The next day proved to be a rather awkward affair between the Canadian and the German, for example, the embarrassed glances the pair shared at breakfast. However, now that Matthew had officially stabilized, and calmed down, Gilbert made his excuses and had been collected by Ludwig before lunch.

It was a miserable, rainy day; the humidity hung thickly in the air and put pressure on Gilbert's skull, giving him a thundering headache. His cracked ribs were throbbing and even taking deep breaths was painful - this meant that Gilbert often only took shallow breaths, which made him feel faint. He was so drained, so mentally exhausted and physically strained, that he headed straight to his room once he'd arrived back home, collapsing on his bed.

"Bruder," Ludwig whispered before he could go to sleep. "Was."

"I talked to Francis, and we've managed to get a referral for you, but the earliest appointment is on Montag, at 11am. Is that alright?"

"Provided I can sleep between now und then, ja. Who's the new therapist?"

"Uh...Doctor Kiku Honda, I think he said." Kiku? Thought Gilbert, frowning. Sounds like an interesting person already. "Ok, now lass mich schlafen." With a nod, his taller brother left.

Gilbert's eyes, half-closed, wandered to the window as his face and body rested on the bed covers. He watched the rain pour down outside for goodness knows how long, picking out two raindrops at random and supervising their race down the glass, feeling a small amount of victory for the winner. He didn't know if he was awake, or dreaming, or even alive.

He could see the outside world, and that was all he knew for the rest of that day.

The next time Gilbert's brain engaged he let out a long breath, sudden pain sparking in his ribcage. The clock read 21:05. Damn, I've been asleep for that long? However, he recognised the feeling of soreness in his eyes, almost the same as when he'd worn his contacts for too long.

My eyes are dry. I haven't been asleep, but...I haven't been awake either. His vision went blurry as a wave of dizziness overcame him. If felt like he had no bearing, no mass. The raindrops were still falling onto the window and they twinkled in the street lights like stars.

The more he tried to focus his vision, he more those raindrops melted together, swirling, pulling him into the navy blue sky blocked only by a glass pane.

Meow. Gilbert was still sleepy, and bordering on REM* sleep, but his ears picked up that dreaded sound easily enough. Not happy that I managed to fend you off last night, huh, kitty? I knew you would make sure I paid for that. Fucking bring it, you pathetic furr-filled sack of-

HISS! A sleek black paw slid from apparent thin air, to become mortal within the tense atmosphere of his room. Gilbert wanted to turn his head, to watch the beast as it slinked towards him. But he couldn't.

The dizziness wore off. Red eyes focused. Muscles tensed. Gilbert realised that he could not move his body.

An incredible feeling of inertia hit him: it felt like his blood had turned to concrete and was weighing him down from the inside.

He couldn't blink, or yell, or even take a breath. The silence of his internal screams scared him just as much as this unknown paralysis.

I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't breathe! Hilf mir! Jemand, bitte, hilf mir!

The corner of his bed dipped as the black cat stepped lightly upon the sheets, and Gilbert's watering eyes swivelled in their sockets to see. Much to his horror, he noticed that it had grown in size. Since he'd seen it last night, it had enlarged to the size of a lynx, it's bold blue eyes looming over him.

Gilbert felt his lungs burning, he couldn't speak either, but he could glare holes through this apparition strolling calmly across his chest, its unsheathed brown claws pinpricking the skin beneath fabric.

Glaring will do you no good, Gilbert. This is no time to act childish. That voice. It was Ludwig's. However, it was like the voice was coming from the cat, only it's mouth didn't open when it spoke.

Still struggling silently against the unknown weight, Gilbert shouted back with his own thoughts: How dare you use my brother's voice to taunt me! Vile creature, I'll kill you! The lynx-like feline bared it's long canines and let out a growl low enough to shake Gilbert's intestines.

He needed to get away. He wanted to breathe, the fire in his lungs was threatening to consume him and he would NOT be left unconscious with that malicious thing perched on his unmoving body! Looking to the ceiling, Gilbert felt something: a floating sensation, similar to that one feels when on a roller coaster, flying, drifting…

His arms lifted, and his legs. Gilbert's hair began to wave and flow as if he was underwater, as did his clothes. He gulped in air, wondering what was going on; suddenly he saw he was centimetres away from the ceiling and-

Wait. What the fuck is happening to me?! He looked over his shoulder, down onto his bed.

The bed, on which his body still lay.

