Epitome of Awesome

Chapter 3: Love Story

Turning away from his computer, Gilbert took a resigned look around his office. He couldn't work today. Not today.

Had someone looked into his office, they would not have automatically assumed that something was wrong. Gilbert was in a classic Gilbert pose: reclined as far back as possible on his chair, arms behind his head, and legs stretched out and crossed at his feet with an expression between boredom and contemplation. If anything, the artist looked as though he was merely thinking about his next work. The albino worked with computer-created graphic designs. The company he worked for was quite odd: they made art for art galleries, yes, but they also simply made the type of art that was meant to go into clinics and offices. Gilbert worked for the latter. Usually, he would work with Antonio, one of his best mates and photographer. Tony took all the pictures necessary, and Gilbert just cut and paste and messed with the scanned shots appropriately. Sometimes, they even got request to make collages for graduations and friends. It was an interesting experience. Gilbert was normally a loud, hyper-active person, but when one sat him down in front of a computer with Adobe Photoshop and tons of other software, the Prussian could be silent for hours, meticulously working until the piece was perfect.

But, today, his thoughts were clouded and stormy – and back on memory lane.

The Prussian chuckled slightly, looking at his Canadian's beautiful face. A slightly awkward silence fell between them, as their laughter faded—and Gilbert noticed the setting sun. He hurriedly took out his phone, ignoring Mattie's confused look, and cursed under his breath.

He was late.

"Hey, Mattie, I gotta run, or I'm going to be late," Gilber said, standing up quickly and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.

"Where are you going?" Matthew asked, concern etched on his face. The Canadian stood up from his chair as well.

"The hospital."

"The hospital?!" Matthew yelped. "Why? Is everything okay?"

Gilbert hesitated. "Well... everything is kind of wrong," the Prussian said bitterly, "but just not exactly with me. It's, um, it's my, um, well, my opa, my grand-dad. He's...sick. So, I'm just visiting."

Gilbert felt his heart melt at the look of genuine concern on Matthew's face. The Canadian stepped forward. "I'm sorry," he said, grabbing Gilbert's hand and squeezing it slightly. Gilbert managed a small smile and kissed Matthew.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, then, eh?" Matthew said.

With a final nod, Gilbert left the apartment, fighting tears. He was an idiot—an awesome idiot—but an idiot all the same. He was late, and, on top of that, he had failed to properly explain to his boyfriend about his grandfather. And they'd been dating for three months. Three whole months, and Gilbert was still completely into him. Checking his phone again, as he left the apartment building, he cursed and broke into a run. He was late, late, late. Thankfully, the hospital wasn't too far from Mattie's apartment, and Gilbert wasn't completely covered in sweat when he reached the door. The air-conditioning was a nice welcome. Gilbert walked up to the nurse's desk, pen out, ready to sign in. The nurse merely smiled at him; she knew him well. She was a small thing with short blond hair and green eyes. She didn't look much older than sixteen, but Gilbert knew that, whatever her age was, she was a damn' good nurse, and he certainly wasn't going to complain.

"How's it going, Lil?" he asked, scratching his name and the date hastily on the sheet.

"I'm doing well—and doing good, I hope. Your grandfather should be awake. I checked in on him about fifteen minutes ago."

Gilbert smiled, relieved. "Thanks, Lil." He didn't like it when his opa was asleep. It made him feel like his guardian was already dead—and what if he didn't wake up?

"My pleasure," she smiled back. "Now, hurry on, you're late."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, but walked down the hall quickly. He no longer had to look at the door numbers. He'd long since learned exactly where the door to his grandfather's room was. He probably could have done it blindfolded at this point. The door was wide open. His grandfather was the only patient in the room, and the old man's lip twitched at the sight of him. His sharp angular features had somewhat been lost to the wrinkles on his face, but his sky blue eyes still watched, alert as hawk and proud as an eagle. His long blonde hair was tucked beneath his head and ran down into the blankets that covered him. "You're late," he commented.

Gilbert gave him a shit-eating grin. From anyone else—even Ludwig, maybe—the comment would have annoyed Gilbert to no end, but from his opa... absolutely not. "Yeah. I kind of lost track of time while I was at Mattie's apartment." His grandfather made no comment, but Gilbert saw where this was going. "Yes, yes. I'll bring him here at some point. I promise." His opa raised an eyebrow, and Gilbert remembered the golden rule. "Yes, opa, I'm serious about him." The old man nodded. End of conversation. Gilbert nearly let loose a sigh of relief, glad that he hadn't been grilled on that one. "How was your day?" Gilbert asked, after a long pause.

"It was all right. Lilly has been very helpful to me, and a younger girl, a volunteer, I believe, was up here for a few hours trying to teach me how to play her insane video games."

Gilbert snorted, then began laughing loudly, trying to picture his serious grandfather playing video games with a teenage girl. At the sight of his grandfather's still stern face, he merely laughed harder. "What?" his opa asked.

"Sorry, it, um, it sounds a lot like something Matthew's crazy brother would do," Gilbert lied.

