About an hour and a half, I reach out for consciousness, again. I so desperately want to look into those crimson eyes once more and never break contact. I try to open my eyes,but the only thing that comes out is a light groan. I feel something shifting around beside me,then hear a voice, "Sorry, I'll read quieter, I guess. Just, get some rest, m'kay?"The German accent whispered delicately, before slipping an arm around my shoulder, and pulls me into a strong, yet gentle hold.
I don't get him, at all! Ugh, if he wants to be only friends, then why is he hee? Can't he tell that just seeing him, makes my heart melt, and I can barely breathe?
Maybe he doesn't know. . . ? That you like him, I mean,
Yeah, you're probably right, and doesn't want to destroy the relationship we had, then potentially ruin it if we break up in some horrible way. Hey, remember in that memory when Alfred and I were talking on the step? Well, I told him that I loved Gilbert, no matter what. So, these feelings aren't new at all, right? Maybe before I was in that incident, I may have been a thing with him, eh?
Or, you might have confessed to him, and he might have shot you down, then went to drown your feelings in Canadian Cush,
Would I really do that? I mean, it does seem credible, thinking back to the memory, but I don't think I would have reacted that rashly.
I mean, if this is killing you, then think about how much it would hurt to be straight up rejected by him. I don't know, but maybe he's straight, and is telling the truth. That you guys really are, only 'Best Friends'?
God, I hope not. I mean, I might have. Oh, man! Gilbert must be feeling shitty after rejecting me like that.
"I forgive you," I whispered in a breath. Hard to open my eyes, I give up because just feeling his presence and hearing his voice is good for now. "W-was?" He asked, I think he looked at me, because I heard him put his book on his lap, the plastic covering the hardcover crinkling at contact of the Hospital's bed sheets.
I went into a comatose-like position as I heard someone knocking on the door. I catch a tiny glimpse of the visitors at the door. It was a tall and brawny Blonde man, standing next to a bouncy, energetic man with light brown hair and a curl that bounced along with him. Gilbert hushed me, then said they could come in. The blonde man opened the door and they both came in, the brunette faster than the Blonde, shouting, "I can't wait until he can hug me again!" as he ran up beside the bed. The blonde was a little slower, yet younger, by his tone of voice. He handed Gilbert a bag, probably what he, too was, 'Somehow able to get through Security'. The Brunette held my hand and was batting it back and forth, naming all of the things we would be able to do when I wake up, then the Blonde man scolded the Brunette, who immediately dropped my hand, letting it rest where it was on the bed. Gilbert got up and began to speak to the Blonde in, what I think is German, while the Brunette was humming and lightly sang to himself.
"I am damaged. . . Far too damaged. . . But, you're not beyond repair," he was mumbling to himself in a tune. He rest his head on my chest, continuing to mumble subtle words of a song to himself as he circled his fingers around on my blanket. I then feel wet drops on my hand as he sits himself up. "F-Feliciano. . . See what that song does to you, it makes you upset," The Blonde man said, acknowledging the fact that the Brunette really was crying. He clenched the sheets on my bed as he stubbornly continues to mumble the words. The Blonde man sighed, knowing that the Brunette would need a lot more than that to stop him, and continues talking to Gilbert, who would pause before switching to the German language to answer some questions or start new topics with his 'Bruder'.
"Matthew, he has damaged. . . He's way too damaged. . . But, you're not beyond repair," He began to whisper, "Stick around here; make things better. Because life's beaten you fair and square. Please prepare, now. . . Little more, now. Cause you've forgotten what he can do," And before he could say the next couple of specified lines, the Blonde yelled, "Feliciano, enough! We need to leave, now," The Brunette caressed my hair, then got up to leave. "Ciao," He said, his voice raspy and shaky from crying.
After they both left, I opened my eyes slowly, immediately looking at Gilbert, who closed the door, then turned back to me and asked if I was alright.
But, you aren't,
Yeah, I know, but I don't want to confess to him. If he rejected me a fist time, there is no way I am going to risk that again. And, I'm sure that Gilbert wouldn't want that, either. "Sorry, Matthew. It's just that, Feliciano gets pretty emotional about that song, and you," He said, smiling weakly, sighing.
He walked over to me, and my hear pounded. He climbed back into bed with me and covered us both up. I rolled over, trying not to show him the redness on my face. He picks up his book and continues reading. After a few minute, I experienced something, I haven't had to in a long time. "Gil," I whispered, rolling over to face him once more. He looked at me, his glasses falling down the bridge of his nose, "I have to go pee,"
He chuckled and marked his place in the book he was reading. The cover of it was beautiful in the light that shone through the window. He placed the book down to the floor as he walked over to the other side of the bed, and gently pulled the blanket off.
