Once this story's finished, Chapter 23, 24, and 25 are going through some heavy editing.

I owe all of you an apology. The last few chapters have seemed chaotic, and off track from my original storyline to this story. Yes, it's a huge mess ._.;

I just want to let you all know that please bear with this chapter. Please, for my sake. Because the next chapters will be back on track. I majorly promiiiseeee~!

Thank you!

Matthew had a hard time sleeping. His dreams were jagged, twisted, sometimes swirling into nightmares he would wake up from to feel his clothing drenched in sweat. He couldn't remember what he dreamt about, but each time he woke up, he would lie in his bed for a long time, finding it harder and harder to drift back.

It was around eleven in the evening when Matthew woke up, his mouth dry and feeling incredibly thirsty. Rubbing his eyes he blearily looked over at his bedside clock and figured he had been asleep for about four hours. All he did lately was eat, sleep, and go to work. He didn't even have enough spirit in him to pull out his digital SLR camera, which had been a Christmas present from his parents, and shoot some pictures like he had yearned to do over the summer all school year.

He got out of his bed and walked downstairs, reaching above the sink and pulling out a glass. He was about to fill a glass up with water when the phone rang. Effectively scaring the wits out of him, Matthew jumped, accidentally smashing the glass against the counter top. He stared at the shards of glass in disdain before reaching over toward the phone. He looked at the caller ID, and didn't recognize the number. It looked like a cell phone number, and Matthew figured it was probably Alfred calling from a friend's phone, or a friend of Alfred's. Figures, Alfred would be mad at him for staying out late, when he wasn't even home half the time either.

"Hello?" He said into the phone as he began cleaning up the glass. There was no answer, so again he called, "Hello?"

"Matthew."

Matthew's hand slipped on a shard of glass as the familiar voice spoke to him. He stared ahead at the wall and swallowed thickly before answering. "Gilbert?"

"Matthew. Your fucking door's locked."

Matthew pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. Then he slowly brought it back to his ear. "I…what…are you outside my house?"

"Woo-hoo Captain Obvious, pat yourself on the back. Now can you come and unlock this door before I fucking kick it down?" Gilbert sounded more irritated by the minute.

"I..." Matthew didn't know what to say. He was sure this was all a dream.

"Matthew, I swear I am so close to killing you." Gilbert's voice was through and through a threat.

"Ah! Okay, okay which door?" Matthew said quickly, his heartbeat thudding loudly.

"The front door."

Matthew paused for a moment, and then took a deep breath, feeling nervous, "Alright…hold on…"

Gilbert stood outside the house, wondering what he was going to say exactly. He was holding Elizaveta's phone up to his ear and he resisted the urge to rip off the little charms she liked to put on it. About half a minute later, he heard the lock slide and the door opened to reveal a disheveled Matthew who was wearing red pajama pants and a white t-shirt. His hair was messy, leading Gilbert to believe he had been sleeping before.

Both spent a moment just staring at each other, and then Matthew hoarsely asked, "What are you doing here?"

Gilbert pulled the phone away from his ear and resisted the urge to shake Matthew. "What do you mean what am I doing here?" He said disbelievingly, "How about I ask you why you haven't been answering my calls?"

Matthew felt his face grow pale, "I—"

But he stopped when he noticed the look on Gilbert's face. It had changed from absolute fury to a mix between disgust and horror.

"Dude, your hand's bleeding."

Matthew looked down at his left hand and saw that indeed, small trails of blood were slowly flowing down to his fingertips. Turning his hand over, he saw that on his palm was a large gash that had to be nearly two inches long.

"Oh…" He said in surprise, covering his hand with his right, and wincing when he felt the throbbing. "Ow."

"Oh? How can you not notice your fucking hand was practically vomiting blood?" Gilbert looked like he wanted to hit his head off of a wall.

"I…I just…you called and I was surprised…" Matthew said as he hastily looked around for something to cover his hand with. He felt a little sick when the blood began pooling on his other hand.

Gilbert gave him an annoyed looked before he sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. "Here." And before Matthew could protest, Gilbert pulled off his t-shirt and threw it at him. "Wrap this around your hand."

"Ah-!" The t-shirt hit Matthew in his face and he quickly pulled it away. It smelled really good…he resisted the urge to take another whiff of it. And then his eyes traveled over to Gilbert, standing only in a pair of jeans with no t-shirt on…

Matthew looked down to hide his blush and pressed the shirt onto his hand.

