Warnings: Unbeta'd

The school bell that tolled the end of lessons for WA's students sounded less than fifteen minutes ago. Roderich made his way to his new clubroom, messenger bag resting on his shoulder, gently bobbing up and down by his side with every - some would say, slow - movement his longish legs made. Gradually, his walking pace increased the closer he got to soon-to-be base of his wonderful new music club. The Austrian wasn't going to deny the fact, he near enough the most excited he had ever been in his life, and Roderich honestly thought that was a little strange. The last time he had felt as equally excited was the first time he had won the International Young Pianist Finals, aged eight at the time and his rivals ranged between twelve to fourteen. In the end, Roderich concluded that music was the only thing that could ever bring him to this level of excitement.

At last, the brunet's feet had led him to the door of Room 7. Roderich closed his violet eyes and inhaled slowly and exhaled. Pale, slender fingers reached out to touch a golden door handle, tremblingly, not in thrill of entering new club room, but almost in unease. Why was he nervous? He had no reason to be; he clearly knew what was behind the door, a simply decorated former Music classroom, devoid of students' chairs, desks and any other useless clutter, furnished with a cabinet of musical sheets, a plain coffee table and a few chairs here and there. Of course, the most important thing was the piano, his piano. The beautiful, rich chocolate brown piano he had received after he had completely his music diploma; it was his absolute treasure, his everything! The sheer symbol of his love and devotion to music.

After seconds of deep breathes and mantras in his head, Roderich's nerves had finally calmed down enough for him to open the door without the rattling of the doorknob between agitated fingers. He turned his slim wrist and gently pushed the door open, revealing his prefect music room and...

...Oh, right. That.

A certain Prussian, slumped down on one of the chairs nearest to the coffee table, grinned cockily at Roderich, whose violet eyes rapidly dimmed their excitement to a point of nonexistence. A forced, formal smile plastered across the musician's face, he was sure Gilbert had noticed but he didn't know whether it should bother the Austrian or not, so the smile stayed. Even when he said, "Hallo Gilbert, I'm glad to see you here."

Gil did notice that smile, the one the Austrian put on at formal event, the one he used just for the sake of manners, the one that pissed of the Prussian, but chose not to say anything. One day, Roderich would be genuinely happy to see him, one day he would make the Austrian smile right from the bottom of his heart. So, Gil replied, "Oh, don't look so surprised, Roddy! I did promise!"

"Well, you didn't really," Roderich pushed back his glasses, the slightest hint of venom in his otherwise pleasant tone, "but that's beside the point." He set down his messenger bag on a nearby chair, crouched down beside it and began to search through its contents. The brunet pulled out some sheet music now and again and placed it on a neat pile on the table. With a sigh, he picked up the pages and walked over to the cabinet and filed them away, leaving the Prussian to watch him in silent confusion.

"Oi, Specs, what's up?" asked Gil. He didn't mind watching Roderich work, not at all. But it was strange, why he the only one here? Where were the other club members? "Hey, do you want me to round up the other members, whilst you... do whatever you're doing...?"

And then Roderich froze, he hadn't told Gilbert yet. He hadn't told Gilbert they were the only club members, and he didn't want to. It was all too tempting to just let him go, on a futile search for the 'others', but Roderich knew there was no point in that. "Gilbert, wait. Don't bother."

The Prussian turned to face the musician, a strange apprehension was painted over those violet eyes, before they returned their gaze to the musical sheets again. "Okay, I'll just call them, then. So who-"

"No one!" Roderich felt his calm facade crack immediately, deep breaths in and out didn't tranquilise him any longer. There was no way he could escape the truth now. His pride had already been shattered earlier today, anyway. "Y-you and I are t-the o-only members." Roderich's senses had readied him for a mocking laugh, a snide remark, anything but the Prussian's strong arms around his neck in such a comforting manner.

The hug wasn't meant to happen, just a...er, urge Gil couldn't keep at bay, but the Austrian didn't resist, in fact, he felt his little birdie melt into his embrace and that made his heart race to no end. The albino took his time to take in the scent of Roddy's hair, as the brunet released a stressed out sigh. Chocolate, was what his hair smelt of, dark chocolate with a hint of lily, to be precise. Maybe it would have been nicer without words, maybe it would have been nicer if he would just shut up, but Gil talked all the same, "It's fine, Roddy. It's fine if it was just you and me."

A faint ghost of a smile played upon Roderich's lips. As much as he hated to admit it, his was kind of nice. Gilbert's warmth passing through him, he let the comfort of the other's arms ease him for a moment. The Austrian could feel the albino's breath creeping pass his cheek as he spoke; it didn't reek of foul beer as he had anticipated, just slightly vanilla-like and maybe some mint. Quite a pleasant mixture, Roderich almost forgot to reply.

So this one's a short chapter, but the next one is a long enough to hopefully make-up for it.