He helped me sit up and grabbed my hand to hoist me to my feet. He quickly recoiled off of my hand and to my arm. I wanted to cry,but I needed to use the bathroom. We roughly walked, mainly I being the rough walker, over to the wheelchair the nurses provided as they left the second time they came through. Gilbert set me down, and I put my feet on the two elevated rests. He released the breaks and we began going down the hall, Gilbert pushing me. The nurses smiled and greet Gilbert informally as he walked by. Some nurses blushing and murmuring sweet nothings to each other as he passed. Though Gilbert never really seemed to notice. "Gil, do they know you?" I asked, looking around to those nurses, listening as one of the nurses, discreetly whistled on her way passed, making a group of them laugh and giggle. He looked down at me and smiled anxiously, "As I said before, Birdie. I come to visit you as much as possible. So, these nurses come into your room, or pass by nearly every day and see me." He said, making me blush.
We finally arrived to the bathroom. Gilbert helped me up and into the restroom. He basically helped me through everything, which was plenty embarrassing, to say the least! I was so embarrassed, in fact, that I hadn't said anything on the way back, just looked down, face as red as his beautiful crimson eyes looked to the way in front of us. He seemed bothered by something. "What's wrong, Gil?" I asked, without thinking. His eyes widened, then looked down to me, then softened.
"Just, trying to process what you said earlier, that's all," I tilted my head in a bit of confusion. He chuckled and said, "'I forgive you,'? What was that about?" He asked. My face felt hot, remembering that, "Yeah, I did say that," I looked ahead, then down, leaving my strawberry blonde hair to cover my watering eyes.
"I forgive you, for," I started, then trailed off as I was over thinking things in my head. By the time I opened my mouth to say something else, we arrived at my room again. Gilbert helped me back into bed. As he was rolling the wheelchair against the wall next to my bed, I decide to speak up, "Gil?" I ask. He looked at me with loving eyes, like this wasn't the first time he's taken care of me.
"Huh?" He asked, raising his brows. This is it! Use it or lose it! I love you, I love you. Come on, just say it! I. Love. You. That's all I have to say; why is it so damn hard!? "I. . . I-I," My stomach then grumbles. "You're hungry! Ha, for a second, Matt, I thought you were going to confess your love to me again!" He said, laughing his tto amazing laugh, but instead, this time, it wasn't amazing; it was a heart shattering laugh, a mocking laugh almost. Letting me know that what we thought was true.
"I see; Don't worry, then. I'll stop it," I said, covering myself with the sheets as he left the room, continuing to chuckle.
He came back a couple of minutes later to see me under the sheets, pretending to sleep, but I was crying, and he knew it, too. He hurriedly placed the tray of food on the dishing table to the right of the bed as he knelt to the bed, lifting the covers, revealing my reddened tear-stained face, furrowed brows, and quivering lips. His face had guilt written all over it. "Was it something I said?" He asked, his face of concern and guilt almost sent shivers down me. I didn't answer; I just tried to cover my face up again, but his arm was too strong. "Birdie, please, if I did something wrong. . . ?" He asked. "Don't call me that," I said, making him freeze, allowing me to cover myself and hie from his beautiful face once more.
He gets up, grabs his things, and walks out, after saying, "Alright. Well, see you later, Matthew," And, for the first time ever, hearing my name almost killed me inside. I whine and whimper in emotional pain as I keep myself hidden from the world, from my family from my friends, and most importantly, hidden from my amazing good looking crush, Gilbert.
Though, it didn't last long, as I began growing lonelier and lonelier each day that passed. I had begun Physical rehabilitation, to build up enough muscle to survive even the busiest of New York City streets. I haven't heard, nor see of Gilbert since that morning, two weeks ago. I get out of the Hospital today. They say I've advanced past their care ability.
Congrats, Matthew!
"Thank you," I whisper to myself as I sit in my bed, reading a book with my legs crossed. The nurses carried my paperwork out of the room. They said I can leave anytime today. I became absorbed in a song I had heard around here. "You are my only exception," I quietly sang. Then, I sighed heavily. "I miss him,"
I know, Matthew,
"Hmph! You aren't much help,"
Maybe you can ask Alfred to tell Gilbert that you miss his company,
"No way! I can't do that; I'm way too shy and, after that little situation two weeks ago, no thank you, sir," I said, putting my book on my lap. I then get up to walk around, phone in hand, debating on whether to do it or not. I figure, 'what's the harm in at least trying?' So, I dial the number titled 'Awesome,' it rings a few times, then a voice reached the line.
"H-Hallo?" Holy crap, I'm going to die! "Uh, hey, Gilbert?" I asked, voice trembling in fear and anxiety. "Matthew, what's wrong? Are you okay? Ugh, what is it?" He asked. I was pretty disappointed at the fact that he didn't call me 'Birdie', making it apparent that he hadn't forgotten about two weeks ago. My heart sank. "Uh, I'm sorry, Gilbert, I shouldn't have called," And with that, I hung up.