Gilbert felt panic rise in him again, squeezing his throat, binding his thoughts, making him want to throw up.

He was floating. And looking down at his own body….Looking down at the lynx, still sat on his body.

The body's eyes were closed, and it's chest was rising and falling, yet the breaths were out of sync from those the awake Gilbert was taking.

This can't be real, this isn't real. Another hallucination. Another…. He watched as the cat placed both forepaws on each of his shoulders, hissing at the form. He tried shouting at it, but he couldn't move very far and the cat could not hear. Instead, it dug its claws deep into his collarbone, pulling downwards, tearing his shirt and flesh, the black fabric stained darker by red.

Nein! Halt! Gilbert screamed, as he felt a pulling sensation, like this ghostly form of himself was being dragged, as if by those claws, back into his corpse, back into the mutilation-

His real body bucked with the return of his consciousness, barely having time to comprehend the blood pouring onto his chest and stomach, the lynx making one final slash downwards into his abdomen before hissing and leaping to safety.

Standing up, unsteady and heavily bleeding, Gilbert staggered to turn on a lamp, then opened his wardrobe door, staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror.

The cat had cut a 'Y' incision from his shoulders down his stomach...just like they do to prepare bodies for embalming.

The albino slapped a hand over his mouth, wanting to scream. It's real! It's…. He put his other hand onto the cut; the flesh was frayed, the blood pouring over his hand, warm and wet.

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Nein, this looks real. It appears real and terrible and painful but- He tried to push his hand through the cut, inside his own torso cavity- in reality, this is just a hallucination, isn't it, kitty. His hand hit his thin body, where there was no longer a great big gash nor any blood in sight.

It had turned out to be a pretty strange night for Gilbert Beilschmidt.


A month passed. A month in which both men recovered from the little fight they'd been involved in, even managing to get new phones out of it. Matthew and Gilbert texted and talked on Facebook, with art as their main choice of conversation topic.

Gilbert had started taking sleeping pills again; they worked a treat, fending off the miscreant feline with the only side-effect being the fact that the pills made him drowsy in the day, too. Matthew learned to cope with Gilbert's tiredness, and they supported each other in times of hardship and happiness alike. Not that there was an overwhelming amount of the latter. They had been to a couple more of the art classes, each time seeming to draw to themselves more attention from one Mister Braginski, who had a passion for painting sunflowers.

The therapy, Gilbert found, was also helping. Doctor Honda was an incredibly serious and intense man, though small in stature. Instead of initiating conversations, he simply waited until Gilbert decided to talk about his problems. After all, this was paid time the German couldn't afford to waste, so why not let it all out?

His father, his healing ribs, his lack of a job or life in general - all of these topics and more were discussed, with Honda suggesting solutions to each.

Gilbert had been advised to rest until his ribs were better, polish off his CV, and prepare to find a job when he was better. He'd replied with, 'But I have no clue what job I'd like to do, the last job I had was a paper round at age 16.' Honda had pondered and suggested he write down what his talents were, to give them a head start.

This, a whole week later, was what he was doing now.

What am I good at, the albino thought seriously, tapping the pen against his teeth. What could I do for a living.

The pen shakily stroked paper, his messy handwriting scrawling the words, Could probably learn how to use a till. So shopwork.

And again. I like singing but Ludwig says it sounds like cats fighting to get out of a bag. I think he's jealous. He firmly told himself to focus, despite his internal agreement that Ludwig was totally in envy of his singing talent.

I'm good at lying, so maybe a Member of Parliament job would be perfect. His hand hesitated as the last useful idea came to his head. ...I can draw. Technically. Sometimes.

That's it, I'm leaving this list for now. It's making me sad. Getting up, he winced as the sliced skin on his thighs caught the fabric of his trousers. I have to stop moving too quick.

Naturally, as it was his coping method, the cutting had continued. However, due to the pills he sometimes didn't have the energy, so his legs actually healed a fair amount. But last night the pills had taken a while to work and...he'd...already found a blade.

Everyone else thought he was recovering remarkably well, especially Ludwig. The blonde German was shocked to see Gilbert wearing short sleeves for the first time in seven years - it was true the scars were plainly obvious on Gilbert's pale skin, but he only wore that shirt inside the apartment. If he was honest, Gilbert admitted he liked being able to show his arms again, if only in front of his brother.

Gilbert wasn't ready to show Mattie yet. Sure, the Canadian knew about his 'former' self-harming, but they spoke very little about it. And that was fine, because right now there was no reason to.

