Roderich Edelstein
Roderich's eyes never broke contact from the keys of his piano when he heard the series of loud crashes that signified Gilbert had arrived. He may have winced slightly as he wondered what the damages to his house were, but he didn't pause.
With a sigh, he figured that all he could do was wait for the albino to storm into his room and make some unreasonable demand that Roderich would refuse to comply with. With Gilbert, that's really all one could do.
Ten minutes passed by. Then twenty. Before the pianist realized, an entire hour had passed, and Gilbert was still nowhere to be seen, or heard. Nervously, he fidgeted with the cuffs of his jacket after he finished playing. It was unlike the other man to be quiet for so long.
He never considered the possibility that it might not be Gilbert who had made such a horrendous amount of noise earlier. It was always Gilbert, no matter how many times he called the police on him for breaking and entering. He always proceeded to show up the next day, usually through the only window Roderich consistently forgot to lock.
"Gilbert, I know you're out there," he called out, just wanting to get it over with, whatever 'it' was.
After a few moments of silence, Roderich heard the heavy footsteps caused by those damned boots Gilbert always wore. He noticed with surprise that they were unusually slow. Gilbert was usually running around like a maniac; not trudging as if he were participating in a funeral.
"Gilbert," he nearly growled. He had no patience for the odd games of the self-declared 'Awesome' Gilbert Beilschmidt today.
After what seemed like another five minutes, Roderich saw the little yellow canary that was the eternal prelude to Gilbert's arrival. If his memory served, Gilbert had practically named the thing after himself.
"Hey Specs," Gilbert greeted before he turned the corner. "Can we talk?"
Roderich's lips set into a harsh line at the nickname. "For the last time, my name is—"
"Not Specs, yeah, I know," Gilbert finished. "Look, can we talk Roderich?" he tried again, using the brunette's proper name for the first time in almost a year. "It's important," he added.
That was never something Roderich wanted to hear. 'Important' could mean anything from 'I'm bored' to 'I sold your house' when it came to this moron.
Roderich readjusted the wire-framed glasses, and nodded curtly. 'He won't leave unless I listen to whatever it is he wants to say,' he thought to himself as he led Gilbert to the music room that was his haven.
Gilbert Beilschmidt looked every inch the arrogant slacker he was at heart. His silvery-white hair was uncombed, and disheveled. Crimson eyes lazily flicked around at random intervals, and even his clothes, though they were of higher quality than one would normally assume, looked as if he had slept in them the night before.
He was a stark contrast to Roderich, who took great pride in looking presentable. His chestnut hair was smooth, and styled carefully, while his plum-toned eyes were masked slightly by wire-rimmed glasses, and he was always dressed as if he were about to dine with the Queen.
"I'm leaving," Gilbert announced as Roderich took a seat on his piano bench.
Roderich stared openly at the albino with wide eyes. "Is that all?" he asked after Gilbert didn't elaborate. "You broke into my house to inform me that you are leaving?"
A crooked grin stretched his slightly chapped lips. "Pretty much," he admitted. "I wanted to say goodbye before they sent me away."
A decent portion of Roderich didn't even care. But, there was enough curiosity in him to prompt him to ask, "Who is sending you away to where?"
His grin faltered. "I'll tell you when I get back," he eventually answered, tugging nervously at the collar of his shirt. His dark, crimson eyes darted around quickly, and Roderich swore he saw what looked like fear in them.
"And when, pray tell, will that be?" As soon as the question left Roderich's mouth, he wanted to take the words back. He didn't care for the German idiot. He didn't care when he left, and didn't care when he came back.
Gilbert sighed, and bowed his head in what could only be described as defeat. "Look..." He paused for a moment as a phone alarm went off. Curling his upper lip contemptuously, he shut off the alarm and shoved himself up. "I'll be back by snowfall, all right? I promise, Roddy." With another flash of that cocky grin, he turned on his heel and walked out the door.
"My name is not Roddy," he insisted. "And I don't care when you get back, just don't come here!"
It didn't take long for the first snow of the winter to fall from the skies. Roderich told himself multiple times he wasn't expecting anything. But still as the sun set on that day, he couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. The white-haired demon named Gilbert didn't show up.