I spent the next twenty minutes hating myself for everything that just happened. Then, I hear a knock on the door, followed by a strong voice. "Matthew, it's Gilbert. Are you okay?" He asked through the door, looking through the window, worried. I knew I couldn't lie to him; he'd figure out some way. So, with a sigh, I open the door. Gilbert worriedly looked me up and down, face red, his breath still weak. He puts his hands on my upper arms, then abruptly pulled me in for a strong hug.
"I'm sorry! Did I do something wrong?" He asked. I feel the tears streaming down my face as I tightened the grip on the back of his jacket, which felt cold. I liked it, but it made me feel lonely.
Are you going to tell him how you feel?
God, no! You heard him! I've already done it, but he must've turned me down, but then, why is he running in 13 degree Celsius weather for me?
"Matthew, are you okay?" He asked. All I could do was shake my head from side to side frantically. "Do you want to talk about it?" I nod, not meaning to nod, but then, he says, "You talk and I'll listen," I smile through my tears.
"I'm sorry, Gilbert! I-I," I try to choke out, "I missed you, okay?" I finally said, blushing, clenching tighter to his cold jacket. "Ha, ha, I missed you, too, Matthew," He says, chuckling. "Don't call me that," I said, then buried my face in his shoulder, drowning in the scent of his cologne.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, pulling away from the hug I never wanted to end. I wipe the tears from my face and looked at him, but quickly looked away. I don't think he liked that too much, though. "Hey, look at me, man," He says, in a kind of demanding tone to him, but I still don't, "Gilbert, stop, please. Let's just leave it," I said, taking a step back, and turn to walk back to my bed, but he hugs me for behind. "Can I call you 'Birdie' again?" He asked. I nodded, and he hugged me tighter, laughing, "Danke, Birdie! It felt so weird calling you by your first name. I can't even remember the last time I called you, 'Matthew'," He says, then lets me go. I sit on my bed and mark my place in my book, then put it in a bag, along with other belongings Alfred brought the first time he 'smuggled' my things in through the security desk.
"Wait, are you being discharged today, Birdie?" He asked, looking at the bag of belongings. I nod and look back to him. His eyes widened. He walked out of the room to make a phone call. He comes back after a while. "Alright, Birdie, do you have everything ready?" He asked. I looked up at him, confused. "Huh?" I say. Gilbert walks over and chuckles. "My vater is on his way to pick us up. He's gonna drive us to yours and Alfred's house,"
Aren't you happy?
No, I'm not happy!
Why not?
He has no reason to see me anymore. It'll be cold and I'll be lonely again.
They said they'd hang out with you,
How many of them do you think would actually remember saying that, huh?
"Mathew, Birdie, Are you okay?"
No, Gil, I'm not, "Y-yeah, just, anxious, that's all," I lie as I hug him. He hesitantly hugs back.
"Have you heard of Hamilton?" He asks. I nod. That's Alfred's favourite musical. "Well, he's made me watch it over and over," He chuckles. I take his and. "It's quiet uptown," I sang and smile weakly up at him as I place his hand on my cheek to wipe away the tears. "No," He says and pulls his hand back, "Stop it, Birdie," He averted eye contact and my chest became cold, lonely, even.
Helps me carry my things as we make our way to the lobby of the Hospital. I was wearing a pair of blue jeans, a Maple Leafs' hockey shirt and a flannel on top. It's not like I was carrying suitcases; just a little bag and a half of things. As the door opened, I was hit with a wave of cold. I enjoyed it, but there were a lot of people outside it made me so nervous. Gilbert made his way down the steps, and towards his Prussian Blue Car driven by his father.
Gilbert opens the door for me and I sit in the middle of the back seat. Gilbert throws the bag into the passengers and sits next to me. His father smirked as he started driving. Gilbert got it from his father. Who would've known?
So, I'm driving you two to Alfred's house, then?" He asked, condescending smirk never leaving his face as he looked at Gilbert and I from the back seat. Gilbert nodded enthusiastically.
The drive was long and awkward. I kept trying to subtly escape from sitting next to Gilbert. I would shift away at stops. "Birdie, you okay?" He asked. I nodded, then looked down. Crap! I have to say something. "It's just, with the accident," I said, then trailed off. I didn't know I said that, but I also didn't know that I had tears washing over me. I quickly wipe my tears. "Birdie, I'm sorry," He said.
"We're here," Gilbert's dad said. Gilbert opened the door to get out, and held it open for me as well. His dad gave him a smirk, making him blush. "Vater, nein!" He shouted as he grabbed the bag from the Passenger's seat and slammed the door, making me flinch.