Right now, as he felt his heart pump blood fiercely around his body, Gilbert was content with life again.

I forgot what the feeling felt like. Being able to look at your life and smile about it, be glad that you have it. Things are improving, and...It's like a dream.

Crisps were opened; a Cola can was popped; Gilbert checked his Facebook to see a new message from Matthew.

Hey, how are you? It had only been sent seconds ago, so he typed back fast. Hallo :) I'm gut, danke. Und du?

He'd only had the chance to teach Mattie bits of German, courtesy of his habit of returning to his mother tongue when he was comfortable with someone, but he picked it up fast.

Alles ist gut bei mir, auch. Uh...was that right?

Gilbert chuckled softly. Ja, da hast du recht. Wanna come over later? I have this new Xbox game

He was always nervous when it came to inviting him over, or when Mattie invited him over, because every time he looked into those eyes he saw the night they almost kissed, and it made him feel uncomfortable. Regardless, he wanted to spend time with the petite blonde, who replied with, Oui, sure. About 6? Red eyes glanced at the time: 6pm was four hours away. Mm, 4pm He joked.

Non, I have work! ...5:55pm.

Fingers typed fast. Nein, 5:30pm. He could practically hear Matthew's playful sigh of exasperation, and see his look of defiance as his reply came. ...5:45 and I'm not changing it :P

Done. See ya!

Gilbert knew not to panic. He knew. Ludwig had left for work, he had his own keys, and their apartment was fairly tidy.

Oh. OH. Was that an empty crisp packet on the floor, centimetres from the bin? And were those crumbs on the kitchen island? Why were his boxers thrown over the back of a chair? Cursing himself for being a lazy bastard, Gilbert pulled out a wet cloth, rubber gloves, cleaning spray and got to work.

Mattie knocked on the door at 5:46. Not that Gilbert had noticed; he'd still been busy cleaning. Opening the door he let the twitchy Canadian in, hiding his gloves and cloth behind his back. "Hi," Gilbert greeted with an embarrassed grin, ashamed to have been caught doing what he perceived to be his brother's job.

"W-were you...cleaning?"

"There is no need to look so shocked."

Mattie hesitated. "But you were cleaning." Hitting him playfully on the shoulder, the albino placed the cleaning things under the sink, and gestured to the sofa situated before the TV. "I was just as shocked to know you played video games," He stated bluntly.

"Well, yeah, of course I like them. They're violent." The cute smile offered with this somewhat surprising comment gave Matthew a Chuckie-like aura which quite frankly scared Gilbert. Nevertheless, they seated themselves on the sofa, each holding a controller as the game started. It was something of a futuristic sort, all about aliens and space ships and big-ass Weapons of Mass Destruction.

Gilbert's character also got to run around shooting things with a bazooka, so that made him happy. Mattie's character, decidedly the sidekick, followed him up on missions and took out anyone he'd missed with a crossbow. Both of them ignored facts like there was no gravity in space, so technically they shouldn't be able to shoot anything.

For the fifth time in this new mission, Gilbert's character was killed, this time decapitated by a rough-looking alien.

"Damn stupid frickin' broken game!" He spat, infuriated that he couldn't even get past the second checkpoint to save the game and he'd been so goddamn close-

"Calm down, it's just a game-" Mattie began, only to stop when his own character was killed by the same creature. A look of dark anger swept over his face. Gilbert let out a laugh, "True, but it's a game I really want to complete."

That is the most angry I've ever seen him, haha! Guess we do have a lot of similarities.

Getting up, setting his controller aside the white-haired German asked, "You want a drink or something? I'm having a Coke."

"O-oh, I'll have the same, please." Mattie's face was creased in concentration, trying to figure out how to kill the obstructing alien, in the most violent way possible. This consisted of attacking it with a hunting knife, gutting it on the spot. Mattie was incredibly proud of his achievement, and when Gilbert came in he commented, "Holy shit you killed it? How?"

"He has a blind spot. I found it." Mattie's cheeks were tinged with pink, though from frustration or determination it wasn't clear.

Gilbert, without thinking, leaned backwards over the sofa, so his head rested on the cushions beside Mattie's hip. "Ooh, it looks cooler upside down." He handed Mattie a can of Coke.

"What are you doing?" Queried the smaller blonde.

