(A/N) Well, I guess you could say this is the sister chapter for the last one. Hope it's any good!
Also, if you see any typos, or sentences that you think would sound better another way, feel free to tell me. Actually, I'd like to make you obligated to tell me, but I really can't force you guys to do anything... = B=
I sometimes see typos in other fics, and I feel like the author will be mad or take it the wrong way if I tell them, so I never do. I just wanted to say that I'm not like that. Even if there's one part of a sentence that is hard to understand, please tell me!
Enjoy, I guess...
The door to the house slammed open violently, startling Roderich out of his reverie. The clanging in the hallway, no doubt made by his annoying partner, made his brow furrow. A louder crash and a disoriented shout informed him that Gilbert had fallen down the stairs. On the way up. Lord have mercy on the wallpaper...
"Rooooooooddyyyyyyyyyy!"
"I told you not to call me that!" He called back, wincing as yet another thud was heard. He squeaked quietly when Gilbert threw the door open violently. He stood there in the doorway, chest heaving. Roderich rolled his eyes.
"Gilbert, you really must learn to be more graceful. All these slamming of doors—"
"I have a surprise for you!"
"Pardon?" He hoped it wasn't something horribly stupid. He almost shivered when he remembered the last time Gilbert had a 'surprise' for him. He noticed Gilbert grimace at his reaction.
"It's nothing like the last time!"
"Oh, thank god!" he said, rolling his eyes. Gilbert mimicked him, exaggerating it with a dramatic head movement. Even with the confirmation that he wouldn't pull a stunt like the last time, Roderich still braced himself for Gilbert's antics, nonetheless.
"We're going to a thing!" he announced.
"What thing, Gilbert?" he was already exasperated.
"A thing!" Gilbert was never good with word when he was nervous.
"Gilbert, I am serious, just tell me-"
"A THING, yanno?" Lord, help me...
"No, I do not-" He was abruptly cut off as two slips of paper were shoved in front of his face.
"This thing!" Can't he ever be romantic?
"Oh." He peered closely at it. "Oh!" They were tickets to the Los Angeles Philharmonic.
XXXXXXXXX
"It's been a lovely night, Gilbert. Thank you for taking me, and for especially for managing to behave well."
"Aww, you underestimate me, babe!" Gilbert flashed a grin that almost made Roderich forget the cold. Almost.
"I think we should be heading back to the car about now," he admitted. Gilbert nodded in understanding, took his arm, and began to lead him back. Roderich looked at Gilbert's serene face, glad to see it finally completely relaxed. However, it was destined not to last for long. His face instantly hardened, and he pulled Roderich off to the side.
"Gilbert, what-"
"Just follow me." His voice was hushed and stern, leaving no room for argument. Roderich was confused, but followed nonetheless. Gilbert sighed at his lover's perplexed stare, and continued to drag him along. That's when Roderich noticed the drunkard staggering towards them. He looked at the pair, then stopped and gave a confused stare.
That makes two of us.
Gilbert began to walk faster. The man was now walking towards them, much to Roderich's disgust, and in a slurred voice, he called out the dreaded slur.
Roderich was shocked. He began to turn, but Gilbert roughly pulled him back.
"Ignore it," he hissed. But the man was persistent. Roderich half wanted the man to catch up, so that he could tell him how rude he was being. When he did, Roderich was about to open his mouth when Gilbert panicked and pushed Roderich away.
"Run!" he whispered harshly.
"B-but why—"
And then he caught sight of the gun.
"Go!" Gilbert cried desperately. Roderich began to slowly back away, afraid of leaving Gilbert behind.
The man raised his gun and pointed it at Gilbert, and Roderich seemed to finally understand the seriousness of the situation. This man wasn't just another homophobe; he was a violent drunkard who wanted an excuse to shoot.
"NO!" cried Roderich. "GILBERT, PLEASE!"
Bang.
Roderich awoke with a jolt, eyes wide, breath heavy, and body covered in a cold sweat. He lay there for a moment, calming his heart and staring up into the canopy of his bed. The cold moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains at the open window as they blew into the room. Roderich got up slowly and rubbed his face, groping for his glasses. He put them on and read the clock. 4:53. He groaned and fell back on the covers. He hated having nightmares. He could never remember anything about them, but they all ended the same way: with Gilbert's death, and sometimes, his own, though he never understood why. For the longest time, he had tried telling Gilbert about them upon waking up, forgetting that he couldn't, and never would be able to again. There was no way he could go back to sleep now. I can't go on like this... he thought, looking at the empty space beside him. There's no way.
Now that it's summer, I'll be updating more. This was a short chapter, ahhhh!
#_ #
