Cold Potato, Passing Out:

Cheya's POV: (December 19th) 11:00 AM

Ah. Life could never be so miserable and comforting. Right now I was glued to my bed. My lap top was propped on top of a fountain of pillows. I was spending, or rather, wasting my time watching a montage of vines and famous youtubers. Anything that distracted my mind from the insane amount of junk food that I was currently stuffing into my mouth. I was beyond full. But sometimes you just got to down that entire bag of cheetos or smear that extra glob of whip cream on top of your pancakes. Because lets be honest here. If your life is empty like mine, then your best and only option is to resort to gluttony. Hey. We can't all be happy. But at least we can satisfy our stomachs.

Papa rapped his knuckles against my bedroom door. "Chome in," I huffed, raising my tea mug full of Mountain Dew to help wash down the salty, but every glorious taste of my cheese puffs. Mon Dieu. I was such a mess. Papa must have thought so too. He walked into my room and let out the inevitable tsking sound. He clearly didn't approve of my miserable looking state.

Papa gave me a quick once over. His eyes darted between my lady bug onsie, to my hair, which was held up in a nappy, messy bun, to my laundry basket, which was brimming to the top with dirty clothes, and finally to the pile of chip bags, crackers, and cookie boxes that were stacked at the foot of my bed. Papa sat beside me on the bed. His eyebrows furrowed in disgust. He now understood why I was going to the grocery store so often. You see, Papa doesn't approve of junk food. He always makes time in his day to prepare whole and hearty meals. But to me, nothing says whole and hearty like a life time of sugar and unhealthy blood pressure spikes.

"So that's where you've been off to!" Papa scoffed. He reached for a box of oatmeal cookies.

I leapt out of my cradled position and spread out my arms. I would protect my food stash at all costs. "Hands off," I growled. I wasn't going to let him trash the only thing that gave me solace in this time of misery.

Papa sighed. He raised both hands in surrender. "Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "But don't come crying to me when you get high blood pressure."

I laughed. "HA! You sound just like..." I trailed off. "You sound just like..." I couldn't finish my sentence. If I did I would most likely break down into tears. I swallowed a huge lump in my throat.

Papa placed a hand over my head. He shed me with a weak smile. "Shhh," he chided. "My poor darling little girl. Heart broken and all alone."

"Hey!" I snapped. "I'm not completely friendless!"

"Oh really now?" Papa mused. "How come I haven't seen any of them lately?"

The door bell rang. I smirked. "Well, would you look at that! Visitors!"

Papa gave me a stern look. He stood up from the bed. "You didn't tell me that you were inviting people over," he lectured. I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Most of the time he encourages me to bring people over. But only if I give him a heads up before hand. God forbid that I deprive him from the opportunity to look his best in front our guests. Tragic, I know.

"They called ten minutes ago. How was I supposed to know?" I grumbled.

Papa tutted a snide remark under his breath. He walked over to the bedroom door and placed a hand on the wooden frame.

Papa shed me with one last pitiful look. Ouch. I know that I look like shit. But he could at least try to disguise the obviousness of his 'merde' face from me. Get it, haha? His face crinkled up so much that you would think that he had just smelled something real nasty. Man. Arthur was right. Tumblr truly was poisoning my brain...Oh my. This needed to stop. I couldn't stop thinking about him.

And don't even get me started about Gilbert. The boy's phone had been shut off for days. My chances to apologize to him were cut short.

I shook my head. The grimace on my face shifted into a pouting frown. I didn't want to make Papa worry too much about me. He's been real nice the past few days. It was time to pull myself together and take charge of things.

Papa's voice chorused in the upstairs hallway. "We're cleaning your room later."

I'll take charge of everything except for that, thank you very much.

I groaned. "Fine. Just get the door will you?" Papa left without another word. I was quick to hide my treats after that. The cookies went under the wooden frame of my bed. The crackers went in the drawer that I kept my school supplies in. And as for my chips? I hid those under my pillows. There were basically full of air anyways. I wouldn't experience too much loss if I crushed them by accident.

A loud shriek echoed from downstairs. I cocked my head to the side. Lovina? What was she doing here? Oh. That's right. Antonio doesn't like to go anywhere without Lovina now. He wanted to show off his precious Lovi to the entire world. I repeat. The Spaniard was a giant dork. A lovable one. But still a dork nonetheless. I stepped out of my room and placed a hand on the staircase's railing. I grinned and looked down into the front foyer. An awkward, yet thoroughly amusing scene played right before my very eyes.

Bella and Antonio stood in the coat room. Their eyes were wide as they looked back and forth between Papa and Lovina. They were both confused as to why she was shrieking. I was also confused. I mean, I know that Papa can come off as a bit of a creep. But he only teased. He never actually meant any of of it. Ok. Maybe he meant some of it. Ugh. You know what I mean.

"THE FUCK?! YOU LIVE HERE?!"

As usual, Lovina's vulgarity went over everyone's heads.

"Ohonhonhon! Lovina, mon chere! It's been so long! My, my, you've grown into such a beautiful young woman!"

Papa looked at Bella and Antonio for back up. They were both too stunned to add anything to the conversation. Papa turned back to Lovina. The blush on her face was evident.

"How is dear little Feliciana doing~?"

