A/N Hello there, dear reader. This is Gylfie here, and I've finally finished editing the first installment of the story I wrote for last year's NaNoWriMo. I'll leave you to read now, bye...
Matthew wouldn't know how much the deal he had just made would effect his whole life until later, much later. The effect that one Gilbert Beilschmidt had on peoples' lives was not insignificant, not in the least bit. Gilbert was not one that was easily forgotten, and the mark he made on their world tended to stay for a while if not forever.
At times Gilbert could be a bit over bearing but it wasn't that he was trying to be. He was just being himself, and being able to stand being in the same room as Gilbert for more than a few minutes was an acquired talent.
None of Matthew's family could ever hope to understand how their petit Matthieu (if you use Francis' words) had ever become such good friends with the loud albino. It just didn't seem to make sense, did it? The ever loud, egotistical, hyperactive Gilbert, and the shy, soft spoken, self conscious Matthew. But that was the way of life. And somehow, somehow mysteriously it just worked.
Ugh, Matthew's life was so repetitive, the same boring schedule day in and day out: go to school avoiding Francis, Gilbert, and Antonio as much as possible, and then take advantage of the wonders that were the internet.
He was in geometry right now and it was just so... so... boring, he supposed.
He began to zone out as the teacher, Ms. Wang, rattled of the names for the pairs that would be working together on their final project. Most likely Ms. Wang would forget to pair up Matthew and he would end up working alone. Again!
"And last but not least," Ms. Wang said in that annoyingly chipper voice that no teenager could stand to hear, especially at eight o'clock in the morning. "Matthew Williams and Gilbert Beilschmidt.
If Matthew had been any thing like his brother, anything at all, he would have jumped up and started screaming and/or ranting about why he shouldn't be paired with the self proclaimed Prussian, but this was Matthew not Alfred.
"Sup shortie?" and here enters Matthew's number one torturer, Gilbert Beilschmidt.
Gilbert was a member of the, probably aptly named knowing Francis, Bad Touch Trio. The BTT as they were commonly referred to in the school were comprised of Francis Bonnefoy, Matthew's cousin, Gilbert Beilschmidt, the older brother to Matthew's friend Ludwig, and Antonio Fernández Carriedo, who bore no relation to Matthew what so ever other than being Francis' friend. They as in Francis and Gilbert, Antonio was just all around nice, liked to tease Matthew. With Francis it was just cousinly rivalry. Matthew and Francis actually got along quite well, it helped that Matthew was the only one on his side of the family that actually knew french. Matthew's Mother and her sister, Francis' mother, were french Canadian, so Matthew had learned from his mother. However Francis' father was french so were Francis spoke "Français" Matthew spoke the "Quebécois" equivalent, which Francis claimed was a mutinous abomination of "le langage de l'amour."
A hand was being waved in front of Matthew's face and he snapped back to reality. "You never answered me, so I'll ask again. Sup shortie?" And once again Matthew remembered why he disliked the albino so much.
"I thought I asked you not to call me that? Besides I am taller than you anyway." Matthew's exasperation, clearly evident in his voice.
"What was that I couldn't hear you kurzen?"
If their was one thing about Gilbert that Matthew had to chose that bugged him the most is was Gilbert's inability to forget things. Gilbert's un-forgetfulness tended to give him a lot of things to tease Matthew about. It wasn't exactly Matthew's fault he had been rather quiet in his earlier years. And yes it definitely would have helped if people other that Gilbert had noticed him.
"I said that I asked you not to call me short in English, German, or any other language you happen to know off hand. I also mentioned that I'm just as tall as you are."
"Okay I can do that. Mon petit partenaire. Now can you help me with this unawesome proof?" Matthew just leaned back in his chair and sighed.
Gilbert would always be Gilbert.
Brrinnng Brrinnng, ah the sound of the bell. Matthew practically leaped out of his seat and ran out the door, swinging his red backpack over one shoulder on the way out. He had lunch block next and despite the horrendous level of noise that always occupied the cafeteria, Matthew was so glad to be free of geometry and the nuisance that was one Gilbert Beilschmidt that he just didn't care.
"Hey Matthew like totally come over here!" and that would be Feliks Łukasiewicz, one of Matthew's friends from hockey. Next to Feliks was Toris Laurinaitis who also played for the hockey team. Speculation had it that Toris and Feliks were dating but honestly Matthew could never tell, and frankly he just didn't care. At least as long as I didn't effect the hockey playing skill. He decided on the spot that sitting with Feliks, even with his strange way of talking, was way better than being anywhere near Alfred. And thus took the seat across from Toris. "So, like how was geometry? Me and Toris just came from health and it was like so funny."
It took Matthew a little while to decipher what Feliks had just said. "Math was... math like, Feliks. What was so funny in health?" and alas comes Matthew's great attempt at starting conversation.
Toris, taking this as his chance to avoid another long winded rant of Feliks', replied. "We were discussing stereotypes, and Feliks thought all of the Polish ones were hilarious." Matthew nodded to himself, indeed Feliks would be the type of person to think that stereotypes regarding his nationality were funny. In fact he was probably one of the only people he knew that thought they were funny.
"Were there any Canadian ones?" He was just curious nothing else. What is this nonsense you speak of?
"Well I think like Alfred mentioned something about how the Canadia people totally ate maple syrup on everything and were like obsessed with moose, polar bears and hockey. He also like totally mentioned living in igloos." Matthew bust out laughing, it was something about the way Feliks saying it combined with his brother's wording, or maybe Matthew was one of those people who laughed at there own stereotypes. Though he would deny that if you ever asked him.
"I can vouch for the hockey obsession." Matthew couldn't tell if Toris was joking or not, though there was probably an element of both. "Any way I'm not sure Alfred quite knows what the word stereotype means, because he seemed to think all of the examples were really true. Especially the one about Canadia." This time Toris and Feliks laughed with Matthew.
"That's Alfred for you."
"I know right. He's like so totally gullible. When I told him the word gullible wasn't in the dictionary he like totally believed me."
Alfred gullibleness served not only to amuse them, but also to remind Matthew of something else. Arthur wanted him home tonight for dinner tonight at seven, with hockey practice ending at six-fifteen there would be no time to walk. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his bright red phone. It may be slightly old but he loved it anyway, besides two years really wasn't that old.
To: Arthur Kirkland
Hey Arthur I just remembered hokey practice ends a six-fifteen and you wanted me home at seven. So can you pick me up at the school at around six-thirty? S'il vous plaît.
