Chapter 12

They spent the next few hours walking. Matthew was too uncomfortable at his own outburst to go back inside and Ivan was too angry at his father, not knowing why. Their bare hands brushed as they walked just a bit closer than ever before, until the Canadian grinned and grabbed Ivan's hand, entwining their fingers together.

"You almost fooled me, you know. With the whole aloof, 'I hate you, you should die!' act. If you truly believed that, you wouldn't have rushed out here just because I left my coat inside. You aren't a terrible guy. It just takes you a while to warm up to somebody, and I hope you realize that no matter what you do, I'm not giving up on getting you to be nice to me and accept that you're nice to me." He wouldn't look up from the pristine white snow in front of them as he spoke, revealing a nervousness that wasn't evident in his words. "I just ask that you aren't cruel anymore. You've already proven that you aren't." Ivan didn't respond other than to tighten his grip on Matthew's hand and lead him towards the edge of the property.

"You have been nothing but nice to me, you have opened your mind to this arrangement and you have done nothing to deserve the treatment you have received from me or my father." He walked us to a closed-in gazebo and leaned on the door. The ice covering it cracked and it opened in a shower of snow and small icicles. The floor inside the gazebo was soaked through from the snow and was rotting in places. There were drawings on the walls and floors, done by a child and looking as though somebody was angry and ripped them all up. "This was my hiding place when I was a child. I had a secret knock and everything. I didn't have many friends, and most of the other children that played with me were only there because my father intimidated their parents. For most of my childhood it was just me. Mother would come out sometimes and draw with me, worried that I would feel isolated and lonely because I didn't have friends most of the time." He sat down on one of the benches built into the wall, the only area that looked mostly intact. Matthew joined him, keeping their hands together.

"But as I grew older, so did she and her doctor said that she shouldn't be walking all the way out here as often as she did. She came all the way out here with me that very day to tell me. At the time she was more upset than I was. I am her only child, and it still kills her that I was alone for so long. I brought most of my drawing supplies back to my room and we spent time together there. It wasn't as special and we both knew it. The last time we tried to come back out here she almost collapsed from fatigue and pain. I brought her back to her room and came out here by myself. I was angry that I would have to be alone again, and ruined the drawings we put up together. I never brought anybody else back here, and after that happened, I never came back here either."

Matthew stroked the back of Ivan's hand with his thumb, smiling sadly. "I would have been your friend. I was far quieter than I am now, so I wouldn't have annoyed you as much. My drawing skill was limited to maple leafs and dogs that look like blobs, though." Ivan chuckled and sighed.

"I do not want to see the look on Father's face after we both walked out on dinner."

"On that, I must agree. I understand how so many people could be intimidated by him. But we have to go back sometime. And I'm sure if you wanted to come back to the Bonnefoy estate for a while you could." He resisted the urge to nuzzle his numb face into Ivan's shoulder. The thin wooden walls did nothing to cut through the cold.

"I do not think so. I wish to spend more time with Mother, and I doubt your father would want me to spend any more time than I have to in his presence. I have not lived up to his hopeful expectations."

"I don't think anyone can live up to papa's 'hopeful expectations.' He is too protective of his son, especially with Alfred as an older brother. That and you have the rare ability to make him completely give up. He has offered to break off the engagement multiple times."

"Alexander, you can't be like this every time your son shows any sort of insubordination!" Sofiya yelled, leaning heavily on her cane. "He is not a member of the staff to control and you are not his boss! If he wants to comfort his fiancé after you said things that you knew would hurt him!"

"I will do what I please. You can't act like the things I said weren't true. The outburst at dinner solved nothing. That Marcus Bonnefoy is spineless and weak. We must continue the line but I am ashamed that it is with that boy." He sat at his desk and went through the paperwork he set aside for after dinner. Without even looking at her, he could tell that Sofiya was fuming. "What would you have me do, Sofiya? Apologize to him and lie? Beg for him to continue the engagement with Ivan? I would rather the line die out than do such a thing." At his wife's silence at his statement, he looked up at her.

"One of these days I hope you realize that your ego, and your disgust of those you think are below you are going to kill you. And if you get that far, don't expect me to pick you up again. You know how I felt when you said those things. You are past apologies, and I don't think you are capable of being sincere when you say the words anymore." She turned and left his office, her smiles at the passing staff were fake and weak, she was too exhausted to manage a real one, after a repeat of the same conversation she has with Alexander every time he does something like this. She dreads the days that innocent and kind people are on the wrong side of his biting words.

*sets the chapter down and runs off in shame*

It's not beta read and I don't own Hetalia.

Song of the Chapter: "Mistress Mabel" by The Fratellis