I took this time to gracelessly cut into the conversation.

"Papa?" I spluttered, slowly making my way downstairs. I almost tripped over the last step while doing so. "You and Lovina know each other?"

Lovina didn't look at Papa when she spoke. Something must have been really interesting about her shoes. She spoke in a gruff voice. "Feliciana's doing well, thanks for asking."

Lovina's brows furrowed together. The pieces clicked together in her head and she just about exploded. "HOLD UP A MINUTE! DID YOU JUST SAY PAPA?!"

"Oui," Papa beamed, answering my question and ignoring the Italian's bulging eyes. "Lovina is Romulus' granddaughter. I used to give her and her twin sister cooking lessons when they were younger."

Ah. That explains some things. I remember how fondly old Romulus used to speak of his twin granddaughters. In fact, Papa was the one who had written them a recommendation letter. Getting his granddaughters into a good cooking school was everything that Romulus prayed for. It never crossed my mind that that program was at Hetalia University.

I giggled. "Small world, huh?" I gestured to Papa, who took a courteous, girlish bow in response.

"Lovina, this is my Papa. Most people call him Francis."

"Monsieur Francis," Papa corrected with a sly smile.

I rolled my eyes. "You don't have to call him that. He's only teasing."

Papa pouted. "Le boo. You always ruin my fun."

Lovina's mouth gaped open in shock. "It all makes sense now."

"What makes sense?" I asked. Papa draped an arm around my shoulder. We were both laughing at this point.

"The only two wine bastards that I've ever met are related to each other," Lovina concluded with a proud looking huff.

"Anyways," I interrupted. I had a hard time stifling my laughter. Papa winked at Lovina.

Lovina's face grew redder and redder by the second. Good thing Antonio was there to pat her on the back. Lovina coughed and spluttered. Choking on her own spit would be a tragic way to go.

"Why don't I meet you guys in the basement?" I suggested. "I still have to get dressed."

"Alright~!" Antonio beamed. He took off Lovina's coat and hung it up in the front closet. "By the way, Cheya. You should get some more sleep. You look really tired." I recoiled at this comment. Papa backtracked into the kitchen. He sensed the imminent danger lurking ahead. Sheltering himself from the threat of a young woman's rage, correction, three young women's rage was his top priority. Unfortunately, Antonio was too oblivious to realize his mistake.

The Spaniard had much to learn. It was more of a hands on type of lesson.

SLAP! Antonio's head flailed to the left, courtesy of Bella's hand.

PUNCH! Antonio's head flailed to the right, courtesy of Lovina's fist.

"JUST BECAUSE SHE'S NOT WEARING MAKE UP, IT DOESN'T MEAN THAT SHE'S TIRED!" Bella raged.

"YEAH! DO YOU SEE ANY BAGS UNDER HER EYES?" Lovina pointed a clawed finger at my face.

Antonio wiped a tear from the corner of his left eye. Lovina had hit him much harder than Bella.

Well this was odd. I didn't expect Bella and Lovina to get along so well. Once upon a time, even if the Belgian refused to admit this, she and Antonio used to have flings together. These flings typically occurred whenever they were drunk. But, judging by the devilish smirks that Lovina and Bella wore on their faces, it was clear to me that they held each other in high regard. They must have bonded over cussing out Antonio for his stupidity.

Antonio shrunk under all three of our glares. "I'll just let myself into the basement."

"GOOD IDEA," all three of us snarled.

Antonio sulked. He bowed his head and walked in the direction of the basement. Three set of eyes watched his every move.

Bella grabbed my elbow. I gasped and spluttered as she towed me in the direction of the staircase. "You have five minutes tops," She drilled.

"Take any longer and I'll drag you downstairs myself."

"Oui Bella," I grumbled in agreement like the good little mindless minion that I was.

I walked down into the basement. Screams echoed off of the walls. I wasn't all that surprised. Bella and Lovina were shouting at Antonio. Their fists waved about. Any insult that came to mind was used against the surrendering Spaniard. "IDIOTA! WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?! WAY TO KILL HER CONFIDENCE! NOW WE'LL NEVER GET HER TO LEAVE THE HOUSE!"

"LOVINA'S RIGHT! I MEAN, I KNOW THAT YOU WERE ALREADY A DUMBASS, ANTONIO. BUT REALLY?! DO I NEED TO SPELL OUT TO YOU HOW DUMB THAT COMMENT WAS?" Bella raked a frustrated hand through her hair.

"DON'T BOTHER," Lovina huffed. "IT'S BEST NOT TO CONFUSE THE ONLY THREE BRAIN CELLS THAT HE HAS."

"I SAID SORRY! WHAT MORE DO YOU WOMEN WANT? Antonio wailed.

I paused at the foot of the stairs. Antonio was sitting by himself on the couch. The Belgian and Italian duo towered over his slumped figure.

It looked like they were lecturing a small child.

I cleared my throat. Bella and Lovina shifted their glares to me. I took a few steps back. "Hi guys, hope you're doing well. Just letting you know that the entire fucking neighbor hood can hear you."

Bella ignored my sarcasm. She opted to take a cheap jab at my outfit. "Really?" she seethed. "Sweats? You literally just swapped one set of pajamas for the other."

