::A/N::

Okay, well, looks who's on a roll! /shot. The last chappy was awfully short, and kind of crap, but it WAS necessary. This is kind of the beginning to the twists. I know I've taken a long time in arriving here, please forgive me :(

Read and Review~

Gilbert POV

Vash is an ass to kick me out of the damn meeting. It's not as though I wanted to be in there to begin with, but being forced out? Not awesome.

So I decide, by myself, to linger and wait for everybody to emerge. But when five minutes have passed, and the only person to emerge is Victoire, I decide to save some face and go hit up the bar for pre-dinner beer... only to come to realize that it has been invaded by minors. Little fuckers. Obviously, the awesome me does not set bad examples, so I don't swipe beer in front of Lily and Peter. When I politely ask them why the bar is their little base of operations, they say it's for the soda. God damn them, go find a vending machine!

So when everyone begins filing out of the conference room, I'm waiting moodily, dignity thrown to the wind, for Bruder to emerge. Of course he's the first one out. He lets out a hefty sigh through his nose when he sees the welcoming committee. Oh fuck him.

"Bruder, what are you doing?"

"Sitting, West. Now don't you have little boyfriend to take care of?" I remark snidely, forgetting the reason why I wanted to see him to begin with.

Feli pops out from behind Lud like magic, his normally confused expression in place. "You have a boyfriend, Ludi?"

I snicker at the nickname, much to Lud's vexation. "Lets go, Feliciano," he rumbles, embarrassed.

Lovi explodes out next, flanked by his good friends Annoyance and Impatience. Poor Toni is hitched to the bandwagon. I don't try to get a word through to my Spanish friend. He's just lucky he's from the country of bull-fighters, because I've never seen a man with larger horns than Lovino Vargas...

The last to leave, but the third to acknowledge me, is Francis. He breezes to my side when he sees me, practically gushing invisible rainbows. I don't ask.

"Mon ami, you are looking lonely," he cries, once the twenty awkward seconds of silence have elapsed in which he wanted an inquiry and I didn't deliver.

"No shit, Franny."

"You wound me."

"Ja, ja, where's Liz?"

"Aren't you two fighting?"

"Gah, well, nein, but, fuck, gawk, GILBIRD- dammit!" I splutter, mouth refusing to correctly spew my awesome lies.

"Ohonhon," Francis snickers. "Very smooth." Gott, friends suck. "Well, she's sitting with Vash, I believe."

My heart jumps in surprise. "What? Why?"

"Ow should I know? It looked important, so I am sure you will screw it up fantastically."

"Thanks for the moral support," I grumble, standing.

"Of course, Gilbo~"

When his ridiculous hair finally wafts away, I turn my attention to the conference room, passing by any sort of "planning" stage and moving directly onto the "action" stage. Mr. Awesome you have passed Go!, feel free to collect 200 quid. For some reason, Liz is still in there, and it's time to find out why. Shoving my face into the incriminating is a talent.

The heavy, thick-framed oaken door opens without so much as a squeak from old screws binding old wood. I peep in, kind of wishing I had my awesome pet bird from when I was a child. Gilbird was such an awesome little minion...

After a moment, I establish that the room is empty. A loneliness has settled upon it, like it's missing what makes it whole: us.

I do one more sweeping glance before having no other doubts. It means Liz and Vash are in only one place: the awkward closet.

It's only the awkward closet because somebody spilled coffee all over the blue prints for this building and lost spacial conception in the process. It's twice as large as the conference room and more beautiful; its northern wall is all window, and it looks out onto Berne, even if Berne can't look in. Mirrored glass, or something. Did Liza tell me at one point? Oh... nein, I don't remember.

Either way it's Vash's favorite room, and I take care to remember that as I curl my tapered fingers around the silver doorknob, and push it ever so slightly inwards. Immediately the spell of silence is broken.

"You are certain?" Vash asks, vague interest coloring his tone. Through the crack in the door, I can see the right half of his face, and the back of Liz's chestnut head.

"Igen."

"You have thought this through?"

"Enough."

He nods, slipping something away into his pocket. "Then Auf Wiedersehen, Elizaveta."

I stumble back in shock.

"Auf Wiedersehen."

The door shuts with a soft click.

