Oh yes, this was living the good life. Stretched out (or rather sprawled out) on the living room sofa, the albino took another massive bite of pasta, savoring the unique flavors only Feli seemed to be able to put into it. Giving a content sound, the albino's expression flickered up into a smirk, his red eyes gleaming with obvious amusement. West had been too busy to entertain him, something that Gilbert found perfectly acceptable. When West was busy, it meant Feli was free. And when Feli was free, Gilbert found he could get the other man to do whatever he wanted him to do. It was perfect.
"Hm, this isn't bad," He told the bouncing red head beside him, "It could really use a beer though." A mock serious expression replaced the smirk Gilbert had been wearing moments ago, and he stared mournfully at the fridge, before looking back to Feli, and then back at his food.
"Of course, I'll go get one for you! I'm sorry! I should have thought about that earlier! Don't get up, just sit here and relax! I messed up; I'm sorry, please let me keep cooking for you!" Feli exclaimed, speaking too fast for Gilbert to completely follow what he was saying. That was one of the things he really didn't care about when it came to the Italian, he thought with a huff, though as he watched the flustered man race back into the kitchen, he supposed he could see why West liked him.
Liking someone was so not awesome though. Making you vulnerable to someone in that manner, that was hardly a sign of strength! Scoffing to himself, Gilbert rolled his brilliant eyes, brushing his silky white hair from his eyes. Loving someone was such a weak thing, and he had never understood it: some part of him guessed he never would. Not that it mattered, no, he was awesome enough on his own, and he wasn't going to share it with anyone! He didn't need to! What was he doing thinking these stupid thoughts? He had had the Italian waiting on him all day, today should have been an excellent day! Not everyone could say they had someone who was happy to serve you in any manner possible! Even West didn't understand what he had here!
Giving a slight chuckle, Gilbert shook his head as he thought about poor West. His younger brother was so hopeless sometimes; he never took advantage of what the Italian would do. All West ever did was paperwork, and that wasn't going to bring him much pleasure. Well, if he was in to that sort of thing…kinky.
"Bruder, das ist genug!" West suddenly snapped—speak of the (kinky) devil! Lazily cracking his eyes open, Gilbert flashed him an innocent smile, taking the last bite of his pasta. Damn, where was Feli with that beer? It shouldn't be taking this long! West looked pretty pissed about something, Gilbert thought with a sigh. He might have to have Feli go back and get another beer. Oh, he hated sharing.
"Aw, don't look so angry West!" Gilbert taunted, winking at the younger sibling. "I'll be a good person, since I'm just that awesome, and I'll share him with you!" Smirking widely now, Gilbert pushed himself up so he was actually sitting on the couch, instead of sprawling out on it. Leaning forward, elbows resting on his knees, he gave a low chuckle. "After all West, you seem pretty uptight. I think we both know who really needs the good sex," winking again, he looked to the kitchen while West blushed furiously. "Feli! I'm getting parched over here," he yelled, making a disgruntled expression.
"N-nein Bruder. Get up off your lazy ass and go get it yourself," Ludwig growled after being able to get the power of speech back. His blue eyes were cold, not even the faintest spark of amusement could be seen in their depths. "I'm not going to let you take advantage of his good will. You have two legs, they aren't broken. Neither are your arms. Believe it or not, you can get something for yourself for once."
Head whipping back to face West, Gilbert stared at his brother for a moment, before his expression tightened in visible anger, rage sparking in his eyes. In one swift moment, he was on his feet, jabbing a single finger into West's chest. Despite the fact there was no force to the movement, the larger man still took a step back, surprise breaking through the previously cold nothing that had been in his blue eyes. "Cool the fuck off," Gilbert snarled as he backed West to the wall, "before you say something you'll regret. I'm starting to think I need to teach you where you belong."
West, to his credit, didn't flinch at the harsh tone. For a moment, panic flickered in Gilbert's mind: was he losing his touch to scare people? Abruptly he shook the notion away; he had simply known West for too long to scare him that easily. In fact, the show of temper seemed to only further piss off Ludwig: anger now danced in the cool depths of his eyes, as well as the Prussian's.
A few heartbeats passed of complete silence, before Ludwig spoke, grinding out each word. "I think you need to remember where you belong," the words were incredibly cruel to the albino, who had been dissolved many years prior, but he wasn't done yet. "This is my house, it belongs to me. You are my guest, and right now I'm getting tired of your behavior. Maybe it's time for you to go home."