"I have no idea." Suddenly his spine made a cracking sound, and he took a sharp breath which aggravated his ribs. "AH, that hurts!" Mattie jumped up, moving around the sofa, trying not to roll his eyes. "That's what you get for-" Mattie's hands grabbed Gilbert's arms to pull him upright, "-being so weird."

"I'm not- ow!" The force of Matthew's pull was more powerful than he'd expected; Gilbert tumbled forward with the momentum and Mattie fell onto the table behind the sofa, his back pressed against the polished wood and Gilbert's body millimetres from his, the pale man's hands either side of his head. "D-danke," He muttered, Mattie's wide eyes staring into his. Gilbert noticed something. "You wearing new glasses?"

Mattie gulped. "Of course. I'm not going to keep wearing my broken ones." These glasses were also oval-shaped, with blue frames, but the lenses were thinner. "Is your eyesight getting better?" Gilbert asked, peering closer at Matthew's violet orbs, unaware that doing so brought their faces closer together.

"N-no, b-but-" Small, clear circles could be seen in Mattie's eyes. "Are you wearing contacts and glasses?" A crimson blush travelled up the Canadian's neck and onto his face as he lay on the table. "...M-maybe."

But why would he need to wear both? Gilbert remembered something: he'd once said that the glasses were responsible for making Mattie look more feminine.

"My Dad suggested I try out contacts, b-but I'm wearing glasses incase they don't work." Carefully, Gilbert reached up and removed the glasses with slender fingers. "How clear can you see now?"

Mattie could see really well. He wanted to say so. But he got distracted looking at the shape of Gilbert's face: the low, sharp cheekbones, his flawless white skin, layered and styled white hair framing his bold, bright ruby eyes. His nose was straight and elegant, and his lips were thin but a nice pink hue. Gilbert licked those lips just then; Mattie really wanted to kiss him.

Someone cleared their throat loudly, deliberately, startling both men into standing up straight.

Ludwig put his briefcase down gently by the front door, one blonde eyebrow raised in suspicion.

"Hallo." Gilbert returned his greeting, while Matthew nodded. Ludwig's serious face frowned, and when Mattie wasn't looking he beckoned his brother into the hall to speak. "Bruder, you didn't tell me Matthew was coming here."

"I texted and said I was meeting up with him!" The taller man's eyebrows twitched, a common sign of his irritation. "Ja, but I thought you were going to his house, not-" A blush darkened his face. "I-I have made plans for later on."

"Eh?"

Large hands buried themselves in pockets. "I...I invited Feliciano over for dinner." He could see the wheels in Gilbert's head turning, and waited for the inevitable-

"Awwww, Ludwig~!" Thin hands gripped his shoulders as the younger looked away from his teasing brother. "You're finally making a move!"

"Ruhig sein, Dummkopf!" Gilbert laughed, his fingers pinching Ludwig's cheeks adoringly. "Kesesese, Bruder you're so cute sometimes! So when's he coming over?"

"Um acht Uhr, and you can't be here." Gilbert stopped laughing, and bit his lip. "Is it just dinner you're planning?"

"Bruder-!" More uncontained laughter from the albino. A glance at the clock told Ludwig it was already quarter to seven, he had to get the food done! Removing his suit jacket, he addressed Gilbert firmly. "Can you just, be gone before seven bitte."

Gilbert hung on the doorframe. "Aw, but we were playing my new Xbox game," He whined, swinging the door. Ludwig's thick arm stopped the door and cold blue eyes glared. "Then take the game to his. I know how much you love to embarrass me, so-"

"Damn right I do."

"-there's no chance this will go well if you're here. And by extension, Matthew." Gilbert pouted, but he understood Ludwig's concerns. How many times had he asked his brother to leave because he was having a girl round? Lots. And some of those times weren't even dates.

He's growing up. I don't want to ruin his chances with Feli, he's such a good guy. Gilbert tapped the buff blonde on the shoulder. "So Feli's not attracted to me?"

"What is that supposed to mean."

"Did you clear up the kiss thing between me and him? 'Cause I don't fancy him and-" Ludwig put up a hand. "We talked about it. He said it was a mistake, and that he hopes he didn't mislead you." Mislead me?! Him? Thought Gilbert angrily. "Well, alright. Gut Glück, Bruder," With a mock salute he raced into the living room where Mattie was still playing the game. "Oi, Mattie, can we go to yours for a bit?"