P.S. I'm not texting in class. Don't worry, it is lunch break right now and it will be for another fifteen minutes.
-Mattie
It was only a short while before Matthew felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
To: My 'Canadian' Brother
Hi Matthew, yes I can drive you home after hockey practice. Thank you for asking first.
For the queens sake please don't use those strange phrases that I can't understand. You speak English use it.
Cheerio,
-Arthur
Matthews fingers expertly whizzed across the tiny keyboard, correcting his brother on his refusal to even admit to knowing even the tinniest bit of french.
To: Arthur Kirkland
Salut, ce n'était rien. Arthur don't be ridiculous we all know you can at least recognize the word please in french, I mean you grew up with mom. Everyone knows you can say phrases in Français so stop denying it. Nous savons tous les deux que c'est des conneries.
Au revoir
-Mattie
To: My Canadian Brother
I refuse to dignify you with a response.
P.S. Don't swear.
-Arthur
To: Arthur
Gotcha! :) :D XD
-Mattie
The flood of light spilling from the car was the first thing that Matthew could make out. The second was the figure, or perhaps the more accurate term would be figures as there were two of them, inside of the vehicle.
Two mops of shaggy blond hair were staring at him with blue and green eyes respectively. After the car slowed to a stop in front of him Matthew popped the trunk, and dumped in his gear and bag. Sliding into the back door his brother's annoyingly loud voice greeted him. "Hey Mattie! How was your day?" His brother just never ran out of energy, did he? After a mumbled fine Matthew slumped down against the seat of the car and let Arthur listen to Alfred complain about how he couldn't take US History this year, and how unfair it was that not all four years of history were US History. Honestly Matthew could care less it was history, they learn about the past, who cares what country it was from? It's not like they ever gave Canada any credit for half the stuff it did, in the text books they had in school. And he would much rather learn about the world as a whole and not just one obese country with a hero complex. Though he would never say that to Alfred's face.
All throughout dinner it was all Matthew could not to race upstairs to his room. Being sociable with Alfred and Arthur was so hard given the fact that they ignored him half the time to bicker among themselves.
Okay so maybe an explanation of Matthew's family would be in order. Al, or Alfred Jones if you wanted to be formal, was Matthew's younger twin brother. Despite what everyone says about twins sharing some sort of special bond and being really similar, they were about as different as you can get. They were both blond, wore glasses, and were athletic, but that's about were the similarities ended. Matthew was the quite academic and nerdy type. Where as Alfred was the loud-mouthed obnoxious jock, who couldn't get his grades up. It was strange as Alfred wasn't stupid, not at all, but he just was dedicated enough to actually do the work. He actually excelled in math and science acing all his test. And he was good in Spanish but his performance in that class was inconsistent. On his report card his teacher had written that you could tell whether or not he was going to perform well in class that day. It was as if one day he would be completely out of it, and the next he would miraculously understand everything.
Arthur, on the other hand, was Alfred and Matthew's older brother. Okay well technically he was their half-brother on their mother's side. Long story short; two years ago, when their mother and father had died, he had gained custody of them, while he was still attending the local university.
While this was great and all, it only took the twins one afternoon to find out what a horrendous cook Arthur was. Everything he made was either burnt or accidentally food poisoned. It was fair to say however that Alfred and Matthew learned rather quickly to buy, or cook their food themselves.
One of the strangest things about their family was that they all had different last names. Matthew had their mother's last name, where as Alfred had their father's last name, Jones, and Arthur had his father's last name, Kirkland.
He would be the first to admit that his family was strange, but he loved it that way. It wouldn't be the same without that infused oddity. Arthur and Alfred would constantly bicker, however you could never really tell what Alfred would go on about each day. One day it was "the amazingness that was hamburgers and McDonald's" the next it was complaining about not being able to take U.S. History, which was Alfred's best and favorite subject, all four years of high school.
After their family dinner, which was something Arthur insisted on once a week to try to give them some semblance of normality (or at least he seemed to think normal families ate together), Matthew raced up the flight of stairs that lead to his and Alfred's respective rooms. Matthew loved his room, it was one of the only places where he could be himself and nobody would care. His bag was slumped unceremoniously against the wall and he climbed onto his bed, leaned back against the headboard, and rest his laptop on his knees.
Matthew wasn't the type of person to hold many objects dear to him, but the objects that he did value were held very close to his heart. Among these were his computer and his guitar. He had taken up the guitar years ago when his dad had insisted that him and his brother had to at least try to learn an instrument. Alfred had attempted to learn the drums or something, and Matthew had chosen the guitar. It had seemed to be calling to him, drawing his attention away from all of the other instrument he could have chosen.
This was when they were nine, Alfred had quit about six months into it as he just didn't have the attention span to learn an instrument seriously, but Matthew had continued playing. Two years later his dad had gone out with him and helped him pick out a good quality guitar, and Matthew had loved it dearly ever since.
His laptop had been given to him by his mom on his last birthday before she had died. He had always been a bit of a momma's boy, from learning French with her and helping her cook in the kitchen to keeping her last name and Canadian heritage. To Matthew his laptop was a last link to his dead mother, and he thought of it almost as if she had given him a message from the beyond.
Okay so maybe this could be explained better. Two years ago, after his parents' death, his computer had been his life line, the only thing that had given him hope. He knew it sounded stupid that it was his computer that had given him the will to live on. But it wasn't, not really.
His computer had given him the chance to met him, his savior, his angle. Although Matthew would never tell him this, meeting him had given him hope, given him someone to talk to, given him someone who cared.
Matthew remembered that part of his past well, he remembered how lost he had felt, how helpless. Having a friend to hold on to, a friend that could help him get through that was all that he had needed.
Just one friend, and he had been the one to do that.
The one to listen when Matthew need someone to tell things.
The one to give him advise and enjoy his time with.
Two years ago if you had asked Matthew who he was he would have said "I'm Matthew. Just Matthew." If you asked him that same question now and he answered honestly he would say that he felt like he was three different people at once. At school he was that quiet kid who sat in to corner and got good grades. With his family he was the overlooked one, the one who was probably the most important in keeping them together, but never given any credit for it. At hockey practice and when he was on his own was when he felt he was truly himself, the person who at times his other selves wished they could be, but couldn't because they weren't really Matthew. They were a kind of mask that he had meticulously created and hid behind.
Oddly enough the person who had brought all of these parts of Matthew to light, was the person who would bring them together again.
A short beep from his computer signified the event that Matthew had been waiting for. A message had appeared in his in-box, a message from him.