I shrugged. "Back off. I'm comfy." I sat down on the couch next to Antonio. The Spaniard looked a bit relieved over the fact. We could now share Bella and Lovina's angry limelight together. Oh joy.

Bella scoffed. "Whatever." She began to pace in front of the couch.

Lovina snorted. Antonio purred and attempted to coax her into sitting on his lap. Lovina compromised by sitting next to him on the couch. She scowled and grumbled curses under her breath when he draped an arm around her shoulders. I scuttled over to the far end of the couch. Typically, I wasn't one to get jealous over another person's love affair. But I could only stand so much of Antonio's sobless whimpers. Don't know what I'm talking about? If Antonio doesn't receive enough attention, especially from a girl, he pouts. He pleads for more contact, which usually results in the other person finding themselves in a very compromising cuddling position.

Bella sniffed indignantly. "So, you must know why we're here?"

I didn't hesitate to return Bella's sarcasm. "Hmmm, I'm guessing that it has something to do with Gilbert?"

"Huh," Bella remarked. "I'm amazed that you can still function with all that sugar and caffeine in your body."

"Says the girl who drinks Red Bull infused Vodka every weekend," I retorted, crossing my arms.

"Oi!" Lovina snapped. She fruitlessly attempted to free herself from Antonio's arms. The Spaniard chuckled and hugged her even tighter than before. He had Lovina's face smushed again his collar bone. When she spoke all we heard were muffled grumbles. "Bitches are friends, not foes. Does the girl code not mean anything to you sluts?"

Bella smiled at Lovina. "Where have you been all my life?"

Lovina smirked back. "I think the better question is why haven't we met before?"

"Hey, hello," I waved around my hand. "Still here."

Bella diverted her attention back to me. "If you don't watch your tone, Lovina won't stop me from strangling you."

"You're right, I won't. Actually, I wouldn't mind seeing that." Antonio tsked at Lovina, whose grin only got wider at his chastising.

"Mon Dieu. Can we get to the point already?" I whined.

Bella rolled her eyes and huffed. "Lovina invited me to a movie night that you guys are having." Her brows furrowed in thought. "Hmmmm, what was that girl's name again?"

Bella looked at Lovina for help. Lovina was too busy swallowing a face full of Antonio's sweater.

I rolled my eyes. "Her name's Maddie."

It boggled my mind how every one seemed to forget about the Canadian.

Bella snapped her fingers together. "Yes! That's it! For some reason her name always slips my mind."

Bella resumed with her pacing. "Anyways, after we're done here, we'll be paying Gilbert a visit. And whether he likes it or not, he will also be going to this movie night."

"Fuck to the no," Lovina muttered to herself. "I'm not setting one foot in that potato's perverted lair."

I picked at my finger nails. I was already bored with this conversation. "Your point?"

"My point is that you're going to have to talk to him."

"Bella, I've tried. He doesn't want to speak to me."

"Try harder."

I sighed. There was no arguing with this girl. I agreed for the sake of placating her stubbornness. "Fine," I relented.

Another disturbing thought crossed my mind. "You do realize that Arthur's also going to be there..."

"WHAT?!" Bella, Lovina, and Antonio all spluttered in harmony.

I grimaced sheepishly under their glares. "Maddie and Arthur are cousins; did I not mention that?"

"NO! YOU MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT!" Bella fumed.

Lovina cackled. "FUCK! IS YOUR LIFE EVER MESSED UP!"

Antonio too attempted to stifle his laughter. He wasn't very successful in doing so. Bella's anger had lessened by a considerable amount. She shed me with a pitiful look. Jeez. What was up with people today? Did I really look that pathetic?

I sighed. "Oh Lovina. Only you would take pleasure from my pain."

Lovina beamed. "Damn straight, you crazy bitch!"

I smiled to hold back my tears. I would have to be more than a crazy bitch to deal with my lunatic group of friends. Friends that I was nonetheless very grateful to have.


Gilbert's POV: (December 19th, 11: 45 AM)

For the first time in a week, Gilbert let himself sleep in. His Opa had taken away the keys to the truck. Apparently it wasn't acceptable to use up an entire tank of gas in one day. It didn't help that Gilbert refused to tell him where he went. And thus, Gilbert was banned from using the truck for the rest of the break. It's not like he would have been able to give his Opa a clear answer anyways. Gilbert didn't pay attention to his surroundings. He simply drove around town. He didn't know where he was going. But rather, he just knew that he was going. He visited places that let himself indulge in the tranquility of nothingness. Places that had no meaning and no memories to look back on. For an entire day, Gilbert would erase his worries. He became a blank state. He let his mind fill up with new, pointless adventures. Adventures that didn't require much deliberation on his part.

Times were so much easier when he was younger. He could remember the times where he would venture all around town, terrorizing those who came across his path. He never got bored from these adventures. He had three crazy friends to help him discover the wonders and funs of the world. Of course, there were times where he would grow lonely. But in his heart, Gilbert knew that it was his depression that amplified these feelings of helplessness. During these slumps, he found it much easier to write down his feelings. He already had a journal to keep track of his daily adventures. Creating a blog was just another way to express himself. It was easier this way. To control himself, that is. Writing everything down had a soothing effect. It calmed him. He didn't feel the need to tell anyone about how he was feeling. There was no need.

