NOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM. Oh, don't mind me, I'm just eating all the strawberries you gave me. But I must update this story!
Chapter warnings: Little blood, fluff, and humor. (not in that order)
Now, what was I doing? Ah yes. OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM...
Gilbert watched as the cute blonde boy lined up so among the other boys so that he could be put on a team. Since it was the first day, they were playing dodge ball.
He couldn't help but grin when he realized they were on the same team. He was so occupied by the subject of how cute the boy was, that he didn't notice Francis and Antonio trying to get his attention.
"Ohohoho. Checking out my cousin Gilbert?" Francis asked cockily. Gilbert didn't reply at first, until the information slowly registered in his brain.
"HOLY SHIT!" Gilbert exclaimed, doing a double take.
"Yes, it is true, he is my cousin. When he was a little kid, he called me papa…" Francis trailed off, day dreaming about something, and… was that drool?!
Whatever Francis was dreaming about, it got him hit in the face with a red ball. "Oh come on Frog! If you're not going to play, then get off the court!" A student on the other team yelled.
"GOD DAMN YOU ARTHUR! YOU GOT MY BEAUTIFUL FACE!" Francis screamed dramatically before turning and glaring at the British boy. Then the Frenchman developed a very devious smirk. "YOUR MOTHER WAS A HAMPSTER AND YOUR FATHER SMELT OF ELDERBERRIES!"
Arthur literally turned red with anger, and a war started between Gilbert's friend and the other boy. During the feud, a red ball flew at the cute blonde boy he was staring at earlier.
Gilbert didn't know what it was that made him do it, whether it was a sense or instinct, he leapt in front of the red ball that was seconds away from hitting the shorter boy. Gilbert heard a whistle blowing.
"Beilschmidt! You're out!" The coach yelled across the gym. Gilbert mumbled all the way to the bench, where Antonio sat flirting with his long time crush Lovino.
Suddenly Gilbert heard a pained cry fill the air. Everyone stopped their actions to look at the Canadian boy doubled over in pain. "Matthew!" Francis yelled in pure worry.
Gilbert sprinted toward him. He picked up the boy -Matthew? Was it?- And carried him into the lockeroom and locked the door. He ripped his shirt off and saw the scar Matthew had shown him earlier had a little blood trickling out of it.
He quickly grabbed some gauze and cleaning alcohol from the first aid box attached to the wall and cleaned Matthew's wound. The other boy hissed in pain when Gilbert applied the alcohol, but didn't complain when he wrapped the bandages around his chest.
"Matthew…" He let the name escape from his lips. The boy looked up at him with shining violet eyes. Gilbert felt his face heat up. 'Beautiful… simply beautiful…'
"Gilbert?" The other's voice snapped Gilbert out of his thoughts. The boy smiled softly. "…Thank you."
MORE. NEED. MORE. STRAWBERRIES!