From: awesomeducky101
Hallo Birdie! What's up? I'm bored so you're awesomeness should entertain me.
From: cactiihuggerWTF?
Hi Gil! :) If you wanted to know what's up I can tell you. The great big blue sky is up. I'm not doing much just thinking and scribbling on my worksheet were I am really supposed to be conjugating verbs. German is such a confusing language.
Will helping me conjugate words count as entertainment? The sooner I get it done the more freely I can talk to you.
From: awesomeducky101
I suppose I can help my dear vögelchen. Ich habe nichts Besseres zu tun. Meh... But you have to help me with the weird math stuff.
What is this nonsense German is an Awesome language. In fact it is the Awesomest language to ever grace this world.
From: cactiihuggerWTF?
Danke :) The only reason I am taking this language instead of Mon chéri Français is because of you,.. and to limit my unseemly abuse of online translating sites.
What are you talking about math is easy?
From: awesomeducky101
Oh be quiet. Deutsch is awesome, unlike your "not so awesome" French.
awesomeducky101 was Matthew's best friend. It didn't matter that he had never actually met him or that he was just another person online, he had been there in Matthew's time in need and Matthew trusted him.
Now don't go thinking Matthews an idiot. He had never told awesomeducky101 his full name or the names of people he knew. He had told him that he lived in a town that was about an hour's drive north of where he really lived and had never given him an address. The only thing personal Matthew had ever given him besides his life's story was his phone number so that they could text. It's not like any random person can track you down by your cell phone number he had reasoned.
Gilbert was not having such a great day, school was boring as always, Francis was of getting ready for some family dinner thing that he had, and Antonio was running after (well not literally, actually who knew. With Antonio anything was possible) Romano Vargas. From what he knew Romano was that kid in his art class with anger management issues, and swore all the time. He supposed he could bother his brother. That was always entertaining plus it took almost no effort on his part.
It was only after walking all the way over the house and repetitively calling out Ludwig's name that he remembered his brother had hockey practice today. One more thing he couldn't do. Laying down on the couch in the living room he plugged his ipod into the speakers and pressed shuffle. That was the best setting, unless you were looking for a specific song, because never could tell what song was coming next. And with his music where none of it seemed to go together, the order was always amusing. When Alestroms's "Heavy Metal Pirates" started pounding out of the speakers Gilbert couldn't help but to sing along.
It was all great fun until Kumajirou, the one man band his friend created, came on and his ipod started playing one of their first songs. Gilbert couldn't recall the name of the song at the moment but he can remember this song's lyrics well, as he helped with writing the German part of the words to it. He can't stop the tear that falls from his eye as the melancholy French and angry German lyrics wash over him. Despite not being able to understand half of what is said. He knows well what the song is about guilt, sorrow, and the pain of loss. This was from when he had first met Birdie, his brilliant advice had been to sing about it, and Birdie had. It was funny, the name had come before the music, yet his friend truly did sing like a bird. Crystal clear and full of emotion.
The creaking of the front door opening told Gilbert that someone else was home now. He sat up and turned around, only to be greeted by his fatigued brother leaning against the door frame. "Hey! How was practice?" Gilbert greeted him.
"Grueling," came the reply. "Captain Williams is a perfectionist." Where had he heard that name before? It seemed so familiar, like it was on the tip of his tongue.
"Sounds fun." Come on Gil is that the best you can come up with. Ja well maybe it is.
"Nein. But it will have been worth it if we win. Ja?" Ludwig somehow managed to pull off an expression half way between a smirk and a grimace. Gilbert merely rolled his eyes, and something along the lines of "Freshman," was muttered.
"Halt die Klappe!" The albino merely chuckled, why was it so much fun to wind up his brother?
"How's your lover friend, Feliciano or something?" Gilbert shouted after his brother, as Ludwig made his way over to his totally unawesome room.
"I'll repeat it again were just friends you dummkopf. How would you like if I asked you what was between Francis, Antonio, and you?"
"Well I wouldn't deny anything everybody knows is true."
"Halt die Klappe!" Ludwig yelled from his room. Gilbert simply cackled. There was just no denying the sexual tension between his brother and that Italian kid. Come to think of it wasn't he the younger brother of Romano..?
~Brits have got the monarchy. The US has the money. But I know that you wanna be Canadian. The French have got the wine and cheese. Koalas chill with the Aussies. But I know that you wanna be Canadian.~
Birdie loved that song. Gilbert found it funny yes, but the only reason it was absolutely hilarious was the context in which he had been told about it. He had been debating, not arguing, with Birdie over whether Prussia or Canada was awesomer, and after a little while Birdie had just typed up all of the lyrics to Canadian Please and the words "take that". Gilbert had to concede that he had lost that debate. If he was honest with himself he would have to admit that Birdie had won almost every debate he had had with Gilbert.
Birdie to him was his best friend. Yes he had Francis and Antonio but they had grown apart over the years, and they just weren't, well they just weren't Birdie. That wasn't to say that they were not still good friends, they were. It was just that they weren't the people that Gilbert found himself spending all his free time with anymore. He spent time with Birdie via texting and IMing him.
Gilbert liked to pretend that he was awesome. He liked to pretend that he was confident and sure of himself. He had never been one to show his insecurities to the world, but somehow Birdie had brought them out.
Attempting to focus back on the work he was supposed to get done, he stared blankly down at his unawesome math homework. Proofs, proofs, and more proofs. It was like Ms. Wang had an unlimited supply of them. They weren't even particularly difficult per say, it was more of the fact that they took effort do complete. And Gilbert just didn't want to spend effort on math on the moment. "da da da da," his desktop sang out as the home page loaded, and Gilbert did what had automatically become habit, checking the pop-up on the upper left hand corner of the screen. There it was, the little green pixelated dot that made him jump with joy. The one that was right next to the name cactiihuggerWTF?.
Alright so tonight had kind of productive night for Gilbert. Though that probably depends on you definition of productive, but considering that this was Gilbert it had been. He had managed, well hopefully he had, to explain conjugation of German verbs to Birdie. Birdie in return had helped explain to him all of the different theorems and things, and where and when they were to be used. Birdie had been talking about this new idea he had for a song but apparently he had been running into writers' block, the horror.
Gilbert had been thinking about asking him something but the decided it wasn't worth it.
It wasn't worth the risk.
It had been kind of an unspoken, or in this case typed, agreement between them to stay in the virtual world.
However at times like these Gilbert really needed his vögelchen.
Meh, he would just have to ask him another time.