There was one person in his life, however, who had an uncanny ability to pick up on the hints of his depression. One look at him was all it took for her. Behind the cockiness of his smile, she spotted the lurking feelings of hurt, desperation, and resentment. Resentment that was mostly directed at himself. His attempts to collect himself into the person that he would never become was pathetic. Perhaps even pitiful.

Cheya had never pitied him. She gave him company in the times where he needed it most. Sure. Gilbert had always been a popular guy. He was constantly surrounded by people who looked up to him. But it was the simple, raw appreciation for his true self and not the loud mouthed boy that everybody knew and aspired to be after, that made Cheya stand out from the rest. Gilbert was lonely because people overlooked his true character. They simply saw him as the school's prankster extraordinaire.

Cheya didn't see him like this. She saw him as someone who was looking to connect with himself. His entire being had been consumed by the negative light that he despairingly cast onto himself. Gilbert teased and pranked because he wanted to be something. But being something, in his eyes, had never meant attention. It meant forming real, organic relationships and openly communicating one's own feelings, no matter how weird or personal that they were. Gilbert liked to talk. But he absolutely despised the superficiality of small talk. He liked passion. He strived for meaning and openness in a relationship. He wanted someone who could just sit there with him. No words needed to be exchanged. All they had to do was bask in the silent communication of familiarity and comfort.

And that's exactly what they did. Whenever Gilbert lapsed into his depression, Cheya visited him. They would simply sit in his room. Speaking wasn't necessary. They let their body language speak for itself. They would sit there for hours, watching movies, and if Gilbert was up for it, trolling on Omegle. If Cheya was feeling generous, she would even let him play with her hair. They thought nothing of these moments. It was just two friends hanging out and enjoying each other's company. But after years of being together, something snapped inside of Gilbert. His feelings for her had blossomed into something truly frightening. He loved her. And she loved him. Except her type of love wasn't the one that he had secretly been hoping for all along.

But loving Cheya was not the problem at hand. It was her betrayal of his trust that had brought Gilbert to his knees. Her betrayal had winded him. He could still picture the moment so vividly. His happiness had been shattered into countless, near unsalvageable pieces. He and Cheya had shared a connection so strong that when it broke, Gilbert felt alienated. He felt alienated from himself and from all others. He was helpless and hurt by the world that he had never trusted. The thought of Cheya moving on and leaving him had always lurked in the back of his mind. And now, his greatest fears had come true. Cheya had left him. He had been replaced by a man that she had only known for a short period of time. Just the thought of this was devastating.

They were supposed to tell each other everything. But Cheya had broken that bond the minute that she decided to turn her back on him. She flouted about in her own little world and didn't care about the effect that this would have on him. Gilbert grimaced. A small part of him knew that he was being selfish. Cheya had every right to date other people. She was in no means obligated to reciprocate his feelings. But, as his friend, she was in fact obligated to tell him about something as significant as a significant other. Hence, the significant part. Gilbert didn't care about the risks that she spoke of. If she really wanted to tell him, then she would have done so in a heart beat. Rules had never bound her down before. So why now?

Uncertainty was what had made Gilbert so furious in the first place. Cheya had distanced herself from him. And even if he Gilbert could push himself to forgive her, he wouldn't know where to start. She wasn't the same anymore. She had grown on her own. So much so, that Gilbert wasn't even sure if he knew her anymore. He was scared, bitter, and alone. He may have come to terms with what had happened. But no amount of time could ever erase the hurt that he felt from that night.

Muffled barking could be heard. This was followed by the scratching of claws against the wood of his bedroom door. Gilbert groaned and pulled the covers over his head. It must have been close to noon. Ludwig typically took Hans for a walk at this time. Unfortunately, his tight butthole of a brother was sick with the flu. Hans had no other choice but to pester Gilbert with his bladder troubles.

BORK! SCRATCH! SCRATCH!

Gilbert waited. He knew that Hans would eventually be able to paw his way into the room. He didn't leave his door completely shut. Gilbert left it open by a slight crack. Just for moments like this. He wanted to see his fatass of a dog attempt to squeeze himself through the door. Gilbert poked his head above the covers. He grinned. Hans poked his massive bear-like head through the door. "Go on," Gilbert teased. "You know what you have to do."

Hans sniffed and pawed at the door, whimpering all the way. Gilbert scoffed. "Don't play dumb with me, Hans. This is your solo mission kesese." Hans took this cue as an excuse to ram straight into the door. The canine barged into the room. Gilbert gulped. Hans was giving him 'the look.' The look that meant that he was about to leap on the bed and tackle him with a crushing hug. Gilbert didn't have much time to flee. Hans let out a doggy warrior cry. The canine leapt forward and pounced on Gilbert's chest. All air escaped from the albino's lungs.

Gilbert gasped. "FUCK!" he yelped. "What has Opa been feeding you?" Hans fondly settled himself on top of Gilbert's wheezing chest. The albino chuckled in response.

The canine tucked his head under Gilbert's chin and whimpered. The albino was quick to relent. "Well, when you put it like that, I suppose that the awesome me can take you for a walk."

Hans growled at nipped at Gilbert's hand. He implored for the albino to continue scratching the 'special spot' behind his ear.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Sucking up to me because West isn't here to baby you? For shame, Hans," he scolded. "For shame."