Mattie frowned in confusion. "Quoi?" Saving the game and putting it in the case, Gilbert threw his hoody around his shoulders as he unlocked the front door. "I'll explain on the way."


"A date?" Mattie laughed quietly as they strolled to his apartment.

"Ja, I know! I am proud of him." Gilbert seemed to walk with a spring in his step, but that might have been because of his ribs. The Canadian shook his head, smiling. "Who's he inviting over?"

"Ah, this guy he's had a crush on for years. Feliciano." Mattie adjusted his glasses. "Your brother's gay? Really?"

A smirk was sent his way. "You sound hopeful, Matthew." The blonde's cheeks turned bright red and he balled his fists in front of his mouth. "I- I, uh, I didn't mean-"

Gilbert put a reassuring arm around his shoulders, laughing, "Kesese, I was joking!"

"O-oh…" Mattie giggled nervously, lowering his hands.

"Unless you do actually fancy him." His friend's blush deepened and he refused to meet his gaze. Gilbert stopped walking, spinning Mattie around. "Oh mein Gott….you have the hots for Ludwig!"

"I do not! I hardly know him!"

"So? I've had crushes on loads of girls I never got to know." Mattie gave him a skeptical look. "I don't fancy Ludwig."

"He talks a lot about you when you're not there." Purple eyes widened. "Really?"

Gilbert clapped once, that cocky grin plastered to his face again. "I knew it! I knew-" Mattie threw a soft punch to his shoulder. "Ow! Don't hit me I'm fragile." Mattie offered his best scowl, but it turned playful. "Then stop trying to tease me."

"Ok, ok. Sorry. I know you can't help going after my gay brother who looks just like me but blonde." Mattie's jaw dropped. "What are you insinuating, Gil?"

Both with blushes, now it was Gilbert's turn to falter. Oh God, what DID I just insinuate? "N-nothing, nevermind." He clicked his fingers. "We should so spy on them and see how it goes!"

"Non, we're not doing that," Mattie dismissed, walking ahead of the taller man. "That's disrespectful."

"Not if they don't know we're there. I have no idea when to go home!"

"W-what do you m-mean?" Mattie raised an eyebrow, as Gilbert replied shyly, "Well...Lud, uh...d-didn't say what exactly his plans were…"

"Oh, you think Feliciano's going to sleep over?" Gilbert snorted, "You make it sound so innocent," he muttered. "Ja, I think he might. So, let's go spy!" He turned to go back but Matthew grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, yanking him back. "You're not like this when one of your friends goes on a date, are you?"

Friends? He's using the plural, but he's gotta know he's like my only other friend from Ludwig. "Why do you ask?"

Mattie seemed to shrink a bit. "W-well, like….Say if...I was going on a d-date would you spy on me-?"

"You're going on a date?" The German blurted. "With who?" He didn't mean to sound snappy, but this was a total shock to him.

Mattie recoiled slightly, looking away. "I-I wasn't going to say anything, b-because well it never came up. B-but I've been hanging out with Ivan a lot lately."

Ivan Braginski. Matthew is going on a date...with Ivan Braginski. Gilbert felt uneasy hearing that name. He didn't know the man well; something he was glad to say, as the Russian had an aura about him both terrifying and intriguing. Evidently Mattie had thought the same thing, but acted upon his impulse.

The albino tried not to show as much emotion on his features as compared to the concatenation of feelings lashing his mind. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow." Tomorrow? He wanted to yell at Mattie. Thanks for the warning! I could've just gone without knowing. Instead, Gilbert just echoed the word, 'tomorrow' aloud, and they continued walking.


At Mattie's, neither of his parents were home and they set up the game again in his room, but Gilbert wasn't really focusing on it. He's going on a date, with Ivan. So what? I should be happy for him, he's...found a guy who is probably normal and who likes him in that way.

"You're annoyed about Ivan, aren't you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Nein, ich bin glücklich für dich." Mattie asked him to repeat it in English. "I'm happy for you, Mattie." Mattie put the controller down and faced him, cross-legged. "And we agreed to not tell lies."

A sigh leapt from Gilbert's throat. "I just have a bad feeling about him. There's something...foreboding about the way he speaks and moves. It's like he's stalking you." That got a cringe from the Canadian. "Gilbert, that's a horrible thing to say-"

"Well, sometimes the truth about what I think is horrible, Matthew," He snapped, his lips pulling back in a snarl. "And I don't want you to be in danger. I wish I could like the guy, for your sake, but I can't."