After five minutes of repetitive knocking, and an equal amount of denial, she stands before me in all her fury. The moment acts as a briefest of windows into her life, and I take full advantage of it, scoping the room for signs of what I dread most. I find them everywhere. Her suitcase is open on the quilt and half filled. What isn't being crammed into its inner-most recesses is haphazardly strewn across the bed. My eyes slide to her face and it's dead set. My heart sinks. "So that's it?"

"What are you talking about?" she growls, walking away from her door frame as if she could care less whether I come or go.

"I know you're leaving."

She doesn't even look up at the accusation. "You were hardly silent; still an intruding imbecile."

I lean against the wall, watching her muscles move beneath the paper thin shirt as she continues to collect belongings. It always amazes me how fast women unpack. "Still a bitch."

"Mature. Look, I'm busy, why don't you just leave so I can finish."

It isn't a suggestion, but a cordial demand, so I stay. "Nah, I'm good."

A book crashes into the wall next to my head. "Leave."

Instead, I bend down to pick it. "Ah, still into 'yaoi', I see." At the instigation, a perfume bottle explodes above me, raining down on my back. I return the creepy picture book to Liz's bed and grimace as the smell of artificial apples in abundance charging into my naval passages and invading my very soul.

...

I kick the apple brutally, bruising the stupid thing and sending it rolling across the faintly brown grass until the fruit disappears over the brink of the hill. On its journey, it almost runs over a daisy, but misses in the last second, probably hitting a pebble and taking a left instead, quickly vanishing. I don't bother following it. Instead I flop across the ground, scuffing my sneaker into the dusty dirt by the roots of the giant tree.

"Life's stupid," I grumble to the tree.

"Oh man up!"

Surprised, I jump to my feet, frantically scrutinizing this talking tree. I'm about to give it a mighty kick, and tell it to shut up, until I get nailed in the face with the very same apple I just booted. "OW! That hurt, stupid tree!"

"'Stupid tree'? You hit me in the head."

"What?" I whirl to see a cross looking boy glowering at me from the crest of the hill. Relieved that the tree didn't actually speak, I retort, "That doesn't even make sense! It rolled away!"

"Yeah and into my head," the strange boy says, plopping down several feet off. He has shoulder length brown hair, but he's pulled it back into a girly pony tail, leaving some runaway pieces around his pale face. His eyes are a bright sparkling green, contrasting the funny splotches of brown across his nose and cheek bones. As he settles in the grass, he adjusts the ratty green tee shirt hanging off his frame and rolls up the cuffs of his already too-short jeans.

"So... who are you?" I ask finally, when the weird boy doesn't make any move toward conversation. He's being unawesome and awkward-making.

"None of your business."

"I'm awesome! Everything's my business!"

"I'm sure that's what your mommy tells you."

I glower. "You're annoying."

"You're more annoying."

"Nuh-uh! I was here first and you invaded! That makes you more annoying."

"Yeah, well I wanted to come here first, so you're more annoying."

"Nein, I wanted to come here first!"

"Well I thought about it first!"

"I- I- I WAS HERE FIRST!"

The boy glares at me before turning around to stare at the daisy, the one I almost murdered, but didn't. His eyes linger on it a moment more, then he picks it.

"Kesesesese-"

He looks at me in mild concern, spinning the plant between two fingers. "Are you choking?"

"Wha- Nein! That's my awesome laugh! Isn't it awesome?"

"..."

"Well, you know what's unawesome? Men picking flowers! Kesesesesese!"

His eyes narrow into two identical fiery green spearheads. "Look, creepy albino guy, my mother used to say 'when something beautiful comes into your life, don't let it walk out'. So budge off."

"Flowers can't walk."

"You're an idiot."

"Nein, you're an idiot. Flowers obviously don't have feet! You need feet to walk, stupid!"

"It's meta- meter- metaphor- metaphorincnal!" the boy finally accentuates, beaming at his pronunciation of the word.

"Meta-what-incnal?" I ask.

"Meta- meta- OH WHATEVER, you're stupid."

"I am not!"

"You are so!"

"I am not!"

"Are so!"

"Poke."

"What?"

"Poke!"

"Are you air poking me?" he questions astounded, disbelief evident as the daisy lies forgotten.

"Ja. Whatcha gonna do about it, huh?"

He regards me for a moment, adding up luck, chance, and dividing by strength. Then he stands, walks the four feet between us and shoves me into the grass. "Poke you."