DING DONG!

BORK! BORK!

Hans forgot that he was lying atop of Gilbert's chest. The canine stood up. Gilbert winced. Hans raced off to go and bark at whoever was at the front door. It was a good thing that Gilbert had a blanket to protect himself from the wrath of Hans' claws. Otherwise his chest would look just like Antonio's face after one of Lovina's temper tantrums.

"Silly dog," Gilbert mused.

The albino climbed out of bed. He slipped on a white cotton t-shirt and a pair of black sweat pants. He didn't have the motivation to put any effort into his appearance.

BORK! BORK!

"HANS! STOP BARKING. YOU'RE GOING TO WAKE UP WEST!" Gilbert snapped.

"IT'S A LITTLE TOO LATE FOR THAT, YOU DUMMKOPF," Ludwig croaked back.

Gilbert grabbed Hans by the collar and pulled him out of the way. He opened the front door. Standing there was an irritated looking Bella and a fearful looking Antonio.

SLAM!

Gilbert shut the door. He turned on his heels and headed off into the kitchen. The doorbell rang several times after that. Hans, of course, went mad at the very sound of it.

BORK! BORK!

Grumbling, Gilbert padded over to the front door once more. Although, he really wished that he hadn't. The moment that the door swung open, Bella elbowed her way inside. Antonio was quick on her heels. Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Make yourself at home," he sarcastically grumbled.

The German trudged forward, entering the kitchen.

"You're just lucky that I'm going to let that little stunt of yours slide." Bella hissed and stormed into the kitchen. She pulled up a chair at the small wooden table. Antonio joined her. He was too busy petting and cooing at Hans to scold Gilbert for his un-host like behaviour.

Gilbert spared Antonio a confused look. He thought it best to poke some fun at his Spanish friend. "Toni!" he gasped out, feigning surprise. "What ever will you do without your precious Lovina? I thought that she was your second half!" Seriously. The Spaniard took that crazy Italian everywhere.

"She didn't want to risk bumping into Ludwig," Antonio answered. He waved off Gilbert's sarcasm with a simple 'don't you dare patronize me or I'll end you' eye roll.

"Hmmm," Gilbert mused. He would never understand Lovina's hatred for Ludwig. Sure. He was dating Feli now. But that didn't grant her the right to wish death upon the poor boy.

Gilbert smirked. He propped up an elbow against the kitchen counter and stuck up his chin. "So...did you miss the awesome me?"

Bella shed Gilbert with a cheeky grin. "Yes, actually, I did. But that's besides the point. Do you know why we're here?"

"Ja," Gilbert scowled. "You're here to talk to me about her."

"Ouch. Since when did Cheya become a her?" Bella chuckled. "That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Gilbert bit his tongue. Yes. His friends were trying to help. But they would never understand the memories and experiences that he and Cheya shared together. They would never understand just how broken she had made him feel. They were ignorant to so many of his pains that it was almost funny to watch them grasp at pull at the straws that in the end, were completely irrelevant and meaningless.

Gilbert chose to ignore Bella's latter question. "Look. What happened between us is much more personal than you think. I could sit here for hours trying to explain how I felt and how I still feel over the matter. But I don't think that I can bring myself to do that. I'm still trying to wrap my head around things. Anything that I say would be a complete waste of your time. I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But you can't help me and you probably never will."

Antonio stopped petting Hans and looked up. His green eyes pierced right through Gilbert's facade. The Spaniard had slipped into his soldier mode. Whenever Antonio became angry, he had this stoic, determined look in his eyes that would cause any sane person to flee for their life.

"You think that we don't know that?" Antonio seethed. "Gilbert, we've known all along. Cheya was always the one who helped you out of your slumps..."

Gilbert opened his mouth to protest. Antonio held up his hand to silence him.

"As your friends, we know about your lows and pride ourselves on your highs. But we also know, like you said before, that there's nothing much that we can do about it. But what we can do is be there for you. And by doing that, Bella and I refuse to stand by and watch you throw away the only friend who stood by you through it all. Yes. She made a mistake. But we all know for a fact that she's torn herself to pieces over it.

"Gilbert, you are like a brother to me. And as my sibling, please, do yourself a favor and just talk to her. I can't stand to watch this familia get torn apart. Not when we're so young. Not when we have so much left to enjoy together in our lives."

Bella sniffled and rubbed at her eyes. "You think that we don't know but we do," she croaked. "We've grown up together. We've watched you fall. But with Cheya, we've seen you rise. We're not trying to force you to make up with her by any means. And if you don't want anything to do with her, we'll understand. But, it would be a shame for you guys to end things on such a terrible note."

Huh. So they did know after all. Gilbert suddenly felt guilty for mocking their cluelessness. Here they were, two friends who truly cared about him, and all he could do was resent them for not 'understanding him properly.' Keh. What a pitiful excuse of a person he was. He didn't deserve to call these people his friends.

Gilbert swallowed. He bit his lip to keep his conflicting emotions at bay. "I wish I could tell you guys that I'll get over this. But if I did, I would be lying to two of the best friends that I've ever had."

Gilbert paused in order to collect himself. His eyes began to water. "Honestly, I don't know if I'll ever bring myself to do it. I may have forgiven her. But it still doesn't take away any of the hurt that I feel over the matter..."

