A/N: That's it! I'm not going to make any promises anymore. I keep failing my subscribers. But I will try hard to post EARLIER than I usually do. I'm trying to get feedbacks. If I don't, sad to say I would be stopping this Fic. Thank you!

Disclaimer : How many times do I have to go over this? I DO NOT OWN HETALIA


"This is not what it looks like"

"Oh my god, Matthew I thought I told you not to make a move before me?"

"No, Feliks, you don't understand, I—"

"Mattie, if I didn't know you, I'd call you a whore"

"Alfred—"

"Matthew Jones-Kirkland Williams, this act will not be tolerated in this house"

"Let me explain please, you're getting it all wrong"

"Matthew Jones-Kirkland Williams?"

"This is not a good time to explain right now Gilbert"

"I'm waiting Matthew"

"R-right"

In case you missed the last episode, and I am referring to the last chapter before this, Matthew was caught in an 'unusual predicament' that left him in the position he is currently in. The blonde Canadian stood awkwardly in front of his Brit foster father and tried to explain—badly, might I add— as to why he was lying on top of Gilbert in the middle of the corridor while in the dark.

The silverette albino could only look at him with raised eyebrows as he stuttered out an explanation. And in all honesty, Matthew made it look like they really did something wrong. Nevertheless, he did not interfere— not that he was scared of Arthur or anything like that but he had to let Matthew explain, otherwise he might peeve the already peeved Brit by speaking. He remained seated on the carpeted floor, both hands atop his knee.

"The power went out?" Arthur said, quirking one eyebrow—he doesn't seem to be satisfied with the story just yet. He threw a quick glance at the German that is watching the whole scene. He looks innocent enough, I'll let this pass, he thought to himself before returning his eyes to Matthew,

"Very well then," He continued, "It's late, and the storm is hitting pretty hard so I guess you're just going to have to stay here"

Gilbert swore he could've heard his instinct saying that it would be a bad idea, and more often than not, his instincts are always best to be followed.

He stood up, dusting his pants and shirt, "No thank you" he said, as politely as he could POSSIBLY do. (This is Gilbert we're talking about people, POLITE and GILBERT does not go together in the same sentence unless 'isn't' is between them.)

He turned towards Matthew, waving goodbye and nodded at Arthur, Feliks and Alfred. "See yah tomorrow!" He said beckoning a goodbye as he walked off to the night.

The cold, stormy night.

Okay, maybe it was a bad idea to head on home after knowing that the house is so darn cold and your fucking heater just died down.

"S-shit. I sh-should've stayed there. I-I'd rather spend an evening in that whacko house than die of cold h-here."

Gilbert wrapped himself tightly in his comforter he dragged all the way down to the living room, staggering slightly to reach the hot coco on top of the coffee table.

He checked his phone desperately for any messages. Maybe someone might offer him a nice toasty place to rest in for the night. Or maybe a text message from his brother saying he's on his way home and he just happened to buy a heater when he dropped by the appliance store.

Too bad that theory set sail millions of years ago. His phone had none of the two. Actually his phone has no messages at all. He'll die in there. Alone. With nothing but just clothes on his back and a turkey jerky in his pocket.


The morning after, the sun shone brightly on one Gilbert Beilschmidt that lay lifeless on the living room floor, drooling unnecessarily on the brown carpet.

No worries, he' s still alive and breathing—which is by the way, the biggest miracle in history, it's so impossible to get pass that cold harsh weather without a heater on. But then again, Gilbert does miracles every once in a while.

Silence reverberated throughout the whole house, only the sweet melodic singing of the birds from the windows are heard and—

SLAM! THUD!

The door flew open as a brunette chick kicked through it as she held with both hands her luggage. Behind her is a very distressed guy with specks that is mumbling something about knocking instead of kicking.

"GILBE~RT! LUD~WIG! WE'RE HERE!"

Her loud, somehow masculine, voice made Gilbert shot up from where he was lying. Suddenly he felt awake and ready to run as fast as a road runner to Alaska as the voice registered in his brain as quick as the speed of light.

"Elizaveta? What is she doing here?" He mumbled to himself as he hoisted his aching body up from the floor.

Elizaveta Héderváry made her way through the house and into the living room only to see a very confused and freaked out Gilbert beside a sprawled bed comforter and an empty mug.

"Mein gott, Gilbert! Mi történt?" She said her rough German accent quite noticeable. She usually mixes German with Hungarian out of habit, "You look like a hobo! And where's Ludwig? Why is this place all messy? And why is it so cold in here? And—"

A hand went up to cover her mouth as the young man behind him, about Ludwig's age spoke with an apologetic tone,

"Es tut mir leid, Gil. We're here for your birthday"

Suddenly, the irritation in Gilbert brought about by his female guest disintegrated slowly into the wind. It's his birthday today isn't it? How could he forget his birthday?

"Ah, I see. I've forgotten all about it" he sank down on the couch, slightly slumping as he looked rather uncaring.

Elizaveta, now free from the constraint looked at Gilbert in awe. The boy was always like that every year when it was his birthday; he'd care less and refuse to celebrate it. He sees birthdays as something unnecessary and quite irrelevant to begin with.

"Listen Gil" she started, her tone a little softer this time, she sat beside Gilbert patting his back in reassurance, "This year will be different, you'll see."

"That's what you say every year" He replied with a shrug,

"Well… this time is surely different. Promise"

Gilbert looked into her eyes. She seems to be speaking from the heart so why not give this day a shot?

"Yeah, Whatever"

Elizaveta smiled cheekily, "we won't let you down."

Gilbert's birthday was also the day his mother died. After a chronic genetic disease led her to her death, Gilbert did not give anymore attention or importance, for that matter, in his birthday. He hated what happened, and until now, even if he wouldn't admit it, he still couldn't move on.


