"Hei Lukas..." Matthias, a loud mouthed Dane with a lot of time on his hands, attempted a whisper to the calm and collected Norwegian man that sat a little ways away from him. Lukas glanced up at him indicating that he had heard, but he quickly averted his eyes and pulled out his phone pretending like he didn't hear anything making the Dane's lips bend into a sad frown. Rude much?
"Hei, Lukas... Lukas..." he whispered again, determined to capture the attention of the Norwegian, "Luuuukass...".
"Leave me alone..." a growl hummed deeply from within the tone of Lukas' voice as he continued to pretend like Matthias wasn't there. It was pretty obvious that he didn't want to be bothered but you know Mat, always has some kind of death wish. That's why everyone loved him though; he had an unhealthy habit of getting himself into deep shit.
"Lukas..." he whispered a not-so-much-as-a-whisper whisper, leaning over to his right and extending out his hand in yet another one of his attempts. He was going to make the sore mistake of poking Lukas.
"Touch me, you lose that finger."
"Then answer me!"
"What do you want...?"
"I was wondering if you were gonna go to-"
"Nope..."
Matthias huffed in frustration and glared daggers. If there was one thing he hated the most, it was being abruptly interrupted when he was speaking. It was all sorts of rude and showed all sorts of disrespect. No one really seemed to care though.
So Mat sat there and continued to glare, boring holes so far into the back of Lukas' head, he could see all the dark thoughts the other had a habit of compiling. He pulled the ends of his long sleeves over his hands and folded his arms over his chest, then crossed one leg over the other and bounced it about impatiently.
Lukas tensed.
It wasn't like he wasn't used to being glared at, because Emil had that down pat. But whenever any of the other Nordics did it, it felt so... violating and wrong. He felt that wave of guilt wash over him and he knew if he didn't give in at least a little the disgusting feeling wouldn't led up. Well, until the next day at least.
But it was Matthias...
And Matthias was probably the most annoying person on this planet...
He made Americans seem nice to hang around...
And then that feeling stared to take affect.
"Stop staring at me, Matthias." Lukas groaned as a bead if sweat barreled down the side of his paling face.
Silence.
Lukas shifted slightly and turned his head slowly, stealing a small glance at his Danish friend. The glare he was being given border lined one of Berwald's, thus meaning; he was that ticked.
"Stop. Staring. At. Me..."
Silence
"Stop..."
More silence
"Dude, stop, seriously..."
Still nothing but silence
"Oh. My. Jævla. Gud...!? Matthias, I swear, if you don't stop staring at me and say something this phone will have to be surgically removed from your ass!"
"Alright, alright, gud pokkers!"
Matthias dropped his glaring and pulled his shirt down over his ass in fear of possibly having to get it cut open due to his persistency. He pouted childishly instead. It was still annoying to Lukas but it saved him the trouble of having to shove practically his whole arm up his best guy-friend's asshole.
That would've been... ew.
"One question." The Dane chimed through the awkward silence their recent convo was sucked up into,"Are you and Lecia going to Finny and Sve's wedding?"
"They're getting marri-"
"Ja...Norge, Ja they are..."
"Hvorfor sa du ikke fortelle meg dette tidligere...?"
Silence.
Matthias stared at Lukas. He couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth, goddamn, it made him want to slap him so hard. Being the hot tempered soul he was, he should have slapped him, but if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop and that wouldn't be good.
So he stood up, walked to the kitchen, went through the fridge, pulled out a raw chicken, grabbed a knife from some drawer, and stabbed the chicken repeatedly until he was satisfied. Lukas on the other hand stayed in his spot on the couch and listened as the knife tore through skin and poked at the counter. He feared the worst, but at the same time he felt proud of his handy work.
"So, when does the ceremony start...?" Lukas asked coolly, pretending he didn't just witness the death of an already dead animal.
"At. 5." Mat said through gritted teeth, chucking the knife across the kitchen area and excessively running his hands through his hair. Lukas paled. 5 was just 60 minutes away from 6 and at 6 everything started to get darker and darker until night had fully taken over.
"5pm, right...?" He swallowed hard and tried to keep his cool, but the thought of being somewhere completely foreign until the midst of night was horrifying to him. He couldn't just ditch his friends on their wedding day though, that'd be totally messed. But he was seriously considering it.
"Ja, 5pm..." Matthias sighed and leaned up against the sink patting his burning red face in an attempt to cool it down, "Why? Got somewhere else to go...?"
"Nei, just wondering..." the young Norwegian male breathed in sharply, having now made up his mind, "I feel kinda sick all of a sudden...", he cares more about light than he does his own friends.
"Nei! You are coming, sick or not! I don't care if you start to puke everywhere, you are coming to this ceremony of unification and you are going to love the fuck out of it! You hear me? Love. The Fuck. Out. Of. It" Matthias' face went red again, but quickly returned to its usual creamy ivory color. This had 'torture' spelled all over it for Lukas, he was being forced into the steadily creeping darkness.
This was going to be one hell of a wedding.
Translations:
"Hei"= Hey/Hi
"Nei"= No
"Oh my jævla gud"= Oh my fucking god
"Gud pokkers"= Goddamn
"Hvorfor sa du ikke fortelle meg dette tidligere?"= Why did you not tell me this before?