Bella and Antonio stood up from the kitchen table. They opened their arms and pulled Gilbert into a tight group hug. Gilbert froze. He tensed up and willed himself not to cry.

Bella sobbed into Gilbert's chest. "I'm so glad Gil!"

"About what?" Gilbert croaked, awkwardly patting Bella on the head. He distracted himself by playing with the red ribbon that was tied into her hair.

"That you're healing." Antonio finished for Bella, who couldn't bring herself to speak.

"Oh," Gilbert mumbled in a daze. He squeezed his eyes shut, blinking the tears out of his eyes. "Danke."

Bella and Antonio pulled away from the hug. Their faces were warm with pride.

"Will you be going to the movie night on the 22nd?" Bella asked.

Gilbert nodded. "Ja. I already promised Maddie that I would go."

"Cheya's going to be there," Antonio warned.

"Hey, if I survived watching Bella attempt to break dance in roller blades, I'm sure that I'll be able to cope with one measly party." Gilbert shuddered at the thought.

"Seriously, I almost suffered from a seizure no thanks to you."

For once in her life, Bella refrained from smacking Gilbert upside the head. "You're the one who gave me all that beer," she scoffed. "I was drunk out of my mind."

Gilbert smirked. If he was going to go to that party, then he as well, would have to be drunk out of his mind.


Gilbert's POV: (December 19th, 12:30 PM)

It took Gilbert a while to calm down after his friends left. He decided to treat his woes with a full stomach. He pried his way through the kitchen. Eventually, Gilbert pulled out some left over ham. He placed the pink meat on a wooden chopping board and cut it into finer slices. He planned to make himself an awesome tasting sandwich. If Ludwig wasn't sick, Gilbert would have made one for him too. Unfortunately, the former could barely keep anything down. Ludwig puked out anything that wasn't a liquid. So not awesome.

Hans sat impatiently by Gilbert's side. His whimpers grew louder as time went on. Gilbert refused to look the canine in the eye. Doing so would be catastrophic. Hans had mastered his begging face. Gilbert couldn't stand to see the disappointment in those wide brown eyes of his. Hans whimpered much louder this time. Gilbert cursed under his breath. Hans was an old dog. His cholesterol was already high enough as it was.

"If I give you anymore ham, you're going to die from a premature heart attack. Do you want that? Do you want to die early?" he lectured. Hans responded by running a desperate, pleading claw along Gilbert's pant leg. He was quick to relent after that.

"Oh fine," Gilbert snapped. He cut off a decent sized piece of ham for the whimpering canine.

Gilbert crouched over and held out his hand for Hans. The canine's tail wagged furiously. He had finally gotten his owner to buckle under the weight of his feigned misery. Hans was quick to snatch the piece of ham from Gilbert's open palm, looking smug as he happily chewed away on his pity food. Gilbert scoffed. He walked over to the sink and ran his hand under the tap. He washed away the slober that Hans had semi-intentionally wiped onto him. The canine had always had a knack for getting under his skin. After wiping his hands dry with a dish towel, Gilbert placed two slices of bread into the toaster.

CLANG!

Gilbert heard the clang of a plate hitting the wall. He turned around. Hans had hopped onto the kitchen counter. His two front paws attempted to swipe and bring the plate of ham closer to him. The canine was failing miserably. His snout had pushed the plate forwards as opposed to towards him.

"SCRAM, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" Gilbert quipped in German.

Hans scampered out of the kitchen, his head hung low. The canine's tail sunk between his legs as he padded off to sulk in the living room.

DING DONG!

BORK! BOR-

"SHUT UP!" Hans stopped mid bark. He aimed a confused glance at Gilbert. "Oh. So now you decide to listen to me," Gilbert grumbled. For the third time today, he trudged over to the front door.

Scowling all the while, Gilbert wrenched open the door. "Listen. I'm not interesting in joining your Church. Jesus and I are already BFF's..." Gilbert faltered in the middle of his rant. The person standing on his door step was not in fact from the town's local Jesus cult.

A distressed looking Feli stood before him. Her eyes were wide with fright. She also appeared to be quite fidgety. Her lips trembled as she spoke. "WHERE'S MY LUDDY?!" she wailed. Regardless of his answer, Feli pushed past Gilbert and stormed into the house.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Make yourself at home," he muttered under his breath.

Gilbert helped Feli take off her coat. She was too jittery and nervous to do so herself.

"Feli?"

Gilbert placed a hand on the hysterical Italian's shoulder. "It's just the stomach flu. He'll be fine."

"W-where is he?"

"Lying in bed."

WHOOSH!

Gilbert's hair blew to the side. Feli sprinted past him. With wide eyes, Gilbert watched Feli hurdle upstairs. Her feet didn't even touch the ground. She took three steps at a time.

BORK! BORK!

Hans took off upstairs after Feli.

She was already long gone.


Feli's POV:

Feli flitted about in the kitchen. She chopped up vegetables like a mad woman and frantically sprinkled spices into the boiling soup. She couldn't bring herself to calm down. Ludwig was sick the flu. Her precious boyfriend. Sick. Alone and miserable while everyone else carried on with their day. The boy was probably struggling on his death bed right about now. His dreams of eating potatoes for the rest of his life were long gone. He would become nothing more than a muscular sack of skin and bones.