I feel like, I would like
To be somewhere else doing something that matters
And I'll admit here, while I sit here
My mind wastes away and my doubts start to gather
Whats the purpose? It feels worthless
So unwanted like I've lost all my value
I can't find it, not in the least bit
and I'm just scared, so scared that I'll fail you
And sometimes I think that I'm not any good at all
And sometimes I wonder why, why I'm even here at all
But then you assure me
I'm a little more than useless
And when I think that I can't do this
You promise me that I'll get through this
And do something right
Do something right for once
What was it about that song? That song that plagued him this whole month. It was his fault, his fault mom died. If only he had delayed her by just one minute. Somewhere some part of him knew that there was no way he could have known. There was no way he could have known that, that car would be there at that time. But it didn't matter. What mattered was that just a few minutes, a few minutes and he could have saved them. He could have saved her. That song was right he was useless. He was useless at everything he tried, constantly over shadowed by his brother, and useless when it came to those things that mattered like stopping his mother from death. That song was wrong too though, there was no one to tell him that he wasn't useless. Maybe that was because he truly was useless. Maybe it was because no one noticed him, which would make him useless as well now wouldn't it.
He didn't understand how Alfred could still be so cheerful, so énergétique, so Alfred right now. They died. They were gone and they weren't coming back. Not now, not ever. Why now, why did they have to go now? Why did they have to go when everything was just starting to get better. Just starting to not drive him over the edge. The flood of tears which he had been suppressing came rushing out when he realized that he would really never see her again. It hadn't seem to sink in until now.
He would never get to cook pancakes with her again.
She would never be there to gently stroke his hair when he was sad.
And the worst part was that he would never get to say good bye. He would never get the chance to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he cared.
"Are you alright Birdie?" awesomeducky101 had asked. No. No he wasn't. But could he really just say that to someone he'd never met? Could he really just dump all his problems on them? Yes. Yes he could. He was still at the stage where he didn't really know Gil yet. And if Gil thought that he was just some whiny brat, he would go back to what he had done before. He would be perfectly fine if it didn't work out, and if by chance Gil was actually nice and cared he might even help him get through this. It didn't matter, he wouldn't be honoring him mom's memory if he just wallowed in self pity. He had to take a chance. And take a chance he did.
He'd finally done it. He took Alfred, Arthur, and his therapist's (he didn't need one god damn it) advise. He talked to someone. He'd made a friend.
It wasn't exactly in the fashion they had meant it but oh well, this way worked better for him. Talking to people online was easier for him, first of all if he messed up really bad it wasn't like he was going to run into them again and have them recognize him, and second of all he wasn't invisible as simple text on a screen. Online he was just like everybody else, he was just as noticeable, or under the radar as any random person who might be typing. Plus it had worked. All it had taken was to go on to one of the chat sites that his cousin Francis often frequented, and commenting on things. Awesomeducky101 had responded to him and after a little while of simple conversation they had swapped their IM information.
Gil had pointed out something that he had never thought of. Something so obviously simple, that had been staring him right in the face. "Can you sing?" He could sing, he had been able to sing since he was five. But why did it matter? "Well you play the guitar, so sing. Sing about how you feel, sing for what's bubbling up inside of you. Sing for me Birdie." And sing he did. It helped too. It helped a lot. He sang for his mother. He sang for the future. But most of all he sang because he could, because he could sing about anything.
Music.
When he thought back on that time, he knew it was music that got him through.
Music and Gil.
Without them he would have been lost. Lost in a sea of never ending misery and sorrow. Lost in a dark forest full of guilt and self pity. He was not proud of that part of his life, but he didn't hate himself for it either. His past was part of who he was. It had made him the person he was today. And however dark it was, and however many things he wished he could change about it. He had come to except it for what it was.
The past lives on through the present, and in the future the present becomes the past was what his mother used to tell him. He had never known what that meant but now he thinks that he is beginning to understand it. We remember the past and it shapes our actions and decisions that we make now, and those choices and actions once made can't be changed and will go on the become part of the past. The past was the past it wasn't like he could change it. The best Matthew could do was try and make the future better.
"So you got paired with mon cousin for your math project?" Gilbert wasn't exactly sure why Francis was asking him this it wasn't like he didn't already know.
"Yeah. I guess I did."
"Good for you. Well at least we know for certain that you won't completely fail math this quarter. There is no way Matthieu would get anything less than a B. On a major project no less." Francis was smirking, this was bad diffidently bad. Though he couldn't be sure what was bad yet, that might take a little while to figure out. Francis was planing something, so all Gilbert really needed to coax out of him was who it was about. That was great and all but Gilbert had that sinking feeling that it had something to do with him, and the changes of getting information out of Francis when it was about yourself was zero to nil. He knew from experience.
"So what did you do yesterday? You sound surprisingly happy."
"Talked to Birdie. At least he is deserving of my awesomeness," the words came causally out of Gilbert's mouth.
"This Birdie of yours, who is he and how long have you known him?" Gilbert was confused. He had told Francis about Birdie ages ago, years even. Was Birdie really as forgettable as he was always complain about. Gilbert didn't think so. He had never forgotten Birdie. Ever. At least he didn't think he had.
"I told ages ago. Don't you remember?"
"Non." Francis shook his head.
'Tonio remembers I bet. Do you?" This last comment was directed towards the Spaniard sprawled out on the floor across from Francis.
"Some Americano kid you befriended online. ¿Si?"
"Canadian, but yes. I've known him for two years now how could you have forgotten?"
"So can we meet him? I mean if he's you friend, he's bound to be intéressant." Francis seemed so excited it shook Gilbert to the core. An excited Francis meant that someone was going to get into trouble or scared for life. Gilbert didn't want Francis to met Birdie, not now and probably not ever. Francis should never get to met his precious vögelchen. Okay now he was getting strangely possessive. But how to go about diverting Francis from wanting to met Birdie, well technically he hadn't met Birdie either so...
"Um well... I've never..."
"Ohonhonhonhon. So you've never really met this illusive Birdie either. Have you mon ami?"
"Nein, aber ich weiß..." Gilbert trailed of.
Antonio couldn't contain himself, the look on Gilbert's was simply so desperate and funny. "So you are telling me that *fusososo insert odd chuckle* you've never actually met the kid that you have been obsessively talking about for years?"
"Well... Yes." Gilbert sighed, his friends just didn't understand, he didn't want to screw up, he couldn't screw up. If he did than he would not only lose his best friend but his happiness. It was weird to admit but Birdie made him happy, and he didn't want to lose that. Not now, not ever.
