A/N: At last! Here's the next chapter (after a considerably long wait.)
I do not own Hetalia. I stake no claim to Hetalia.
As Gillian looked out the window she had not expected time to pass by so quickly. The faint notes of the piano floated into the room and she knew her husband was composing some new piece again. He seemed to be failing to accomplish anything related to his music though and that came as a surprise to her, not that she would say that out loud to his face (Roderich was too sensitive, too fragile for that).
Now that she thought of it, how long was it since Roderich had locked himself up in his music room? Did he have a concert to prepare for?
Some important event that he was anxious about?
So far nothing came into mind and Gillian was stumped as to what could have brought Roderich into one of his moods.
Last week had been absolutely hectic for them after one short trip to the clinic ended up with her dear husband repeating the doctor's health lecture to her twice. Oh how hard she had tried not to snap at him for following her everywhere in the house like some sort of military escort. It was troublesome enough explaining to him in the kindest way possible that she could take care of herself and ensure that she would do nothing stupid that might jeopardize the baby's health. (Roderich almost always fusses for no good reason after all!) They also had an argument about preparing a room for the baby. In the end it had not gone well at all since they could not agree on the room's interior design. (Something about disliking the idea of yellow chick wallpapers!)
After their household mishaps Roderich was busy teaching children how to play piano in his special class for the following days. (She did not see him for hours during the days but all those hours of peace and quiet and generally being left alone was better than getting nagged all over again for her bad habits.) But this week was quite the opposite. There was already almost nothing interesting to do in the house and when they had gone for that scheduled prenatal check-up last week the doctor declared her and the baby in perfectly healthy condition.
So the only unhealthy one in the house had to be Roderich.
Him and his being the complete opposite of calm gentlemanliness.
Him and his unhealthy obsession with his unfinished compositions.
Perhaps her little brother had been right in assessing that her husband could have the most erratic moods.
To see what he was up to, she ventured into what she considered her husband's precious kingdom: his music room. Oh, but what a history that music room had! She could reminisce all those valuable bits of history later as she caught sight of her husband bent over his beloved piano as he struggled to reorganize his sheet music. The look of concentration on his face was priceless. She suddenly wished she brought a camera to immortalize this moment. For someone who prided himself in his self-control, Roderich could have the most adorably silly expressions and emotions written clearly on his face.
"What kind of song are you trying to compose this time?" she questioned once he finally acknowledged her with a surprised stare.
"I'm composing a lullaby," Roderich waved a few of his unfinished notes in front of his wife's bemused face. "A lullaby for our child."
"Oh Roderich, you don't have to create a lullaby with such a constipated look on your face. The severity of your emotions would immediately be conveyed in your notes and then no one would be able to sleep after hearing the opening tunes."
Surely Gillian had meant for the joke to lighten up the atmosphere a bit but Roderich frowned at that. "Then what am I supposed to do? I want our child to have a beautiful lullaby to listen to!"
Fussy, dramatic Roderich mode was already bubbling up the surface and Gillian knew she had to quell it before the worst could happen. "Stop worrying yourself to death about these things," Gillian sat beside her distraught husband at the piano.
It was a bit difficult to maneuver herself to give him a reassuring hug especially when her belly was nearly the size of a watermelon. She nearly bumped him out of the seat. "You don't have to compose complicated music for our baby yet. Your voice will be the best music our kid can listen to day and night. Besides, a little improvising won't hurt anybody."
They should do something together. They were married! Married! They shouldn't fight constantly or ruin each other's moods right?
Maybe it was time to reintroduce poor, highly stressed Roderich to the awesome wonders of leisure, relaxation and distractions. "Come, come Roddy darling," she murmured in the softest and gentlest of tones so as not to aggravate his nerves, "I believe it is time you took a break from your music and did something else. Something, which in my awesome opinion, has to do with other really awesome things you enjoy doing aside from piano key-smashing. Don't you pity your beloved piano, my dear hubby? I believe you have overworked it that's why it is not cooperating with you in composing fine music so, let your emotions loose on something else for a change."