Feli shook her head. She urged herself to focus on the task at hand. She was cooking a light soup for Ludwig. All she could do was pray to God that he would be able to keep it down. Ludwig had been delirious for the past day. Feli was adamant on helping her sick boyfriend. It was her duty not only as his girlfriend but also as his potential future wife to see to it that he got better.

It didn't take much reasoning on Feli's part to sway Gilbert into letting her use the kitchen. The tantalizing promise of a home cooked meal was a rare occurrence in the Beilschmidt household. Their grandfather worked crazy hours running his construction company. There wasn't much time to prepare meals. To have someone cook for him was a gold mine that Gilbert couldn't hope to resist. Feli giggled to herself. No one could ever refuse the temptations of a hot and hearty meal.

"Oi! Smiley! Is the soup ready?" Gilbert cackled. He strolled into the kitchen and propped up on elbow against the wall beside the stove. Feli smiled. Gilbert was much nicer than what he led others to think. Exhibit A: His nickname for her. Sure. Gilbert had a flair for annoying those around him. But, on closer inspection, Feli could tell that he had a distinct talent for personalizing the few relationships that he did share with people.

Feli grabbed a ceramic bowl from a nearby cup board. She ladled a small amount of yellow coloured broth into it. "No. But do you think that you could give it a taste?" she asked.

Feli reminded herself to smile even wider in front of Gilbert. One glance at him and a person would conclude that he looked tired. But Feli knew far better than that. His face was sunk in. His eyes were sallow. And his complexion was paler than usual. No. Gilbert wasn't just tired. He was emotionally exhausted.

Gilbert eagerly took the bowl from her and brought it to his lips. He drank straight from the rim. "Mein Gott," His crimson eyes lit up with awe. "I'm drinking liquid heaven."

Feli grinned a toothy smile. "Perfetto."


Feli's POV:

Feli juggled a tray of soup in one hand and a hot towel in the other. She climbed up the stairs and set down the tray on the carpeted floor. She pushed open Ludwig's bedroom door. Feli smiled. Hans was curled up on the foot of the bed, happily snoring away. But you know who wasn't on the bed? Ludwig.

Ludwig was sitting at his desk. His shoulders were hunched under the fleece blanket that he had wrapped around his shivering body. His brows dripped with sweat and strain as he scribbled away in his notebook. Feli growled. She picked up the soup tray, stalked forward, and with a loud smack, slammed it on top of Ludwig's trigonometry textbook.

"HEY!" Ludwig protested. His mouth clamped shut when he realized that his unexpected visitor was not in fact his troublesome older brother. Feli raised her brows in question. Ludwig faltered under her stern look. The rosiness from before had returned to his cheeks. His fever must have gone up again. Strings of unkept blond hair fell into Ludwig's eyes. He bowed his head to avoid making eye contact with Feli's fierce, motherly glare.

"What are you doing?" Feli asked in a sweet voice. She was mimicking her sorella's furious motherese tone. The tone that sounded sweet but packed an unsuspecting punch.

"O-Oh...it just you," Ludwig blushed. He chuckled nervously and spared a discreet glance at the steaming bowl of soup sitting before him. "So that's where you went off to..." he trailed off. Feli could tell that Ludwig was nervous. He was worried that the soup would stain his textbook. Which in turn, would cost him a hefty replacement fee. Feli's uncharacteristic strictness prevented him from commenting further on the matter.

Ludwig's blush deepened. "You didn't have to do that," he mumbled in a shy, gruff voice.

Feli waved off his gratitude and placed a hand on his shoulder. She made good use of her nails. She let them dig into the German. Not even a blanket could protect his shoulders from the pain of having a manicured nail press into him.

"Care to explain why you're out of bed, Luddy?" Feli quipped.

Ludwig scoffed. "No sickness will prevent me from falling behind in my studies." He reached over his desk to grab a yellow highlighter. "I refuse to let my marks drop."

Ludwig's face set into a stubborn scowl. Feli's eyes began to twitch. Typical Ludwig. He always had a work schedule to follow. He wouldn't be satisfied unless he was two weeks ahead on his assignments. It was one thing to be organized. But it was another to have his entire life revolve around work. Especially when he was sick. He had no business doing any work. His only task for the day should have been rest.

Feli's gaze darkened. "Ve. If you don't get in bed right now, your marks won't be the only things to drop."

"Vhat?!"

"Nothing~!"

"Feli!" Ludwig groaned. "Stop...*grunt* pulling on my chair!" Feli ignored him. She placed both hands on the back of Ludwig's swivel chair. Her back was bent over. Feli tugged and pulled with every ounce of strength that she could muster. She wasn't very successful in pulling him away from the desk.

Ludwig was stubborn in his will. He used both hands to grip onto the edge of the desk. His jaw was taut and strained. Despite his weakened state, Ludwig had just enough strength to maintain his current position. In other words, he wasn't going anywhere. Feli wasn't a very strong opponent to begin with.

"*Grunt* Feli, you can pull all you want. I'm not going anywhere." Ludwig's chuckles turned into a hacking, phlegm-filled cough.