He had been afraid, yes he said it, afraid of scaring Birdie or perhaps learning that Birdie wasn't really who he said he was.
Afraid of finding out that Birdie was not really the quiet, passive aggressive kid he knew so well.
"If he only lives like an hour away from here then why don't you arrange to met him this weekend or something." Gilbert wondered how Antonio even knew where he lived, but then again they were the Bad Touch Trio, so it wasn't really surprising.
"What so you and Francis can stalk me and Birdie. Nein. I don't think so." He would never tell Francis and Antonio this but something in Antonio's question had sparked his interest. Now that he thought about it, he could ask Birdie to met up with him some weekend. If there was one thing Gilbert was not, it was a coward. He might be dumb, he might be obnoxious, and he might be egotistical, but he was no coward. In fact he had done many dares, from climbing onto the roof of the high school and grafitying the parking lot in front of the elementary school building, just to prove that. In was one of the qualities he prided himself for having. He was going to do it. He was going to ask Birdie to met him. He was scared, oh ja was he scared. Of what he didn't know, but he was definitely scared. Whatever, he was going to do this, and he was going to be Awesome.
Matthew didn't know what was going on. He had been texting Gil about who-knows-what and then suddenly out of the blue he had gotten a text from him that said that Gil wanted to meet him in person this weekend, and then had given him directions to the local coffee shop. It wasn't that Matthew didn't want to meet Gil it was just that Matthew hadn't been completely honest with him. When they had first met Gil had mentioned some thing about living in Ann Arbor, the city that Matthew lived in, and Matthew had been so freaked out that he might actually know him that he had looked up a town about 90 kilometers north of here and told Gil he lived there.
But that was the scary thing what if he said yes and it turned out he actually did know Gil? What if it turned he turned out to be like Felik's, or even worst Arthur's, secret identity or something. But he had to take risks didn't he. He had told himself that years ago after he had lost her. Taking a risk was how he had met Gil in the first place. It had worked out then and Matthew could only hope that it would work out this time as well. And hopefully Gil wouldn't take the whole making up a town thing to badly. It wasn't like Matthew was trying to keep it a secret, it just hadn't come up again, and Matthew had never felt the need to bring it up. Oh well the past is the past.
From: cactiihuggerWTF?
I think we should met up too. It will be really cool to finally met you in person I fell like I know you so well already. How about Saturday at ten o'clock am, at the place you suggested. See you there.
From: awesomeducky101
Cool :D Sounds awesome to me. See you there.
Friday! It was Friday, that meant only one more hour of the torture chamber that the rest of the world not attending called a school. All Matthew had left was Geometry, the evilest of subjects, and then he could go home. That meant just one hour of suffering through Ms. Wang's unnaturally cheerful voice and Gilbert's obnoxious rants, until he could leave. Leave and count the hours until he would finally meet awesomeducky101.
"Hey Shortie." Gilbert called to him despite that fact that he was sitting at the desk right next to his. Matthew didn't bother to dignify that with a response.
"Shortie, Mattie, whatever your name is, can I have your number."
Matthew spun around. "W-what?" he managed stuttered out.
"Can I Have Your Number? Ya know like your phone number. You have a cell phone right?"
"What? Of course I do. What do you think I live in an igloo or something? What do need it for anyway."
"Well I just thought that since we have to work on this project together after school anyway, it would be useful if I had your number." Gilbert carefully chose to ignore the first half of Matthew's statement.
"Okay, well I guess you can have it then. I'll write it down on your assignment sheet. That will give you a reason to take it home, as I know for a fact you don't have your phone on you right now."
Matthew wasn't stupid. He had to a least give Gilbert a reason to keep his paper, and referencing the fact that Gilbert had had his phone confiscated at the beginning of class made him strangely happy. This week had gone surprisingly well considering that he was paired up with Gilbert. He supposed he just couldn't wait until he got to met awesomeducky101, he had been his friend for so long now it felt like he had known him forever where as in reality he had never met him.
The morning crawled on after Matthew woke up at seven. Three hours had never seemed so long to him. It wasn't right. it wasn't normal. Time seemed to have slowed when he wanted nothing more than for it to sped up. He stared at the clock as the second hand appeared to drag itself across the circle. God damn it all just be ten o'clock already. So maybe he wasn't patient, not at all, but since when did that matter? He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled his way downstairs to make his traditional Saturday morning breakfast, pancakes and maple syrup, lots of maple syrup. That seemed to do the trick, before he knew it, it was nine thirty and he had to leave the house already. Time really did fly when you were having fun, or at least making pancakes, siriusly it did.
When he stepped out side the weather mocked him. It was not allowed to be sunny and cheerful when his inside were a bubbling sea of confusion. Did he really want to do this? He supposed he could back out now if he wanted. He didn't though. That wasn't him, he was Matthew Williams crazy, insane, hockey player who could ram into anybody he wanted. And he was going to see through this meeting thing through to the end.
As he stepped into the coffee shop he wasn't quite sure what to do. How was he supposed to know which one of these people was awesomeducky101? Looking over towards the register he saw a familiar mop of silver hair. What was he doing here? Gilbert was not the person he really want to be there when he finally met his best friend. As the teenager known as Gilbert Beilschmidt turned around to find a seat Matthew quickly looked away. All intents on not drawing attention to himself. But it seemed he was not quick enough, Gilbert had noticed him alright and he was heading in his direction. Oh god no Matthew prayed. Despite the fact that he happened to be agnostic. "Whatcha doing here Shortie?" Matthew wanted to bang his head against the table and cause Gilbert to spill his coffee all over himself.
"Nothing. I was just waiting for someone. We arranged to meet here." Why was he even telling Gilbert this? Hell if he knew.
"Funny, I was just doing the same thing." Well that was certainly odd. They sat there in an awkward silence for a few minutes, before Gilbert got up to leave. "Well in was nice seeing you here Mattie. I've gotta go now." Gilbert turned away and began walking, while talking to himself. Matthew normally wasn't one to eavesdrop but Gilbert wasn't really quite, ever, and Matthew couldn't help but over hear him. "That's odd I wonder where Birdie is?"
Birdie?
Did Gilbert just say Birdie?
Matthews jaw literally dropped, it was so clear now, so boldly oblivious that Matthew didn't understand how he could have missed it. All the pieces began to fit together in Matthews head. Gilbert, Gil, awesomeducky101, how could he not have guessed that they were the same. Gil was short for Gilbert wasn't it?... and it wasn't short for much else either. The German speaking, the obsession with Prussia and the word awesome.
