Time To Kill You!

(I'm Not Kidding)

Gilbert was not happy having to wake up to his phone. But there was something in the back of his mind, a niggling reminder, which told him to pick it up before it buzzed again.

"Vhu... Ludwig? Vhat de hell...?" He was asking, but his groggy mind was very quickly jumping into fifth gear. Or whatever gear it was which meant it was going fast.

"You vanted me to vake you up vhen I did today."

"Fuuh..." Gilbert sat up, pushing his hair back. "Right. Danke schön."

"Bitte schön."

He dropped the phone on his bed, staring about for a few moments. Well, he had managed to get into his bed safe and sound last night, that was a good thing. He quietly moved off of his bed and sneaked over to a pile of his belongings which were on the ground, finding his packing tape. He moved over to the door, turning the doorknob so slowly there was no noise.

He'll never see me coming.

As soon as he stuck his head out he nearly was hit in the back of the head with a spanner. Fortunately Gilbert managed to pull back in time, his shoulder only being hit with a wrist, and his hand which held the packing tape came up to strike Francis in the face.

Both of them swore, pulling to opposite sides of the hallway. Gilbert looked over, massaging his shoulder, as Francis stared back.

"Morning, Gilbert!"

"Good mornin', Francis!"

Gilbert headed to the bathroom, ducking as Francis tossed the spanner. It missed his head by inches. He made certain to lock the bathroom door.

The Frenchman was in the kitchen by the time Gilbert got out, making breakfast like Gilbert had made him promise to do to pay for staying at his house. Gilbert walked very quietly, grabbing one of the clean pans he had yet to put away and swinging it.

Francis ducked and Gilbert had to stop before he hit the wall and chipped the paint with the pan. Gilbert made certain to take the unidentified mushrooms off the counter before Francis cooked them and put them on Gilbert's plate. Francis nearly stabbed him with a butcher knife and Gilbert nearly shoved him into the stove to cook him.

Eventually the two were sitting at the table eating breakfast. Well, sitting at the table. Neither of them were touching their food.

"You know..." Francis began, fork pushing the food around his plate. "The reason you are trying to kill me is because you think that I will be chosen. Which just shows how high your self-esteem is."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Right back at you, Francis."

"Non... My actions are purely for self-defense." The Frenchman waggled a finger in his direction. Gilbert rolled his eyes again. Which, considering its close proximity to his last eye roll, sort of hurt.

"Fuck your self-defense, you attacket me first," Gilbert reminded him. Francis considered that.

"Self-defense," he insisted. Gilbert groaned.

Antonio really just needed to proclaim him as his best man. Then Francis would just have to accept that Gilbert was a better friend.

Both were done eating (aka: not going to eat), but neither of them were getting up from the table either. Gilbert first was afraid that Francis had noticed the bottle which was primed to drop when Francis scooted his chair back, but then he heard a creaking noise above him.

Gilbert looked up.

What the hell's taking you so long to choose, Antonio?


Notes:

Yes, they are trying to kill each other so there will only be one choice for best man. Wonderful friends, right? At least, they are to Antonio. Yikes.

When they were young Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis ran away from Hearth. Gilbert and Francis tried to kill each other then, too. Everyone loves Antonio! And the three bought a parrot while they were out. Francis named it Pierre. That poor bird. Arthur hates it with a passion. Pierre liked making fun of him, but just sweet talked around Francis. Pierre did not help their marriage at all.