"See!" Feli scolded. "You're in no shape to be doing work right now." Feli grit her teeth. Her toes curled into the carpet. "If you weren't so stubborn, ve, I wouldn't have to do this."

Feli growled. She began to tug on the back of Ludwig's chair once more.

Hans sat on Ludwig's bed. His head bobbed back at forth. He was watching an amusing tug of war battle unfold right before his curious doggy eyes.

BORK!

"TCH! EVEN HANS THINKS THAT YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO ME!"

"THE DOG BARKS AT ANYTHING THAT MOVES!" Ludwig snapped back.

Feli cracked her knuckles. Hans cocked his head to the side and gave her a funny look. Feli smiled. She couldn't wait to see how Ludwig would react.

Feli crept behind Ludwig. She hovered over him and placed both hands on the back of his chair.

Ludwig took a small tip of tea. He set down the mug and smirked into his textbook. "Back at it again?" he mused.

Feli leaned forward. Ludwig's cheeks reddened considerably. "Turn around Luddy," she purred. The Italian spoke to the German in a low, gravelly whisper.

Ludwig's brows furrowed with wariness. He slowly spun around. Making himself dizzy was the last thing that he wanted to do. Ludwig took one look at Feli and immediately averted his gaze to the ground. Feli had taken off her sweater. Her top half was practically bare. All she wore was a flimsy, laced black bra.

Ludwig's eyes bulged out of their sockets. He moved to spin back around. But Feli had already anticipated this. She pinned down his wrists against the arm rests of the chair. With a triumphant, albeit mischievous giggle, Feli crawled onto Ludwig's lap, effectively straddling him.

"Don't mind me," she hummed. "Carry on with your homework. I hope that I won't be too much of a distraction.~"

Mein Gott, was Ludwig's last thought before he lost consciousness.

Feli beamed. Ludwig's face flushed with embarrassment. It was an unruly shade of purple. Hold up a minute...purple?! And why did his eyes roll back into his head? Not to mention the blood trickling out of his nose. Feli grabbed Ludwig's shoulders with both hands. She wailed and shook his unresponsive body back and forth. It was like shaking a rag doll. And a very heavy one at that.

"LUDDY?! LUDDY?! SPEAK TO ME!" she cried out but to no avail.

"GILBERT?! I THINK THAT I JUST KILLED LUDDY!"


Gilbert's POV:

"GILBERT?! I THINK THAT I JUST KILLED LUDDY!" Mid slurp into sipping on Feli's soup, Gilbert paused. He let his spoon fall into the ceramic bowl with a splash. He raised a brow. Feli's terrified shrieks bounced off of the walls. Gilbert let out a pitiful groan. He stood up and hurried over to the source of the chaos. Otherwise known as Ludwig's bedroom.

What Gilbert saw next brought tears to his eyes. He nearly pissed himself out of laughter. Feli stood before him. She folded her arms over her chest. She was wearing a flimsy looking bra on the top half of her body. Feli's eyes were wide with both guilt and fear. Sitting behind her was Ludwig. He lay slumped over in his swivel chair. He looked to be unconscious. Blood trickled out of his nose. Hans, on the other hand, was barking incessantly.

CLICK!

Ah. It all made sense now. Gilbert covered his face and averted his gaze away from Feli's exposed figure. He picked up the Italian's pink wool sweater from the ground. Gilbert cackled as he handed it over to her. "Here," he grinned, looking at her through the spaces in between his fingers. "Wouldn't want him to pass out again."

"VE! DOES THAT MEAN HE'LL BE OK?!"

"Yup!" Gilbert laughed.

"Kesesese. Poor little West. His system could barely handle the heat of his fever. Seeing the hot bod of his frau must have thrown him over the edge."

"O-oh... I see."

"Off you go, sweetheart." Gilbert wrapped a friendly arm around Feli's shoulders. He chuckled to himself as he led her out of Ludwig's room. "It's about time that he got some rest."

Gilbert whistled, beckoning a more than willing Hans to his side. "Besides, I'm sure that Solo would like to show off some of the tricks that he can do."

BORK!

Hans barked in agreement. His tail wagged furiously as he trailed after the cackling German and stammering Italian.

RIP Ludwig.

Everyone but Lovina will miss you.

"Feeling any better, West?"

"Ja, I think so. Although, I don't remember much from yesterday."

"Kesesese. That's probably for the best."

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"How are you feeling?"

"Uh.. I guess that I'm OK..."

"Then how come you have your phone shut off?"

"Verdammt West! What's up with these questions all of sudden?"

Glaring Silence.

"Would you stop staring at me like that?!"

"Answer my question and I'll stop."

"Ugh, so unawesome. I just…I don't feel like speaking to anyone right now."

"But what about… don't you want to speak to her?"

"HA! As if I'd want to speak to Maddie! Don't me laugh!

"Gilbert?"

"Ja?"

"Who's Maddie?"

"I didn't say Maddie…"

"Ja. You did."

"KESESESE! Looks like someone hasn't recovered from their flu!"

"Gilbert, don't you dare-"

SLAM!

"-Leave."

Gilbert pressed himself against the backside of the door and inhaled deeply. "What the hell was that?"


Thanks to: Guest, Layla, Efficient, TheBlueAcid, Persephone104, and mirrorkirby64 for reviewing last chapter.