I gasp dramatically. "That was a shove!"

"Yup, whatcha gonna do about it?" he grins.

I contemplate this mystery boy for a minute, astounded, as only a child can be, at the marks he's already made on my life: the apple juice on my forehead, the grass in my hair. Finally: "My name's Gilbert."

"I'm Eli." He holds out a little hand and pulls me to my feet.

"Awesome."

"Igen."

"What kind of language is that?"

"It's Hungarian, stupid."

"Oh. I'm German."

"You're not Albino?"

"That's not a type of person."

He looks mildly put out. "Well, it is now."

"Awesome."

"Is that all you say?"

I beam. "Well, it is now."

Eli laughs softly. "You know, Gilbert, you and your weird eyes are okay."

I feel my face heat up. "Ja, well, you're eyes are girly, Eli."

THWACK.

"Quit throwing apples!" I bellow, clinging to my bleeding nose, once again sprawled in the grass.

...

Little Eli was lucky. Flowers can't walk out of your life, but people can, and my heart is slowly failing as Liz throws the last of her things into the duffel, officially wiping herself from the room. She wipes her hands on the legs of her jeans in finality, wrenching the canvas bag off the bed. I want her to turn and look at me. I want her to look at me. She does finally, seeming like she's surprised at my presence. Is she honestly surprised I'm still here with her?

"Why?" The words are hoarser than I intended. They sound weak.

"Why what?"

"Why are you leaving?"

"I need to go."

"Nein, you don't. You can stay here-"

"I can, but I don't want to."

I flinch. "Where?"

"This won't stop me from going."

"Was?"

"Nothing you say will make a difference. It never does."

I snarl, "This is fucked up! You're fucked up!"

"This is my choice. Leave well enough alone."

"Nein! This-"

"Is my choice!" she reiterates, fists clenching.

I close my mouth sharply at the sight of her shining eyes. "Liz-"

"Nem."

"Liz-" Please Liz. Please look at me and understand.

"I need to go now, or I'll miss my train."

"Say my name."

"What?"

"Say my name. You haven't said it once. Say it." For me. "And take this." My body begins pulling the strings, forcing my brain to be quiet, and it reaches over my head and removes my iron cross. I watch my hands drop it over her neck before she can object.

She looks down, taking in this new aspect of her appearance, before visibly cringing away from it. "I have to go now, Prussia."

I don't let go of the chain, frozen by her eyes, her beautiful green spearheads. I wait for her to pull away, to hurt me, to leave, but she doesn't. She simply watches me, and before I know it, my body's acting on its own again.

When our lips meet... it's like everything I ever thought it would be with her. Rough, angry, sad, untamed, and fucking passionate. It's the worst feeling as her teeth dig into my bottom lip, to know that this is more than some skank at the bar. This is Elizaveta, and she's dangerous. My fingers dig into her sculpted hip bones because I'm going to fucking hold her here for the rest of our lives. Her throat loses a little breathy noise, and my tongue takes use of the high ground. She surrenders, a half-hearted one when her fingers yank on my hair. My body is screaming that this is what it needs, but eventually, the kiss ends, and I pull away to breathe, wishing I didn't have to. I know she's going to leave now. She'll vanish, and brand another painful memory between us.

"I have to go."

It's final, and I nod my head, feeling awfully like a robot, like a cold, dead, stupid robot who can't be smart when it matters. "Ja. Ja. Have fun." It's snide.

She nods too, like she's trying to convince herself as much as me, absently running a hand through her flustered hair. "Goodbye."

"Bye."

My eyes follow her to the doorway, each step marking a beat of my failing heart. Turn around Lizzie. Please Lizzie, just turn around. Come back to me. Please come back to me. "Ich-!"

And then my beauty walks out the door.

"Good riddance!" I yell to the empty room after a few frozen minutes. Good fucking riddance.

It's raining on more than one face, as identical drops fall in the hallway, but I only feel my own pain as I sink to the floor and wish I could take everything back.

::A/N::

Translations:
Auf Wiedersehen (German) = Goodbye
Ich- (German) = I-

Well, I should really be getting to studying ^^; Hope everyone enjoys this~ Let the angst begin.

R&R kudasai~ I've been feeling a little uncertain again, about staying in character, keeping everything flowing, and building enough emotion. Feedback would be appreciated~~