"Oh Gillian, why is it that when I look at that strange glint in your eye I don't have a good feeling about whatever it is you are plotting at all!" "Oh ye of little faith, Roderich! Come and I will show you awesome alternatives!"
It was a good thing that Roderich's moods were easy to read and even easier to change. Apparently letting him loose in the kitchen was an alternate method to relieving his stress since it was his piano that had caused him much trouble in the first place.
Gillian waited for him to finish, mop at the ready in case another one of his strange explosions occurred. Being married to him still did not change the universal fact that no one really knows how he comes up with perfectly baked creations amidst mysterious explosions. She didn't bother asking now that she thought of it. Then again, maybe she should leave it all alone. A mystery would no longer be exciting once uncovered, and inwardly she liked Roderich with a bit of surprises in him.
She snapped out of her musings when she heard the clanging of pots and plates. "You do know I have to uphold my brother's cleanliness from time to time, yeah? Just tell me when you're done and I can unleash this awesome mop's powers on the kitchen!"
Whatever surprises Roderich had however, it was always best to be prepared even if it had to be a bit exaggerated.
Roderich tried to tone down his smile as they both looked at the finished product. Gillian arched a brow at him questioningly.
"Of all the cakes and pastries you could have made you chose banana cake?"
"Yes. We had some bananas left over the other day when you had those cravings of yours. I just couldn't let them rot away!" Roderich countered, a small frown making its way on his features. Again. He had tried his best to save the rest of the fruit and turn them into something else but his wife was obviously not happy with his efforts.
Finally, the disappointed look on his face softened something within Gillian and she shrugged in acceptance. After all, a happy and contented Roderich was better than a grumpy and fussy one.
"Fine, let me try it. It smells good so maybe there's a bit of awesomeness in that little cake you made." Maybe it was time to cut him some slack since he was making things hard on himself.
It didn't take five minutes for her to proclaim the highest of praises to the slice she had nibbled on. The rest of the cake was consumed so quickly that Roderich could only afford to eat a third of his own share before his wife snatched it off his plate. Roderich was flattered. He inwardly thanked Gillian's cravings for the sudden change. Maybe he should start paying more attention to his kitchen than to his piano. Apparently his culinary skills could magically put a happy grin on his wife's face than his musical skills.
That was followed by a relatively peaceful lunch, with Gillian's complaints kept to a minimum, her only comment being that they had interchanged the order of dessert and lunch; it was utter bliss for Roderich's ears to hear the wonderful sound of silence in the household for the rest of the meal. When Gillian moved to the living room to find a more comfortable resting position for her legs, he followed her and kept in mind that he still had a mountain of dishes to wash. (Most left over from Gillian's midnight snacking.)
They both took their time basking in the calmness of noon. Gillian would sometimes rub affectionately at her more rounded belly that Roderich had to wonder if Gillian would make a good mother.
When she made wild gestures at him to come closer he nearly fell out of his seat. There was a wild and happy grin on her face as she massaged a certain spot on her belly. Washing the dishes could be put off for another hour if his wife was so eager to have him in close proximity.
As he knelt by her side she took hold of his hand and placed it above that certain spot on her belly. He blinked up at her when he felt a tiny jolt.
"Can you feel it? The baby's moving. Say something," she murmured as he let his hand wander a bit.
There was a different rush of emotions that rolled into him as he stayed there with Gillian, the tiny movements in her belly awakening whatever paternal instinct he had lying dormant in his very being. He nearly lost all coherent thought as she giggled lightly and patted him on the shoulder when there was another light movement while he caressed her belly. All those affectionate gestures and motherly gentleness emanating from Gillian was something he never expected.
For the first time in his life, Roderich knew this was another great turning point. They were both going to be parents really soon now, just a few more months to go and they would finally be able to see and hold their baby. After everything they had gone through in this relationship, this marriage, they would finally take the first steps into parenthood together. This baby still in Gillian's womb was the fruit of their love for each other no matter how many ups and downs their relationship had endured. This soon-to-be-born baby they would love and cherish together as a family.