"Come on." Gilbert said as he invited himself into the house, "We need to wash it off."

Matthew bit his lip and followed Gilbert into the bathroom without protesting. Being so close to him, he wanted to wrap his arms around Gilbert and kiss him. But as he stood in front of the sink, watching the blood wash away down the drain, he felt a heavy doubt on his shoulders. A huge 'What if?'

Matthew dried off his hand, Gilbert gently took it by the wrist and examined it studiously, causing Matthew's face to grow red. After a moment of him looking at it with a frown on his face, Gilbert let go of his hand. "It doesn't look like you'll need stitches…"

"Oh…okay…thanks…" Matthew said quietly and he dabbed his palm again as it began bleeding a second time.

But Gilbert didn't hesitate. He looked Matthew directly in his eyes, daring him. "Why are you acting like this?"

Matthew looked away. It was now or never. He had to say it.

"I…a few days ago when I was at your house…I saw you with a girl…"

There was a loud groan and Matthew looked up in time to see Gilbert hit his head off of the black tile on the bathroom wall not once, not twice, but three times. Thud. Thud. Thud.

"I can't believe it…I can't believe it…" Gilbert couldn't help it and a humorless laugh escaped his mouth. "I owe Eliza ten fucking dollars…"

Matthew wondered if he had heard right. "Ah…who…?"

Gilbert turned to him. "Shortie, listen to me. For starters, that girl that you saw me with is Elizaveta Héderváry. A friend. Friend. F-R-I-E-N-D. And we're definitely not dating. She's a lesbian."

Matthew stood very still for a moment, practically shell-shocked. "Oh…" He said quietly as it all sank in, "OH."

"Exactly. And even if I were cheating on you, I'd be a lot better at hiding it." Gilbert said bluntly.

"Oh, thanks for reassuring me!" Matthew yelped, the whole weight of the situation falling on his shoulders. Just…just…how embarrassing!

"You look like you want to die…" Gilbert observed with an interested look on his face.

"I do want to die…" Matthew replied weakly.

Gilbert's frown turned into a small smile before he reached over to the bathroom mirror and opened it. "We should probably wrap your hand up. Is there any plaster aid in here?"

Matthew nodded and sat on the sink counter as Gilbert pulled out some gauze. He didn't know what he felt. Relief, or just completely mortified.

Gilbert grabbed Matthew's hand again and began firmly wrapping it in the bandage.

"…you're good at this…" Matthew commented and Gilbert barked out a laugh.

"Yeah, when Ludwig and I were younger, we'd always come home with more cuts and bruises than my parents could count. Sometimes my mom would have to wrap something and after a while I kind of learned it on my own from watching her do it so much."

Matthew laughed quietly with him then lapsed into another silence, avoiding Gilbert's gaze. Why was he such an idiot? Of course Gilbert wouldn't be cheating on him just because he was talking to another person.

But…

He hadn't realized Gilbert was done wrapping his hand until he spoke.

"Don't you trust me?"

"What?" Matthew looked up into those red eyes that looked frustrated as ever.

"Well, it's just…" Gilbert paused, and rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, "You see me with a girl once and you think that I'm…cheating on you? Why is that all it takes?"

"No, I…" Matthew swallowed, not sure of what to say, "It's…it's my fault. I…when I saw you hug her, I realized that…"

You've never hugged me. Matthew couldn't say the last words. They sounded too stupid, too foolish. But when he saw him with that girl, how happy and open they had been toward each other, it made something in Matthew a little sad, and maybe a bit jealous. And not only that, but he knew that because of his…

Gilbert seemed to realize what Matthew was getting at. He looked incredulous underneath his smirk.

"Jesus. I hug someone and that's all it takes for you to run away?"

Matthew blushed, "No! I—"

"No, nothing!" Gilbert interrupted him, "You thought I was cheating on you because I hugged someone? Matthew, what planet do you live on? That's…that's beyond overreacting!" Suddenly Gilbert's eyes lit up in realization, and his voice became serious. "Wait. This whole thing that happened…is it because of your nervous disorder?"

Matthew resisted the urge to clench his fists. Pushing past Gilbert, he opened the bathroom door and walked out into the kitchen ignoring Gilbert as he called after him. He began cleaning up the glass again on the counter, being extra careful not to cut himself again.

"Hey, come on. Why are you angry now?" Gilbert asked as he walked into the kitchen right behind Matthew.

"No reason." Matthew tried to say as casually as possible, but the venom in his voice was still present.

