watch?v=WouoSftCIz8

Written to 'Heartlines' by Florence and the Machine.

Hetalia (c) to Hidekaz Himaruya


Images flashed around the corner of his vision like fragments of a 3D screen; reds and blues overlapping, blurring together and making the world a very confusing place. He could feel a multitude of emotions pushing and pulling his mood, like waves drawn to the moon's magnitude, also overlapping and very confusing. He could tell he was being hunted; a feeling he hadn't felt in a very, very long time seeing as he was usually the one doing the chasing, but the feeling was there nevertheless. He could feel himself tiring, lungs pushed to their limit and blood singing through his veins as he continued into the darkness, unsure of what was real and what was a lie. Scrambling to a sudden halt, he found himself trapped and whipped around, ready to fight back.

And then he woke up.

Blinking blurry eyes, he propped himself up on his elbows, surveying the room from his spot on the floor. His racing heartbeat slowed as he realized he was not being chased, but instead had been sleeping and thus was now tangled in the blankets he had dragged with him while dreaming. The cold air nipped at his exposed ankles and he quickly retracted them back into the warmth of blanket, just to realize that the material was quite thin. For a summer night, the weather sure seemed to be related to autumn.

Frustrated, Gilbert pushed off the blanket and sat up in full. The moon was still out, but tinges of pink and orange and the loss of many stars hinted at dawn. The draft from the window curled around his fingers, automatically raising goose bumps and making the Prussian shift his position, curling into a ball and then stretching to get rid of the kink in his back.

The large window in the bedroom cast the morning glow in patches onto the white carpet, outlining Gilbert as he sat and gazed out the window. As the former nation of Prussia, he was accustomed to waking up at dawn and watching the sun trail its fingers along the morning sky. The peace that came with these early hours was unmatched, and something he greatly enjoyed. Nothing (well, with the exception of a few special things) was better than watching daybreak.

Unless you had spent half the night dreaming of being hunted in some Gott forsaken land.

On the floor.

Which he didn't remember falling asleep on.

Huffing, he let his eyes travel around the room until they came to a stop on a sleeping form, wrapped in much warmer blankets than the one he currently possessed. He drank in the sight of his Matthew, lovely and warm and gorgeous in the thin light. He was beautiful, he mused silently, and Gilbert felt more than lucky to have him. For someone as pure and perfect to love him, he didn't know why, and couldn't fathom why Canada was attracted to one such as himself. Ah well, love is blind, isn't that what they say?

But back to the matter at hand.

It was cold.

The bed was not.

Simple answer.

He lurched to his feet, half asleep as he more or less stumbled over to said bed, crawling over until his head rested on Canada's shoulder and tried to claim the blankets as his.

No such luck.

Muttering a quiet curse under his breath, he nudged the fabric-enclosed figure until a sleepy groan was heard.

"Matt. Matthew. It's cold and it's dark and I'm half asleep, so please, please just give me some blankets."

"Mmmmmmmm."

"That doesn't help anything!"

"Mmmmhmmmm."

He sat back and studied his boyfriend. Why did this have to happen to him at such an hour!

"Matt. Please!" Taking on a begging tone, he was rewarded with a turn of the head and sleepy blue eyes which gazed at him in consideration.

"You need what now?"

"Blankets. And some bed space."

"Mmmmmmm."

"Matt!"

"Fine, whatever."

"Idiot." Upon receiving said things, he immediately buried himself in a mountain of warmth and comfort, sinking into the mattress and sliding his eyes shut to hopefully fall back into a more peaceful slumber.

That is, until he felt a pair of arms securely tug him into a snuggly hug.

He considered the shape of words on his mouth, but rationalized that the moment was too awesome to ruin with vocal cords. Besides, Canada was warm and Prussia was still chilled.

Sighing, he snuggled up against Matthew, receiving a kiss on the top of his head and a hand claiming his own. Fingers delicately traced his heart lines on his palm, following the creases and mapping the curve of his wrist. Humming appreciatively at the comfort, Gilbert relaxed into their embrace, begging to nod off in the dim lighting.

"Hey, Gil…" it was barley a sound, but the Prussian's ears caught the statement.

"…yeah?"

"Love you."

Turning to face him, Prussia buried his head in Canada's chest, listening to the quiet thump, thump, thump of his heartbeat.

"Love you too, Matt."


This kinda not really happened to me. Keywords : kinda not really.

I can imagine Prussia being all cuddly and crap when half asleep, while Canada would be slightly unhelpful and not really care about what ever Prussia needs (unless he's sick or something).

R&R, please. Thankies~

xx Ink