Staring at the blonde, for a few moments, Gilbert couldn't find words. What had been said to him was like a blade right through his heart. Not that he was attached to West or living here or anything like that! No, that wasn't what bothered him so much! Eyes narrowing, Gilbert glared at West for a few moments before he spoke, each word very clear, precise.
"Fuck you." The words were a growl, but as the albino looked away, he wasn't able to hide the flash of pain in his eyes. Hands clenching into fists, he swiftly turned on his heel, turning his back to West, turning his back on this house. "I didn't even like staying here anyway! You're nothing like you used to be, you've grown weak. Pathetic, hell, soon you'll be as weak as America." Reaching the door, Gilbert reached out, grasping the handle. He had been so stupid, letting himself get this vulnerable around someone. Hadn't he already learned that he couldn't trust anyone?
"Happy New Fucking Years, West," Gilbert growled, twisting the door handle around.
"Gilbert~! I…" Feli chose that moment to enter the room, a cold beer in one of his hands, some sort of festive sweets in the other. He was beaming, as usual, Gilbert could tell from the corner of his eyes, but as the sensitive Italian picked up in the tension in the room, that smile became a worried frown as he looked from Ludwig to Gilbert. Well, now he felt even better about himself; he'd managed to upset Feli! He'd just blame West for everything, if he hadn't come to say some stupid thing none of this would have happened!
"Are you going somewhere? Did I take too long? I'm sorry! Please don't go anywhere, we need to spend New Year's together and it is really cold outside and you could get lost and we would never be able to find you because you would blend in with the snow and you still need to drink your beer and I have sweets for you and I would miss you and it wouldn't be a very happy New Year's!" Wailing now, tears springing up into his eyes, Feli launched himself at Gilbert, clinging to his arm, looking up at Gilbert with pleading, tear filled eyes.
Despair plunged through Gilbert when he saw those pleading eyes, though the only change in his expression was the tightening of his frown, turning it into a scowl. "The awesome me has other plans. Besides, spending New Year's here? It couldn't get any lamer than that! You have nothing going on here!" Rolling his eyes, Gilbert forced a chuckle, and patted the top of Feli's head. "However, I will wish you a Happy New Year's," giving him a slightly distant smile, Gilbert freed himself from the clinging Italian, setting him down on the couch.
Reaching for the door, he heard a heavy sigh.
"Bruder, wait…" West said, speaking over Feli's whimpering. "Es tut mir lied. Stay here, bitte. It's cold out, and you aren't even wearing a jacket…" He took a hesitant step forward, toward Gilbert.
A sarcastic smirk flashed across Gilbert's face now, and he slowly turned back to face West, crossing his arms. He hadn't wanted to get back into this with the gentle Feli around, but hey, he wasn't going to complain if West wanted to play this game. "You seem so concerned," He sneered, though he didn't take a step toward the blonde. "The inside of this house is colder than the outside is, so why don't we just cut the half-assed apologies? Trying to cover up the truth, how pathetic of you! Turning more and more into America it seems."
"Bruder! Listen to me," West started, panic coloring his usually certain voice. His blue eyes were wide, but at this point, Gilbert couldn't care less.
"I said to stuff it!" Gilbert snarled, turning his back to West for the last time, and wrenching open the door. The weather had only deteriorated outside, the wind blowing thick snow and ice pellets across the land, while the ground was slick with snow that had melted earlier in the day and refroze when the temperature got below freezing. His common sense was telling him to bundle up, but Gilbert ignored it.
Without looking back, Gilbert stepped outside, letting the wind slam the door shut. For a moment, he listened to the satisfying ring, but the sudden biting cold didn't give him much time to gloat. Holy fuck, it was cold! Shivering to himself, Gilbert looked up into the sky and glared, blaming Rome for this weather. The stupid man always loved messing with him; well, he assumed it was Rome and not Germania. Germania didn't have this sense of humor…or any, really. West was just like him.
West was just like Germania, he was nothing like the ancient warrior. Did he belong anywhere? He had no true family; he wasn't even a country anymore. Glancing over his shoulder at the house he had just left, Gilbert shook his head. Francis and Antonio had dates tonight. He was the only one who was alone really…
All of a sudden, he knew where he was going to go. He would take West's advice: he was going to go where he belonged. A bitter smirk flashed across his face now (the cold had made him feel somewhat numb inside and out it seemed), and without a second thought, Gilbert set off toward where he supposedly belonged.
With the fierce wind and freshly falling snow, any prints he had made were quickly swept away. It was as if he had never existed: finding him would be impossible. And in this weather, even nations could fall victim to the cold.
He supposed that was doubly true for ex-nations.