"Matthew, I know that you're pissed—"

"And maybe I am!" Matthew snapped at Gilbert, turning to face him. "Maybe I am pissed off that everyone thinks I'm different just because I have a 'disorder'!" Matthew said the last word with as much hate that he could muster. "Maybe I am pissed off everyone treats me differently because they think something's wrong with me! Oh, so I have a disorder. What, is that my excuse now?"

Gilbert looked like he had just been slapped across the face. "No, that's not…"

Matthew looked away, gathered up the last pieces of the glass, threw them away, then quickly walked pass Gilbert.

"Matthew, wait…" Gilbert hurried up behind him and grabbed his hand.

"Let go of me!" He yelled as he tried to wrench his arm away from his grasp. "Just let go!" At the last two words, Matthew lifted up his hand and slammed his fist against Gilbert's chest as hard as he could. Since it was his left hand, the power wasn't as strong, and he winced as his cut began to throb from the contact, but he knew it must have hurt since Gilbert grimaced. Matthew's eyes grew wide and he drew his hand away like it was one fire. What had he just done?

"I…I'm so sorry…I…" Matthew's breathing grew faster and he tried to find a way to escape. He felt like his world was crashing down, and there was no way that he could stop it from happening.

But as he felt himself become embraced by a pair of strong arms, he stiffened up, his breath catching.

"No…" Gilbert said into his hair, "I'm sorry."

It was so warm…

Matthew threw his arms around Gilbert and held onto him like it was his lifeline.

"You should come over to visit Eliza tomorrow. Trust me, she's not a bad person, and she would love you."

Matthew pouted and rested his head against Gilbert's shoulder as he looked up at the sky. After the two of them had broken apart from the hug, Gilbert had told him he couldn't stay long since he had already come there at such a late time at night. Both were reluctant to say goodbye, and they finally agreed to sit on the front porch steps for a few more minutes before he left. "You're saying that like I'm afraid of her."

"Maybe I am." Gilbert replied with a smirk on his face. He was wearing a black t-shirt that had 'Champion' written across the front of it in blue letters. Since the t-shirt he had given Matthew to cover his hand with looked like he had murdered someone (Gilbert's words, not Matthew's) they had gone upstairs, stashed the t-shirt away, and taken another one of Alfred's. Matthew figured that at this rate, his brother was going to start noticing the missing t-shirts

Matthew nudged Gilbert with his elbow. "I bet she's nicer than you are." There was a pause where the both of them just stared ahead in silence, enjoying each other's company. Then Matthew leaned in closer and wrapped his arms around Gilbert's waist. "Do you think I'm crazy?" Matthew quietly asked.

"I don't know. You're dating me, aren't you?" Gilbert calmly replied back, as he began rubbing his hand up and down Matthew's back.

Matthew looked up at Gilbert with a frown and affectionately flicked his nose. "Shut up. You know that's not what I meant."

Gilbert gave a small smile. "You're a lot of trouble."

Matthew huffed. "So are you."

"Well, then. Everything just works out in the end, doesn't it?" Gilbert said as he reached forward and squeezed Matthew's cheek, stretching it.

"Ah-!" Matthew slapped Gilbert's hand away. "Okay, no! Don't do that! What are you, five?"

"Oh, come on. You're cute when you blush." Gilbert laughed and tried to pinch Matthew's cheeks again. Matthew wrestled in Gilbert's grasp, trying to keep his face straight, but failing miserably, and having a smile that could rival the happiest person on earth.

And at the moment, he felt that he was that happiest person.

When it came time for Gilbert to leave, he leaned in and whispered into Matthew's ear before he kissed him.

"Have more confidence in yourself and the people around you for once."

Matthew knew that Gilbert was right. If he ever wanted to get over being so nervous, he had to get more confident that every time something went wrong, it wasn't the end of the world.

Matthew's eyes opened and he looked around his bedroom. It was about five in the morning, judging from how the sky was slowly getting lighter. He shivered, remembering he had opened a window earlier since it had gotten so hot in his room. In the dark and without any glasses, Matthew walked over to his dresser and felt around until his hands came in contact with a hoodie. He put it on and crawled back into bed.

It wasn't until the next time that he had woken up did he realize he was wearing Gilbert's hoodie.

Being with Gilbert was different. The way he made him feel, it wasn't like anything he had ever experienced.

Don't really have anything to say but thank you everyone for reading this story. Thank you all. Each one of you I cherish dearly in my heart.

I will try my best for each and every one of you!

And thank you, thank you, thank you!