Months dragged on. April rolled around, and there was still no sign of him.
Now, Roderich was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. Gilbert used to show up at his house a couple of times a week; not seeing him for almost six months was causing tendrils of worry to curl through his system.
'Maybe he meant the snowfall of the coming year,' Roderich tried to persuade himself. 'Maybe he'll show up six months from now, when the next snow falls.'
With a sigh, he pressed his forehead against the cool glass of the window. "Why am I even worrying about that idiot?" he asked himself. "He has done nothing but cause me trouble since the moment we met."
Another six months passed. Roderich told himself that he wasn't expecting Gilbert to show up as he watched the snow fall on the ground.
He didn't show up, of course. Another Gilbert-less winter passed Roderich by, and he kept trying to tell himself that he didn't care.
Roderich didn't want to be shocked at the sight that greeted him when he first entered the piano room. Maybe it had been a year and a half since he had last seen Gilbert, but he shouldn't be surprised that he decided to show up out of the blue. If he was honest, Roderich should have expected that from Gilbert.
But, the sight of him, curled up on his side, the Iron Cross he always wore on a chain coiled onto the floor, and the look of utter peace across his face, completely took him by surprise.
His white hair was a little longer than usual, and Roderich thought that his skin had gone a little lighter, even though he had believed that to be impossible before. The stupid yellow chick was nestled in his hair, and appeared to be sleeping.
"And here I was thinking you were never coming back," he muttered to the albino on his floor.
He waited for some kind of witty response from Gilbert.
It didn't come. Somehow, the man had managed to fall asleep on the cold, hardwood floor.
Roderich was unsure of how long he had been in there, or why he had even come back. But, as he dug through the linen closet, he couldn't help but feel a small pang of satisfaction.
He had made good on his promise to return.
Carefully, he laid a blanket across Gilbert's sleeping form. He learned a long time ago that it was a terrible idea to wake Gilbert up, so he decided the next best thing was to try and make him as comfortable as he could.
Roderich watched as Gilbert, still unconscious, curled up underneath the blanket; his hands twisting in the fabric. He noticed a long, but thin, cut across his cheek. It was still relatively fresh, but had stopped bleeding.
It was spring when Gilbert returned. "You're such a liar," he murmured with a smile as he closed the door. When Gilbert woke up, he wouldn't be able to say that to his face. But, it was still nice to be able to say it to him, even if he didn't hear.
Almost twelve hours later, Roderich still hadn't heard anything from the piano room. He just shrugged it off as Gil still being asleep, but still checked on him.
"Hey Specs," he murmured. Gilbert hadn't left the floor; the blanket now draped haphazardly around his shoulders.
"How long have you been awake?" Roderich found himself asking.
He got a shrug in reply. "Time doesn't really mean much. I couldn't tell you." His red eyes flicked up to meet Roderich's. "But, I'm pretty sure it's been at least a couple of hours," he added, seeing the disapproval in Roderich's face.
"Why did you come back?" Roderich finally asked, breaking the silence. "I told you not to come back here."
Gilbert looked up, confusion clear on his face. "I told you I would, didn't I? I'm pretty sure I told you I would come back to you when I could…."
"No, you told me you would come back when the snow falls," he retorted. "Where the hell have you been?"
In the back of his mind, Roderich realized he was contradicting himself. Telling Gilbert he wasn't wanted here in one breath, and demanding an explanation for his absence in the next.
"Around," Gilbert returned. His crimson eyes averted themselves to the edge of the blanket around him. "Nowhere terribly special, I mean," he backtracked.
"If it's nowhere special, then tell me where."
He shook his head slowly, a hand going up to cover his eyes. "It's too early," he said, improvising an excuse. "Maybe if you let me sleep here, I'll tell you."
"Go home!" Roderich snapped.
Normally, that outburst would have earned Roderich a wry chuckle. It surprised him when all that he got from Gilbert was an almost imperceptible wince.
"What home?" Gilbert said to himself as he picked himself off the floor. "All right, Specs. I'll get out of your hair," he continued louder.
"Gil…." Roderich worried his lower lip between his teeth. Something was off with him, Roderich could tell. He wasn't acting nearly as obnoxiously as he used to. Something must have happened while he was away.
