Day 2: Beach Day!
"I hate the beach!" Gilbert whined. Between the rash guard and the sunscreen, he was already feeling like an overprotected toddler. He might as well act like one.
"Halt die Klappe1!"1Ludwig snapped. "It's the annual beach party and we're expected to be there." He lugged a cooler into the BMW's trunk. "Besides, we'll have lots of beer and grill wurst." He was trying to be conciliatory.
"We can do that here in the back yard," Gilbert grumbled. "Or at the lake." At least there was shade from the trees. But Ludwig gave him that look and he shut up.
It seemed like every nation was partying it up at the beach and loving it. Gilbert sulked under the gazebo, watching gorgeous tan nations like Spain and Seychelles race into the surf without care. Some of the fairer ones, like America and Denmark, were already bronzing as they basked in the sun. He could see Austria and Hungary floating past the waves, canoodling with each other. Stupid Austria.
"Hey!" A feminine voice piped up by his side. He turned and there was Liechtenstein, rummaging in the cooler next to him. Her brother Switzerland hovered in the sun, boring the hell out of France.
"Hey, Lili," Gilbert replied without enthusiasm. He didn't want the tiny nation to see him in such an unawesome situation. He noted with some dismay that she was wearing a short red gauze kurta with long sleeves and white embroidery. He wondered what her figure looked like; from her profile, she sure wasn't built like Ukraine.
"Want a beer?" She offered him one and he took it. Then she opened one for herself and plopped next to him. Great, he thought, he'd have to make small talk with her and probably Vash.
"I stay out of the sun, too." She said calmly. "I burn and peel." He shrugged. "But I plan to go swimming." She added.
"Don't let me keep you out of the water, then," Gilbert said. She looked hurt and he felt like a jerk. She was just trying to be nice. Ugh, trying to be nice to the super-pale non-nation. He didn't feel so bad now as he finished his beer.
"I'm going swimming later. At dusk." Lili's voice had changed, deeper, harder. It was almost dangerous. "At the beach past that cluster of grass. The water will still be pleasant, but I won't have to worry about getting burned." Gilbert looked at her, intrigued. She looked back, serious green eyes. Just as he was about to ask what her brother thought of her plan, she turned her little doll smile back on. "My brother will wonder where his beer is! Bye, Gilbert!" She left.
As the sun set and more nations settled down to eat from the potluck, Gilbert heard an angry buzz of German and English rise through his beer fog. He turned his head and saw his brother, Switzerland, Austria, England, and America arguing. It was about the cost of the beach party. Vash, Lili's brother, got more red-faced and shrill as he tried to minimize his payment. Gilbert was pleased to hear his brother refuse to back down. He also noted Lili was nowhere to be seen.
It was dark enough for one of the Nordics to suggest building a campfire. As everyone helped drag over coal and dried driftwood, no one noticed that Gilbert had left the gazebo. Nations drifted into a circle, lured by Spain's guitar playing, as the former nation wandered over to the cluster of grasses Lili had pointed out earlier. He wasn't going to join her in swimming of course, no matter how appealing cool water after a hot day sounded; he was too awesome to take her invitation. Still, as he saw her red-clad figure hunched on the sand, he wondered what it would be like to be humble enough to join her. And as he watched her strip off the kurta and dash into the night-dark waves, a lovely slip of white flesh, he realized he had missed this chance.
1 German: Shut up!