It was so painfully obvious, so much made sense that Matthew wished didn't. Fate was a cruel bitch. Messing with his life like this. First take away his mother, then give him a friend, then taking away his friend too. Did he deserve this? Really did he? Perhaps a better question would be what was he going to do. Or did Gilbert even realize this?
Actually that was a stupid question of course he didn't know. He was Gilbert the stupid, thick headed, moron. Even as Gil he had been ridiculously slow at getting things. Matthew wasn't sure what to now, and he had no one to ask for help either. Not with his usual confident being the problem in the first place.
Matthew's first response was to high tail it out of there and head home, but after running about five blocks down the street he stopped to catch his breath. Running home wasn't really going to help he realized, at home was Alfred and Arthur were. Neither of them were particularly comforting at the needed to catch his thoughts he needed to go somewhere and just think and going over to crazy Arthur and Alfred land was not going to accomplish that.
That was when Matthew remembered the park, the park he used to frequent with his mother when he was younger. He hadn't been there in two years, it had been too painful, too full of memories. It was so much easier just to forget to ignore, ignore the part of him that wanted to curl up into a little ball and cry. He wanted his mother he wanted his mother back, he wanted her comforting hug and her telling him that everything would be alright. When the tall green trees, that Matthew remembered so well from his childhood, came into view tears were all ready threatening to fall from his eyes.
He ran to the swing, his swing the only one that he had ever wanted to use. It just sat there innocent and lonely, swaying in the slight breeze. Just like him alone and abandoned in this huge world. He sat there, he just sat there, trying to clear his head and absentmindedly kicking at the mulch beneath him feet. awesomeducky101 was Gilbert, Gilbert fucking Beilschmidt. There was so much that that meant, so much that that changed. Matthew couldn't understand how this could be happening again. His whole world was falling to pieces leaving him stranded in nothingness for a second time, last time he had found someone to ground him. This time it was his solution which had caused the problem and Matthew didn't dare try to find another friend to help him. It just wouldn't work and they just wouldn't be Gil. He found himself to be missing Gil despite the fact that he hadn't even said anything yet. In a bout of anger Matthew didn't know he had he hastily pulled out his phone and typed up a message for "hisawesomeness"
To: HisAwesomeness
You're a jerk you know. A right bastard. I never want to talk to you again. And seriously you're really unoriginal, I mean come on all you nicknames end in "ie". Really bitch? I mean couldn't you come up with something even slightly more creative.
From: The Birdster
Matthew watched and the progress bar made its way to the edge of the pixeliazed rectangle signaling that his message had been sent. Shit! He couldn't delete that now could he? Gilbert was going to get that whether or not he wanted him to or not. It wasn't like Gilbert had known he reasoned. In reality he was just as much at fault as Gilbert had been. He just stayed there. For how long, he could not tell. Tears trickling down his face logic and anger raging a battle in head.
Out in the distance a figure walked along the side walk aimlessly without a purpose. His head turned when he heard the sound of crying. Over in the park, curled up on one of the swing sat another figure. A figure he recognized. Waarom was zijn kleine vriend hier? He strode over to him, he wasn't going to leave his Canadian friend just sitting there.
Matthew's long hair clung to his damp face. Oh how he hated it when his hair got in his eyes. Brushing it across his face he noticed a figure with spiky dirty blonde hair pacing towards him. Was that..? Lars? Why was Lars here? They were friends yeah, but that didn't explain why was he here.
"Hey, you okay?"
Matthew looked up, watery eyes full of surprise. Lars was there leaning casually against the post that held the swings up. What was he supposed to say? Ya he was great? He was friends with Lars, but this was just kind of awkward. And he didn't think he could talk without breaking down into tears. He met Lars last year when he had been a freshman. He had would go skating early in the morning before school and the only other person a the rink was Lars. They had started talking and had become friends. It was Lars who had convinced him to join the hockey team, which had been one of the best things in Matthew's life. "Hey," he managed.
"You look upset." Lars seemed rather out of place doing this. His intimidating figure just didn't fit with him trying to comfort Matthew.
"It's complicated," that description of the situation saddened even Matthew, though he wasn't really sure how else to sum up the mess he was in.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I don't know." Matthew didn't really want to talk to anyone at the moment. "What do you do if your best friend turns out to be the person who bullied you your whole life?"
Lars looked at him quizzically. How was he supposed to answer this? It seemed like his friend Matthias had landed himself in one huge mess. "I'm not sure. I suppose I would wait to find out whether the really meant it or not." Lars wasn't really sure if that addressed the situation. But Matthias' eyes had lit up and he had sat up straighter. "Thanks. I've got to go now Lars. See you at the rink Monday." And with that Matthias left. Leaving Lars and the still swinging swing set alone among the grass.
Lars was right Matthew decided, he would wait. He would wait and discover which was the real Gilbert, awesomeducky101 or the one he knew from school. If he remembered correctly Gil had always had self confidence issues, based from the fact that his parents viewed his brother as the perfect son. Would that be Ludwig? Most likely that was were Gilbert's need to tease him came from. That didn't mean it was right as Matthew was no where close to forgiving Gilbert for it, but it did give Matthew a little more insight into the person who was both Gilbert Beilschmidt and awesomeducky101.
Gilbert stared dejectedly at his hands. He had never liked being stood up, and Birdie had never seemed like someone who would do that. But what else do you call telling Gilbert to meet him at ten and then never showing up. He had waited or half an hour, and he figured if Birdie had been running any later than that he would have texted him. Right? What was he going to do now? He had nothing else to do today and it was going to be awkward talking to Birdie later.
A chirp from Gilbert's pocket alerted him that he had received a text. Yes he had set his phone to chirp like Gilbird whenever he got a text. Pressing the home button to turn his phone on he was confused by the first few words and hastily swiped his finger across the screen and tapped out his password so that he could see the entire message.
To: HisAwesomeness
You're a jerk you know. A right bastard. I never want to talk to you again. And seriously you're really unoriginal, I mean come on all you nicknames end in "ie". Really bitch? I mean couldn't you come up with something even slightly more creative.
From: The Birdster
Gilbert was completely and utterly confuzled. Why was Birdie mad at him? It was Birdie who hadn't shown up. What had Gilbert done that made him a jerk? And what was this about nicknames? Where had that come from and since when had he given Birdie two of them. It didn't make sense. Did this have something to do with the reason Birdie hadn't shown up. Did that have something to do with why Birdie seemed mad?