It was hope.
Two days after hope had blossomed that quiet afternoon, Roderich felt it was nothing more than a dream.
"Well, what do you think?"
Roderich looked up from the book he was reading and raised a brow in curiosity. Gillian turned her gaze away from the window and grinned. "Haven't been listening to me again, have you?"
Most definitely not.
His wife had been rambling for what seemed like an entire hour already and he was lost after the third sentence that spouted out of that loud mouth, and so he had picked up a book for distraction.
In fact, he did not remember exactly what it was that made Gillian rant so animatedly in the first place.
"What do I think of what?"
"The rain. See? It's raining outside real good, and so I came to wonder, what if our baby's born on a rainy day? Cold and dreary like this? You know vater had some really strange superstitions about the weather and stuff. Think our kid's gonna turn out grumpy and cold and scrooge-like if born on a rainy day?"
"What are you talking about? That's just plain nonsense!"
Book forgotten, Roderich's interest was now piqued by the topic at hand. Gillian viciously bit into a cream puff before settling herself more comfortably by the windowsill; the cold rain outside fogging up the glass and decorating it with silver splatters.
"What about a snowy day? Oh wait, how many months to go? I don't think the baby will be born during winter. So what if? Maybe a stormy day, or a really cloudy day with lots of fog that you can't see a thing. What do you think Roddy?"
The smile on her face was tempting, it was the mischievous kind that promised certain doom if approached in the wrong manner.
"I prefer that your due date would be a reasonably warm, sunny day so I won't have to worry about umbrellas, raincoats and runny noses. The weather won't have anything to do with the baby's temperament, you should know that!"
There was a short period of silence between them as they battled for the last cream puff on the tray. Gillian won out in the end, although she did cheat. Again. Roderich sighed and ignored the victorious smirk sent his way.
Sometimes for the sake of peace and happiness it was best to let your wife win household battles, well, most of the time. He never considered himself a sore loser.
Gillian had turned her attention back to the window once more, though she considered to address him with her fanciful babble.
"You know vater once joked that I am what I am today because I was born during a sunny day. Y'know, the one where it's really nice and warm and all the people would just love to go to the beach or something. That kind of happy sunny day."
Both their gazes met evenly for a second before Roderich grunted and buried his nose in his book. "Then I hope you give birth on a rainy day. Maybe the baby won't have to be like you so much. Then there will be a bit of quiet in this house."
Gillian cackled in amusement at his reply. "Get over it Roddy! You can be as noisy as you want. You do cause a good racket sometimes, especially when you're in a mood. Stop being a hypocrite because I've heard you curse up a storm in the shower once."
"Right. Forget we have ever had this discussion. I don't even recall what it was you were talking about a while ago."
"That brings us back to 'You haven't been listening at all, have you?' which I have somehow mentioned earlier."
"This discussion is going in circles." came the resigned sigh.
Gillian, in casual observance, swept a contemplative look at her husband before stating in nonplussed tone, "Come to think of it, circles. Vater did mention that the shapes of a pattern or design on the baby's first blanket determined personality. What shape are you, I wonder."
"Too bad. My mother wrapped me in a plain white blanket when I was born," Roderich replied with a smirk.
Gillian caught the underlying tones of smug delight. She shrugged and got up, making her way towards the toilet but not before giving her husband a light pat on the shoulder.
"Ah. So that's why you're as plain and boring as that blanket."
The ridiculous splutter of surprise and that priceless look on Roderich's face made Gillian do a mental fist pump.
Roderich - 1, Gillian - 100
"Take that, my darling prissy husband. You can never beat the awesome me!" she declared aloud, leaving said husband to wonder at her words.
A/N: And that's all I can give you. I am terribly sorry for those who have waited for an update! you know how busy real life gets...and my family recently moved so yeah, really hectic business for the past months. Hopefully (fingers crossed) I can put up the next chapter (if and when another stable internet connection occurs.)