So this chapter is a little darker than I had planned, but it still seemed fitting because now I have a good idea of where I want this to go. Also, Now that the first chapter is complete, it should usually go from Austria's point of view to Prussia's. Austria's will be boring the first few chapters -" but they will get better! Thank you for all the story faves/alerts and reviews. This helps me write more! ~CanvasPrincess
Three days after the first note, there was no sign of the Prussian. Still unmoved, Roderich continued about his usual business, and kept to the house. He headed down to the music room and sat down at his piano. Today's piece was Chopin's Etude in C minor, Op. 10 No.12 "Revolutionary". It was a very fast, very emotional piece, which the Austrian usually played when he was particularly troubled. His hands fluttered across the keys, he performed the fast arpeggios and quick scales flawlessly until his right hand hit the high C, which refused to sound, and replied with a meek note. Angered, he stood from the piano and looked into the grand piano's strings to see what was causing the problem. There was a piece of paper caught between the high C string and the C# string. He carefully pulled the scrap from the piano and set it on the top of the piano while he finished his music. Once again, the music room echoed with the fast, dark, piano etude. He released his anger through his fingers onto the piano and his face was grim with concentration.
When the piece was finished, he opened his eyes and glanced at the paper. Adjusting his glasses, he picked it up and opened it to find another note from the Prussian.
Hey specs, why don't you play something more awesome?
Better yet, don't play anything! Kesesese-get a life, damn Aristocrat.
Annoyed, he threw the piece of paper in the waste basket and walked out of the music room. The damn Prussian must have left dozens of notes throughout his house. Cursing under his breath, he continued to the living room, where he sat and turned on his own T.V., something he never did unless he had company. He would sometimes watch a movie with Elizabeta, or sometimes watch from the kitchen when the albino decided to come over unannounced. He flipped channels for nearly an hour before falling asleep on the couch in a dreamless sleep.
The albino was now slightly worried with what he had gotten himself into. He had come to Ivan's as a way of saying he wouldn't go back, but now, he regretted his choice. Of course, the Russian welcomed the Prussian back into his home, but saw the cold look in his eyes that was misleading. The other members of the household were as he remembered, pale and silent. Whenever any of them spoke, it was always a stutter of fear, and the smallest one, the Latvian, cried and shook. The long-haired pale girl usually clung to Ivan's arm, even when it was the arm holding the pipe. The shorter haired Ukrainian would usually keep to her own room, and sometimes when he walked by, she cried softly. The Lithuanian had spoken to him when he arrived.
"Why did you come back?" Toris had asked. "You had actually made it out of here!" he had told him in a horrified whisper.
"Didn't have much reason to stay," he shrugged nonchalantly.
"But Ivan, he could kill you this time, why are you throwing your life away this way?" he pleaded again.
"Toris, I came back because I found that maybe I'm not supposed to live anymore. I'm an ex-nation, remember? I'm not worth anything to anybody," he replied coldly.
"But what about your brother? And Roder…" but the Prussian cut him off.
"Don't talk about the damn aristocrat!" he snapped. "He doesn't care at all about me," he finished. The Lithuanian hesitated before replying again.
"D-Don't say that. I'm sure that they all worry about you very much; I know everyone was worried when you were taken the first time. Especially Roder…"
"I said not to talk about him! He doesn't care ok? A-And neither do I!" he shouted back. Why did everyone insist that Roderich actually cared about him? How stupid could you get? The damn pansy was always cold to him whenever he came around the house.
He sat in his "room" with his head out the window looking out at the gray sky. It would be any day now when Ivan would come around and get angry. Hell, he'd make the Russian angry if he had to. He almost wanted the heavy metal crashing against his skin, like the last time. He snickered darkly to himself. It would be satisfying to know that he would die awesomely.
Even when he was totally ready to face death head on, there was still that little voice in the back of his head telling him to escape, run as far as he could, and never look back. Yet he wanted to crush that feeling with his need for revenge against the Austrian.
His thoughts were interrupted by the door behind him being blown open by the tall Russian.
"I'm so glad you came back to me Gilbert," he started darkly. "I was beginning to think maybe you had forgotten me," he smiled eerily.
"Never. I wouldn't forget," he replied simply. The room darkened slightly.
Suddenly, all the Prussian could feel was the sharp sting of the metal pipe striking him hard in the lower back. He gasped and tried not to cry out.
"Now," the Russian began. "I'm going to make sure you don't forget again," he smiled as he spoke, and his eyes almost glowed in the low light of the evening.
Another strike to the back and Gilbert was on his knees, this time he winced, and the Russian punished him a third blow to the shoulder. Containing himself, he put his hand in his mouth to keep from screaming. A heavy metal ring was placed around his ankle, tightened almost painfully, and then locked to an iron weight. When it was fastened, the other struck him again harshly.
"If you try to leave again little east, I will kill you. Don't think you can run from me, as long as I'm here, I will hunt you down. There is no safe place for you to run, because I will find you," he threatened. Then he left the albino on the floor while he stormed out.
Gilbert somehow crawled onto his small cot in the corner, and tried to soothe his swollen back and shoulder as best as he could. The Russian was angry and harsher than he had anticipated, and his only hope of survival was escape. Even if he couldn't go home, there had to be some place in the world where he might be safe from the Russian's wrath. Somewhere else where he could drown out the face of that damn aristocrat that had made him crazy for so long. He needed to escape from so many things, the albino fell asleep contemplating all the things he was running from, and dreamed of a place far away from all of it.