A/N: Hello! Returning from the fandom graveyard to update this fic. Although I'm not as into the Hetalia fandom as I was years ago, this fic always stayed with me somehow, and I was recently hit with inspiration for an update. Please enjoy!
The knife spun several times in her hand, meeting the table counter with a deafening thunk.
"How is it?"
Her voice was laced with an odd mix of jealous and condescension. The knife spun once more. Thunk.
"Being brother's bitch?"
Gilbert was used to these types of interrogations, most of them at breakfast. Still exhausted from the previous night's escapades, his tired eyes kept focus on the wall opposite him, and every day he would find new cracks in the paint. He brought his mug to his lips, hoping the searing heat of the coffee would burn his throat so he wouldn't have to answer Belarus.
Thunk.
"We heard you last night," she said. Thunk. "Everyone." Thunk. "Every night."
He took a bigger sip, gulping down his coffee, black and bitter, but not as hot as he would have liked in this instance. "Yeah, I bet, your brother's loud as fuck."
Thunk.
"Not just him," she responded through gritted teeth. "You are, too."
"Bela!"
Gilbert didn't even notice the other sister's presence, but Ukraine always tried to ease the tension, pathetically. Her sister's determined obsessed could never ebb, and Gilbert got off on pissing her off, occasionally. This morning was one of those particular occasions.
He smirked, his teeth clanking against the ceramic lip of the mug. He had to admit, the previous night did get a little rough, his backside still throbbing and sore. "Oh yeah? What did I sound like?"
Thunk.
The knife didn't return to her hands, but stuck out from the table amid the other gashes it had made. Belarus grabbed its hilt, twisting it deeper into the wood. "A bitch," she said, her lip twitching up in a sneer.
Gilbert leaned back in his seat, the conversation infinitely more refreshing than his stale cup of coffee. "Elaborate," he said, pushing the chair back onto its two back legs. "What does a bitch sound like? Was I barking? Cooing at your brother to suckle at my nipples?"
"You!" Belarus plucked the knife from the table and catapulted herself towards Gilbert. Ukraine could barely get there in time to hold her sister back, but Gilbert simply smirked, satisfied in what he knew was going to happen.
"Then do it," he said, flicking his head towards her. "Stab the bitch you hate so much."
Her hand clutched the knife until her knuckles paled. The blade was inches from Gilbert's throat, but it never touched his flesh; it remained in her shaking hands, tears starting to pool from her eyes.
Gilbert pitied her, as he pitied everyone in this house. "Can't do it, huh," he said, his tone soft and losing its aggressive edge. "Yeah, I know that." He rocked his chair forwards, landing it on all fours before getting up from the table.
As much as she wanted to, Belarus could never deal a lethal blow to Gilbert. He had figured out a pretty decent theory, too; a bit of Russia was now inside him. She could never harm her beloved brother, and in turn, she could never harm Gilbert. He grabbed her hand and started to peel her fingers from the knife.
"Don't touch me," she shrieked, nearly choking on her tears. "You disgust me!"
Gilbert let the knife fall from her hands, clanging on the table. "Yeah," he said, watching her fall into her chair, curling into a ball, sobbing into her still shaking hands. "I disgust me, too."