As if he could sense the direction of Roderich's thoughts, Gilbert waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever, Specs," he returned with a hollow laugh. "I'm leaving; no need to get your panties in a twist."
Roderich continued to follow closely behind the albino, trying to take back his words.
Gilbert snubbed every single attempt. As he reached the main entrance, Gil finally paused. "You asked me why I came back, right?"
Roderich nodded mutely.
A twisted smile formed on his lips. "I promised I would come back by snowfall. Sure, my timing's a bit off, but I keep my promises. You should know that by now."
Roderich did know that. He had witnessed Gilbert nearly break his back trying to keep multiple promises he had made.
"Your timing was off. That means your promise wasn't kept," Roderich insisted, purely out of habit.
"Would you prefer that I had waited until winter or something?" Gilbert snapped back. "Sorry, Specs, but I thought you would actually, I don't know, miss me or something?"
"Why on earth would I miss you?" As soon as those heated words passed his lips, Roderich realized that was exactly the wrong thing to say.
A devastating mixture of pain, anger, and despair flitted across Gil's face for a split second before he managed to throw on a mask of sneering indifference. "Because I am just that awesome," he answered, his voice strained.
"Gilbert, I didn't mean—"
"Yes you did," Gil interrupted. "You just didn't mean to say it out loud." With barely shaking hands, he reached for the brass doorknob. "But, whatever. It's not like you actually care about anything aside from your stupid piano. Why should I be different?"
Roderich felt the sting behind those words. "What I meant to say was, 'Why not me'?" he retorted softly.
"What are you talking about now?" Gilbert asked with a sigh.
"You nearly killed yourself so you could keep your promise to Francis. You broke three bones so you could make good on your promise with Antonio. Hell, you ended up in the hospital with three dozen cuts and five broken ribs just so you wouldn't let Feliks down, and you don't even like him!"
Gilbert stared at the musician stoically. "I tried," he returned lowly. "You have no idea how hard I tried to get back."
Roderich took a shuddering breath before responding, "But you didn't."
Crimson eyes narrowed at this. "If you're going to be all 'Woe is me', do it when I'm not in the room. I'm sick of listening to you complain about your pathetic little problems."
"You never leave," Roderich returned scathingly. "You're always here, in my house."
"I try to leave, and you stop me. Then you have the nerve to complain that I'm always here? How contradictory can you get, Specs?" By now, Gilbert was outright glaring at the more aristocratic man. "Make up your mind."
"I never tried to stop you," Roderich retorted.
"Then you'll have no problem if I were to walk out that door and never come back," Gilbert concluded. In one easy motion, he had the door unlocked and opened.
Roderich felt his blood run cold. For the last year and a half, he had been wondering where Gilbert was, what he was doing, and when he was coming back. Now, when he was finally here, all he seemed to be doing was pushing Gilbert farther and farther away.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked. "You said it yourself, you have no home anymore."
"But, I'm clearly not wanted here," Gilbert returned with a snarky grin.
Somehow, Roderich managed to get between the albino and the door. "Do you have anywhere else to go?" he asked.
Backing up a bit to put some distance between the two of them, Gilbert shook his head mutely. His clever responses had failed him for the moment.
"Then you are going to stay in this house whether you like it or not," he concluded.
"I don't care if I stay here; you're the one with the problem," Gil pointed out. A small smile started to turn his lips as they started to fall back into their normal banter.
Gilbert was right, Roderich realized. "Fine, then you are going to stay here whether I like it or not," he corrected. Blindly, he felt around for the locks on the door, and secured them.
"And if I don't like it?" Gilbert asked with a smirk.
"Stop contradicting yourself!"
Gilbert bit back a snicker. "Like you're one to talk. Are you going to force me? Do you plan to lock me up in some dark room to make me stay?"
Roderich's violet eyes flashed dangerously. "If that's what it takes, then yes. I'm not going to let you wander aimlessly because you have no place to go."
"Why do you care so much?" Gilbert asked bluntly.
That caused Roderich to pause. He had been asking himself that question for the better part of the day. "Because you're the closest thing to a friend I actually have," he finally answered truthfully.
Disclaimer: Hetalia and it's characters don't belong to me. Never have, and never will. Thankfully.