"Matthew, you slept well?" Arthur started, looking at the very drowsy and tired Canadian that was slouching on the table.

"Not really" He said.

Of course after going out into the storm to find someone to kiss and fighting off the urge to sleep on the streets because he was too tired to go back, who wouldn't be drained out?

"Well, why is that?" Feliks said, brushing his nails pink, not really touching his eggs and bacon.

Matthew answered with a groan as his face hit the table.

"Eat" The Brit said, placing the plate in front of him.

"The boy is tired, not suicidal" Alfred butted in, fixing himself his own break fast.

"Never mind him" Feliks looked up from his nails for the first time that morning, "At that rate he'd eat anything"—this was followed shortly by Alfred's giggles.

Arthur twitched involuntarily and threw a spatula at the chuckling American, "Shut up or I will stab you both to death"

"By stab you mean let us eat your radioactive food?" Alfred laughed once more, dodging the flying kitchen article that is hurdling towards him.

"I'm not hungry." Matthew said in between sighs and stood up groggily from the table. "I'd rather sleep the whole day today"

The three arguing blondes stopped to look at Matthew as he dragged himself off to his bedroom with little Kumajiro in his hands,

"That boy is really not a morning person, isn't he?"


Ludwig drove up the curb and into their driveway. He killed the engine and walked out of his car, bringing with him a bag full of pasta and tomato sauce from Feliciano and his twin brother (The one with anger management issues). They told him it was for Gilbert's birthday.

Even the Vargas Twins remembered his brother's birthday.

Which is quite a miracle, really.

He slammed his car door shut and walked to their front porch. Reaching for his keys in his vest pocket he stopped midway to listen closely to the voices he heard from inside the house.

"No."

Could it be? Could it be that she's here? But how? Why? Isn't it too early?

He unlocked the door and went in hesitantly. He cringed once he got inside knowing that a brunette Hungarian girl would be waiting inside for him with a frying pan in her hands waiting to hit him square on the head.

He felt a sigh come along as said girl was not in anyway, near the door. He closed it gently, making sure the sound won't reach to the living room.

"Gilbert?" He called out, desperately hoping the voices he heard was just his imagination and that Gilbert is in his room sleeping like a baby.

"Ludwig?" One voice answered back. It isn't the voice he was expecting.

He shouldn't have jinxed it.

"Ludwig, Gott! Where have you been? Don't you know better than running off somewhere in your brother's birthday?"

The blonde German greeted her with a forced 'welcome-home' smile and took her in a short embrace. Elizaveta hugged him back in response, not really in the mood for some frying pan action.

"Is Roderich with you?" He asked as he handed her the bag he was carrying.

Elizaveta took it quickly as she headed for the kitchen, "Yep. He's upstairs in your bedroom. Jet lag and all"

Her voice faded away as she reached the kitchen. Ludwig slumped down the couch and flipped on the T.V. skimming to channels for something good to watch.

"Ludwig!" Elizaveta called from the kitchen,

Although hesitant to stand he pulled himself up and headed to where she was, answering with a lifeless voice, 'yes?', as he got there.

"Be a dear and invite friends over, we're having a party" she said not looking up from what she was busy doing (unpacking the content of the bag)

Ludwig raised his left eyebrow in confusion. A party? Really? And what did Gilbert say about that?

Oh but, Speaking of which, where is the birthday boy anyway?


"Hello little fella~! How are you? Are you lost? Here let me carry you."

The silverette German cradled with him a little wet and muddy puppy that seemed to be lost since last night, by the way it shivered and whimpered, he could tell it was hungry and tired.

"C'mon inside and I'll give you something to eat"

He continued to walk on holding the little puppy in his arms keeping him warm. Matthew, who just happened to be staring out from his bedroom window saw Gilbert and can't help but go "aww" at the scene. He felt an urge to call the silverette but he was too shy to do so. After what happened last night, he couldn't possibly gather the guts to talk to him now.

Gilbert, having developed the instinct of an alley cat, turned his head directly to Matthew's window. He smiled and waved at the Canadian which made the little blonde blush and wave back shyly.

"Hey Mattie!" He called out with a big grin.

"Yeah?" Matthew replied a little bit too enthusiastic because for the first time in history someone other than his family did not forget his name.

"Come over to my house later, mmkay?"

Matthew looked confused and at the same time flattered, he felt like his heart was going to explode, not only did Gilbert acknowledge his existence, he is also inviting him to his house.

He managed to calm his nerves down and replied coolly, making sure he doesn't look like a jumpy nerd.

"What for?"

"For a party."

A party? HE was never invited to any party before.

Heck, he doesn't get noticed a lot to be invited to some party. Matthew felt like exploding already but he kept his composure and smiled brightly— finally, somebody who actually wants to be friends with him.

Suddenly his sluggish demeanor was gone; instead it was replaced with butterflies and stomach churnings.

"Yeah~! I'll come!"

Was it just him or was Gilbert's face brightening up? But no, it can't be. It must have been the sun. How could a nobody like him possibly brighten up a person like Gilbert's day?

"Awesome! I'll see you there!"

"OK!"

The albino laughed cheerily as he waved goodbye and vanished into his house. Matthew smiled lightly to himself as he closed his windows, spreading himself on his bed.

"Gilbert."

The silverette shut the door behind him, still cradling the little puppy in his arms, for the first time in his birthday, after his mother died, he smiled sincerely. That boy could really brighten his day.

"Matthew."


A/N: I am totally back. And I hope no more writer's block can stop me. Thanks for those who is concern for my grandmother. I will hand out to everybody a big THANK YOU. Please keep bearing with me through this fic~! I promise I won't let everyone down! See you next fic. That is if your review is enough to keep me writing.

Reviews please!