"He might not be a bad person. I've met up with him alone before and he's never done or said anything weird." Gilbert's eyes widened. He'd already met up with him, alone? After all the shit they'd been through with strangers? "Maybe you don't know him well enough yet. He could be planning something-"
"That's why people meet up, Gil, so they get to know each other better!" Mattie's face was flushed, his hair curling like golden snakes over his shoulders.

Gilbert gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into his thighs, using the pain of the cuts to calm his mind. "Ngh...I wouldn't say these things, if...If I wasn't certain he's harmful."

Matthew folded his arms and spat, "Really? Because if anything you sound-" He stopped himself, his expression falling.

The albino raised an eyebrow. "I sound what, Matthew?" The blonde man bit the inside of his lip. Instead of finishing his sentence, he whispered, "Why did you suggest that I liked you on the way here?"

"Was?" Mattie scowled. "You heard me. You suggested that I liked you and it's not the first time you've done that. You tease me, and you flirt with me, knowing that you're doing it. I know it's playful, but...I almost believed it." His purple eyes now looked watery, and he focused his gaze on the carpet floor. Gilbert watched him intently, silent, hanging on his every word.

Mattie jumped up, his fists balled and arms tense. "Do you know how you sounded after I mentioned Ivan?" Red eyes pleaded with him to share the answer. "You sounded jealous."

Gilbert wanted to tell him no, no, that Mattie was being ridiculous. But he didn't.

I...He's right. He's right, I…did sound jealous. But I wanted to protect him.

With a stifled sob, Matthew sat heavily on his bed, feet touching the floor. He covered his eyes with his palms. "It's true, I did like you, Gilbert. I...I really liked you." The happiness Gilbert thought he would feel at hearing those words didn't come. Did. He said did. Past tense. "But you don't now."

"Non, not like that! Because-" Teary, bloodshot eyes glared at him from behind parted fingers. "I didn't want to scare you away. You were the first person to talk to me aside from my family, in years! You were really nice to me, helped me, gave me friendship...And when I found out you were straight, I felt guilty for liking you. I felt ashamed, because I knew it was hopeless and unrequited but I couldn't stop.

"So when Ivan started talking to me, inviting me out, openly showing me he liked me, I decided to bury my feelings for you. I believe Ivan is a good person, who's good to me. I'm not used to putting myself first, but it feels damn good. If you're straight, and if you're my friend, why do you seem so conflicted?"

"Because I am!" Gilbert was on his feet. "I am conflicted, about everything! My whole fucking world has changed so much since I met you! I don't know what my mental state is, I don't know what my sexuality is, sometimes I don't even know who I am." He felt a tear run down his cheek, but left it on it's journey.

Mattie was looking up at him through equally angered eyes. "Are you saying I'm to blame, for that? Am I the cat?" He hadn't mentioned it in a while but clearly he hadn't forgotten.

That was it, those words tor Gilbert's defiance apart. More tears joined the first , soaking his face and blurring his vision.

He sat down on the bed, a distance from his friend. "Nein, nein you are not the cat." An idea came to mind, the perfect representation of Matthew Williams. "You're a bird. My birdie." Mattie sniffled, again putting one fist to his mouth. "What use is a bird when there's a cat around."

"Birds can fly. They can make people feel like they're flying, too," Gilbert said.

Matthew used his sleeve to clean his face up a bit, but his lips still shook as he spoke. "Y-you're my best friend, Gilbert. I don't want to ruin that. I n-never wanted to, I just wanted to help. I wanted a friend and I know that sounds selfish but-"

Gilbert moved forward, cupped Mattie's face in his hands and kissed him.

It was a fierce touch of lips, lasting only seconds because Mattie pushed him away. "What are you doing?" He asked incredulously.

Gilbert stepped back. "I'm sorry I-"

"Go. Just go." The broken tone of the Canadian's voice, the hurt in his eyes already had him heading for the door.

He shut it quietly behind him.


Translations: (Open for correction or improvement)

Montag - Monday

Lass mich schlafen - Let me sleep

Hilf mir! Jemand, bitte, hilf mir! - Help me! Somebody, please, help me!

Nein! Halt! - No! Stop!

Alles gut bei mir, auch - I'm fine, too

Ja, da hast du recht - Yeah, you're right.

Ruhig sein, Dummkopf! - Be quiet, idiot!

Um acht Uhr - At 8 o'clock

Gut Glück - Good luck