"Have fun, you two~!" His father yelled in a suggestive tone, and a giggle at the end, making us both blush as he drove off, waving his hand in a mocking way. We walked up to the porch of Alfred and I's house. "Hey, Birdie, you know of how I haven't come by the Hospital in like, two or three weeks? Well, I was helping Alfred," He said, rubbing his neck, nervously. "H-helping? With what?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows with confusion.
He motions with his hand to open the door, so I did. I slowly and cautiously walked inside. It was dark, because no lights were on. I flip a light switch and almost have a heart attack as multiple people in my house shout, "WELCOME HOME, MATTIE!" making me stumble back, almost falling.
"The hell is this?" I ask, gripping my shirt, making sure that my heart hadn't stopped as I surely believed it had. Alfred stepped forward and hugged me, "Good to have you back, bro~!" He said, patting my back. "I have arranged the most heroic coming home party ever! Everyone is here~!" I froze, laying my eyes upon a certain pair of violet eyes, accompanied my a light salmon pink scarf and heavy looking brown coat with a badge on it. "Hi, sunflower," He said, smiling, acknowledging that I was, indeed rudely staring. I shook my head, and chuckled, rubbing the back of my head.
"Thank you guys, eh! This is great," I said, smiling brightly. They all went to dancing and cheering and drinking, well all except for Gilbert. He didn't do any of that, even though I could see he really wanted to. I walked up to him, trying to hand him a German beer. "'Ey, Giillbear," I slurred a bit with my French side being hinted by the slight accent. He looked at me, a bit surprised that I was drinking. Do I usually not drink that much? Oh, well. It's my first night being home and I was offered a drink, so obviously, I'm going to take it! "Birdie, I can't. I'm Alfred's supervisor. He can't drink if I do, so," He said, looking down, a little guiltily. Oh, yeah. I forgot. Americans can't legally drink until they're like, 20 something, right?
21, Matthew. They can't drink until they're 21,
"Oh, well thet sux, but you can surely dance, can'chya'?" I asked, trying to pull on his sleeve, even though I was a bit unsteady on my feet. I don't even think the sun is out any more, and watching him by himself, standing by the door with himself looking reserved like that just pained me. I hear a knock on the door. Gilbert pulled my hand off his arm and lead me towards the living room couch and said when he gets back, he'll loosen up a bit. He walked back to the door quickly and opened it revealing officers of the law at the door. I may have got up to eavesdrop on their conversation. I don't know why, but I got pretty jealous.
"Uh, may I help you, sirs?" He asked, looking cautiously at them. One peered his head inside while the other one began asking questions to Gilbert. "We got a complaint for a party involving drugs. Now, we don't want to ruin anything, but If we may, may we take a look inside.
"Sorry, but I'm the only one with stuff, and I bout it in Canada, where it's legal, it's on the Canadian side of the house and If you're officers of American law, technically, you're not allowed to look through our house without a warrant or imminent danger or threat. And, there's no smoke nor screams coming from this house," I speak up from where I was hiding behind the coat rack. "Birdie," Gilbert says, looking back at me, "Y-you're right," He then turned back towards the officers, and said. "Well, I may not know my rights, but he sure does. I'm sorry, but I do not consent to the search," And slowly, and politely closed the door, then turned back to me, smirking.
"Dance with me, Gilbear~!" I slur as I pull him to the crowd of people dancing in the living room. "Birdie," he says as I hug him, and start to sway. The music is a slow song, which I guess is for all of the couples, because I saw Feliciano with Gilbert's brother, and others do the same, but it was different now. I love him, and now I'm this close, but am I willing to risk it all for this night? Even if I had, how long would it last? Just for this night? Would he go with it because he thinks I'm wasted? Then, shrug it off in the morning? I'm willing to, just for a night. Please don't screw this up!
As the song continues, I make my move. I hum along to the song, making Gilbert look to me with curious eyes. Maybe if I act like Feliciano, Gilbert will notice me. "Kiss me," I say, my eyes closed, blushing. I'm waiting for him to kiss me for what seemed like eternity, now. I finally feel something brush against my lips. I open my eyes to see familiar pale skin and snow white hair. I feel his hands grab my arms, trying to push me away, but he can't, he enjoys it too much to want to get rid of it. he doesn't want to push me away, so I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him in for more, as he wants.
"B-Birdie, I-I can't; we, can't," He says in a breathy gasp as I nibble on his bottom lip, beginning to grind on him. He let's out a soft moan, "But, I want to," I say, kissing at his cheek and ear, still standing in the crowd of people.
"Not, here, at least," He breathed out in a low groan. I blush and smirk. But, then I panic.
Isn't this what you've always wanted?
Yes, but he think I'm drunk. He thinks I'm just horny, but I really do love him! Having second thoughts, here! Oh, no! What's a relationship, when one half is always having doubts and second thoughts!?
Shut up, Matthew, you're drunk,