Birdie... Birdie... Birdie was... Well Gilbert didn't know exactly what or who Birdie was. But Birdie had been able help Gilbert where others had not. He had been able to get Gilbert to admit to Birdie and more importantly to himself the things he didn't like about himself. Gilbert liked everyone to think that he was cool, to think he was some kind of awesome bad ass. In reality though Gilbert wasn't as clear cut as he like to let on. He played flute in the band for Gott's sake. That was fun though and Gilbert didn't care what people thought, well he did that much was clear, but their were some lines that had to be drawn there, and Gilbert thought the flute was awesome.
Those had been the good old days, when life had just been about upstaging Roddy and Ludwig. Even at the age of ten his cousin had been musical genius, pianist extraordinaire. If anything Roderich had problems expressing emotion, seriously who expresses anger through playing Chopin on the piano. So when Roderich had told Gilbert that he would never amount to anything and that he would never posses the necessary skills to play an instrument, even one as simple as the drums Gilbert had been determined to prove him wrong. He had talked his Opa Fritz until giving him his old flute and teaching him to play it. Back then he had spent hours every day practicing. It had taken him years to come to a point where he was even slightly close to Roderich's level, but it had been worth it.
But that was all beside the point. Gilbert wasn't sure what he would do if Birdie didn't want to be friends with him anymore. It wasn't that his whole life revolved around Birdie, but more that the things that Birdie had helped him with were things Gilbert couldn't deal with himself and they were things he didn't, and couldn't share with other people. He supposed he aught to go home and work on his homework, it wasn't like there was anything better to do right now. That's when it hit him, homework he had that project thing with Francis' cousin Matthieu or something. He could call him and they could work on it, and then maybe Gilbert could convince him to hang out or something. All he had to do was find that paper, so he could get that number. Aha there it was, laying inconspicuously on his desk. Eh table with a computer and a bunch of other stuff on it was probably a better description.
To: 226-232-0107
Hey Matthieu. Do ya wanna work on the Math project thingy now?
From: Gilbert
That should be good enough right?
To: HisAwesomeness
I don't want to talk to you right now. LEAVE ME ALONE!
Since the above was already stated why would I want to help you with math?
From: TheBirdster
Why had Birdie responded to his text? Had he accidentally sent it to Birdie instead of Matthieu? Oh well he might as well add Matthieu to his contacts anyway.
What? Why was his phone complaining. "Error. Number already exists would you like to replace the existing contact information?" No he wouldn't, he would like to know how he already had Francis' cousin information information. It didn't make sense. Did he already know Matthieu some other way? Had Matthieu He supposed scrolling through his contacts to find the matching number would have to be the way to go. He needed his curiosity satisfied Gott dammit.
Bingo. There is was. He glanced down towards the middle of the screen when the name was listed. Scheiße . Oh Gott, oh Gott, oh Gott. Shortie, Matthieu, Birdie... What? Had Matthieu given him a random number, that just turned out to be Birdie's? That seemed so unlikely, in all honestly it seemed more likely that Mattie was Birdi... Wait a second. There was no way. Matthieu, Birdie same number was this really happening? Gilbert had to check, he had to and there was only one way to do that... Or should he say one way to conform. Francis.
Ring Ring Francis picked up the phone. Why was Gilbert calling him, last he heard Gilbert had been busy. "Salut, Gilbert. Ça va?"
"What's your cousins number?" Abrupt and straight to the point as always.
"Which one?" What the hell? Since when did Francis have more than one cousin?
"What? The one I have math with."
"Ohonhonhon Mathieu then. Why would you need that mon ami?"
"So I can do math with him."
"Ah Ohonhonhon." Why was Francis acting like he didn't believe him?
"Does he play an instrument?" Come on please say. Actually Gilbert wasn't sure what he wanted Francis to say.
"What a strange question. Are you trying to convince him to join that ridiculous band of yours?"
"No, I was just wondering."
"I believe he plays la guitare, and I suppose I can give you his number..."
Great! Just great. Birdie, who was Matthieu, hated him. And they still had a math project to work on for school together. Wunderbar! His best friend hated him because he didn't know that he was his best friend. You know what that didn't make any sense. It was like when his mind came up with it, it made sense but when he thought it, it didn't make sense. That didn't make sense either did it? You're arguing with you self via thoughts. That doesn't make sense either. You know what just shut brain before you make me go crazy. You already are. Did you know that arguing with yourself is a sign of insanity. Exactly. You're not helping. Oh Gott just shut up! Fine! What was he going to do? He knew he wasn't exactly on the best terms with Matthieu, but still it was Birdie. He supposed he would just have suck it up an apologize. He hoped to Gott Birdie would except it. He wasn't sure what he would do if he didn't, keep trying he guessed. "I've got to apologize."
"What did you just say?" Had he said that out loud? Note to self; don't think about Birdie at the kitchen table. Especially when Ludwig is around. Thank Gott Muti and Vati were at work right now.
"I said I'm just have to apologize to Bir... Matthieu, I mean."
"Matthew? As in Matthew Williams?" How did Ludwig know his name?
"It like turns out Matthieu is Birdie and..." Now he was talking like Feliks Łukasiewicz. No way in hell.
Ludwig snorted in disbelief. "You manged to get Matthew mad at you?"
"Well Birdie is Matthieu." The way Gilbert kept repeating this, it was like he wasn't truly over the shock yet. Which was totally not true.
"Osten you're an idiot. Plus you're saying his name wrong. It's Matthew not Matthieu."
"But Francis..."
"Exactly. Francis is French." Ludwig knew way too much about Gilbert's friends for his own liking. "Let me get this straight you're Birdie happens to also be Matthew Williams, who doesn't like you very much as Gilbert, not that strange screen name you keep." A nod from Gilbert was all the information Westen needed. "Point one: your screwed. Point two: your really screwed."
"Why thanks for your moral support. How do you know him anyway?" Good question Gil. Why won't you just shut up.
"Birdie never told you? Matthew is the captain of the hockey team." Oh. Birdie had told him that last year. He had been awfully proud too. The fuck, the grueling captain Williams, Westen was always complaining about was Birdie. There was no way in hell that, that made sense. Birdie and Matthew made sense, they both had that cute, shy, stuttering thing, but Ludwig's crazy hockey captain? The one that could make Ludwig exhausted, and had an unholy obsession with hockey? Well he was Canadian eh? Oh Gott he did not just say, think, that.