The old man's expression did not change. It was difficult to know if he'd caught onto the lie, but Gilbert supposed that he had. The old man had a radar like no one else. "Tell me more about Matthew."

"Well, he—"

"I'm sorry I'm late!" Ludwig's voice came. Gilbert turned, and there stood his younger brother who clearly hadn't even bothered to change from his school uniform. Ludwig's hair was, of course, slicked backwards, though a few strands had managed to escape their gelled prison during his brother's dash; his button-up shirt was now soaked with sweat. His backpack was still on, the straps still failing from Ludwig's sudden stop. The young German ran a hand through his hand, attempting to push back the strands that had found their way to his forehead. "We got held back after class."

His opa nodded at him, then looked pointedly at Gilbert. "Um, well, Matthew's an awesome guy, and—"

His grandfather sighed. "If I were given a Euro, a single Euro, each time that you said the word 'awesome,' I swear, I think I'd have enough to buy three or four new houses by the Seine."

Gilbert merely grinned at him again. "Well, actually," Ludwig interrupted. The boy slung his backpack off and took out a notebook, scribbling on it hastily. "I don't think so." Gilbert and his grandfather gave each other a knowing look. Gilbert face-palmed.

"Um, Lud, we didn't—"

"No! It's okay, Gilbert, I've got it." The German boy's blue eyes shined with excitement as he scribbled on the notebook. "And, sorry, opa. You wouldn't have enough. You see, Gilbert says 'awesome' about ten times each hour—keep in mind it's an average—but while there are twenty-four hours in a day, Gilbert is probably only up for about sixteen of those hours. So if you multiply those, you get 160 'awesome's each day. There are 356 days in each year and Gilbert's obsession with the word 'awesome' started when he was sixteen. So, if you multiply 160 by 356 and then multiply that by eight—which is the number of year's Gilbert's been saying the word 'awesome'. And if you do that, then you get 455.680 Euros. So, you could buy one house, but not two," Ludwig reasoned.

Gilbert and their grandfather merely stared at the teen. Ludwig looked at both of them with an air of pride about his accomplishment. "Have you managed to teach him nothing?" their Opa finally asked Gilbert.

Gilbert shook his head, sighing. "I've tried. I've brought him alcohol; I've offered him cigarettes; I've invited him to clubs. I even set him up on a few dates. I've done everything I can," Gilbert said. The old man on the bed sighed and nodded in a resigned manner.

Ludwig blinked in surprise, his intelligent eyes flickering between his brother and his grandfather uncertainly. Then it seemed that something occurred to him. "Wait," Ludwig said, shocked. "You set me up?" The teen placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, forcing him to turn towards him.

Gilbert shrugged, though his red eyes clouded with mischief. "Belle owed me," the Prussian answered nonchalantly. "If it makes you feel any better," the older brother half-snickered, "she said that you are kind of cute in a socially awkward way, but that you're a bit nerdy and serious and not exactly her type. But she says she'd be down if I brought you along on one of our—"

"No," Ludwig interrupted, a smile threatening to break onto his lips. "It's fine. More than fine, actually." The teen looked relieved.

Gilbert smirked. Of course. "Hey, Lud, is there something you'd like to tell us?"

"What?" Ludwig asked, looking slightly panicked. "No. I mean, not that I could think of..."

"You sure, Ludwig. You know we'll love you no matter what," Gilbert said, unable to stop a smile from blossoming on his features. The albino's red eyes shone with mischief. He had known for a while now that Ludwig was gay. It was actually pretty obvious if you weren't begging to see stereotypes for proof. But still pretty obvious with the way he blushed and stuttered around that brunette Italian kid that had some class or another with him.

"Gilbert," his grandfather said warningly.

"fine, fine," Gilbert grumbled. "I won't mention it." Ludwig let go of him and looked relieved once more.

"Sit," their grandfather said. "I want to tell you all a story..." The old man's blue eyes stared out the window, lost in the sea of lights and cars returning home.

Gilbert sniffed slightly, bringing up his clenched fist to his eyes and rubbing at them viciously. He should be happy. He should be thrilled about the news, but, at the same time, it reminded him only of all those lost opportunities. Of his grandfather's dead dreams. Of his own wilting dreams.

Of how different life could have been if a government had tried to legislate morality.

A small chirp brought a smile to his face. He removed himself from his sitting position and stood up walking to the rather large cage that hung from the corner. Most had a television in that corner of their office, but Gilbert—after much cajoling—had managed to get a cage installed for his pet, Gilbird. The tiny little thing chirped again. "I'm coming," Gilbert whispered. With nimble fingers, he opened up the cage and stuck out his index finger. The yellow puff-ball eagerly hopped on, and Gilbert slowly brought him out of the cage, careful not to startle him. Gilbert smiled at the sight, bringing his other index finger to rub the top of the creature's head. "Well, at least you're still here," Gilbert mumbled to the bird.

And that he was. The last memory, the last gift that he had from his Opa, his vater.

A/N: Alexander is Germania and Lilly is Lichtenstein.