It was a Sunday night. Matthew hated Sunday nights, mostly because it meant he had school the next day, but also he hated this Sunday night in particular because he had math first block tomorrow. And that meant having to talk to Gilbert which he wasn't sure he was ready to do quite yet. Even if he was ready, which he wasn't, it was a morning. Matthew didn't do mornings, not unless he had just spent an hour on the ice, and the stupid skating rink was closed Monday mornings. Très Bien! Magnifique!
The grey building loomed in front of him. Half of him want to turn around and just run, run to anywhere but here. He could spend the day lazing around, avoiding all attention. It wasn't like Ms. Wang would notice him, or the lack of him, enough to mark him absent. Hey, it wasn't like they hadn't called him Mark or Marvin on the loudspeaker before. But he was Matthew the good kid the kid who would never dream of skipping. Maple, he really did do what everyone expected him didn't he. It was time to change that, but not by skipping, he didn't want to get into trouble he just wanted to surprise everyone. To do something that they wouldn't expect, and he had the perfect first guinea pig. Gilbert.
"Hey, wait!"
Matthew stopped in his tracts. He knew that voice, merde, there goes his master plan. Slowly he turned around to face the sound of the voice. A pair of piercing crimson eyes bore into his own violet ones. "Birdie?" Slowly and with much hesitation Matthew nodded. "Vögelchen!" The albino exclaimed and made move to engulf him into a hug. Matthew didn't care how sorry Gilbert was, he wasn't allowed to hug him. So of course the "Prussian" found himself himself having just been slapped by his "Birdie". "What was that for, Birdie?" And Matthew found himself trying to look away from those ruby red orbs full of shock, and probably feigned, hurt.
Matthew rolled his eyes. "What do you think that was for, Gilbert?" The way Matthew said his name swapping the G for a J and dropping the T, combined with the icy glint in his eyes, and cold tone of voice sent shivers down Gilbert's spine. Birdie could be be down right creepy when he wanted to. In Gilbert's mind Birdie was a polar bear and he was the seal trapped under the ice.
"I deserved that, didn't I?"
Matthew simply rolled his eyes, again, at Gilbert's statement. Gilbert wasn't downright mean, he just had never given any thought to consequences. And on some extent Matthew knew that, but that didn't mean he was just going to forgive him just like that. No if Gilbert wanted him to forgive him then he had to actually prove it to him. Like his older brother and cousin Matthew had a mean streak. His just wasn't seen as often, but when it was, oh boy was that person in trouble.
"Oui, tu as."
They had entered into an awkward silence now. One that neither of them was sure how to break without it becoming even more awkward. They stood there for what felt like minutes. Gilbert wasn't sure what was happening, Matthew was glaring at him but it seemed to him as if they were on better terms now then they had been on Saturday.
"Gilberto!"Antonio ran towards Gilbert, throwing him against the wall as he tackled him into a hug. Matthew sighed, there went his plan, again. He was never going to be noticed was he? He turned away from the shocked Gilbert and the scarily happy, and blabbering Antonio, and walked into Ms. Wang's classroom. How could Francis stand his friends they were so very... strange. Anyway if Gilbert wanted to talk to him he was going to have to do it an other time, when Antonio wasn't around.
Mon Dieu this was so uncomfortable, why couldn't the period just end, god dammit. "Look Birdie, I'm sorry."
"I know I heard you the first time, it doesn't need to be repeated 50 times."
Matthew didn't know how long he could stand this. He missed Gil, he missed texting him when he was bored, and Gilbert was showing him just how much he was awesomeducky101. He was doing that stupid stubborn thing where he just wouldn't give up. Matthew didn't want to except that they were one and the same, and Gilbert certainly wasn't helping him keep in his denial.
"But Birdie you don't understand. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I ever done to you. I'm really sorry. I'll do anything, please just listen."
"Anything?" Matthew looked up at Gilbert form his paper, which at the moment happened to be covered in longs strings of x's and y's.
"I'm serious Birdie. I'll do anything, just to have my best friend back." Gilbert considered him his best friend, really? Matthew was surprised, but also oddly touched. Gilbert was pleading now, and Matthew knew for a fact that Gilbert wouldn't just do that for anyone.
"Okay fine." Gilbert was shocked. Was Birdie really just going to except his apology? Just like that? That didn't seem like the Birdie he was used to. Then again he had to keep reminding himself that this was Matthew too, not just Birdie. "But you have to prove to me that you really mean it."
"How do I do that?" Gilbert was almost scared. This was a side of Matthew he had never seen before, A side of him that seemed almost vicious. In the normally quiet shy kid he sat next to, he could now see the shadow of the person his brother knew as his hockey captain. Authoritative, clever, persistent, and intelligent, an unstoppable force, the icy wind that drilled hole into the sides of mountains. So this was who Birdie was as a real person in his entirety.
"Well you can..." The smirk on Matthews face as he told Gilbert what he wanted him to do to prove to him his sorriness was not an expression he was used to see on anyone except himself and Francis. It was to Gilbert an odd expression for Francis' cousin to be wearing. Matthew had always been the victim, and now that the tables were turned Gilbert was going to get exactly what had been coming to him. Whether or not karma existed.
Francis was confused, Gilbert smile resembled his victory smile. But what was there for Gilbert to be victorious about? As far as he knew Gilbert had not done anything very victorious recently. Well as far as he knew Gilbert had never been particularly victorious ever. So this whole thing didn't really make any sense did it.
"So you got him to listen to you?" Ludwig asked Gilbert. Though his voice portrayed his disbelief.
"Ja, but I have to, eh well I have to practice with the hockey team for a month. But that's nothing I'm the awesome Gilbert, and no sport can defeat me." Ludwig just looked at him with pity. "It's just hockey anyway how bad can it be?"
Francis was putting the pieces together in his head. Apology, hockey, someone Gilbert upset? Mon cousin Matthieu? Ah Mattie. "So you upset Matthieu? Oui?"
Gilbert was treading on thin ice here, no pun intended. Despite his teasing Francis was very protective of Mattie, especially after his aunt died. It was only Matthieu and apparently Gilbert that didn't know this. "Ja well, I messed up. I messed up big time." Francis just glared at him. He supposed he could let it slide as Gilbert was trying to apologize. But just this once.
Just this once.
A/N Thanks for reading this :D Just so ya know I used Google Translate for the German and French so don't hate me if they're wrong, and if they are fell free to correct me and I'll change it. And while not require reviews are always appreciated. We all know the blusich button right down (↓) there need a little more love. Also if you have any questions about the story, or other stories, or me (I know you're there creepy stalker) pm me and I'll do my best to answer them. That's it for now.
Best Wishes and DFTBA,
~Gylfie