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EYES ON ME

Toris had always considered himself an exceedingly simple man. He didn't feel as if he ever asked for too much. He was very content with what he had, he never sought to cause any mischief, never got himself into trouble, never wanted to argue much, and tried to merely carry on about his daily business with perfect stoicism.

So was he being so very unreasonable, not wanting to be used as a living pincushion? Was he being so difficult?

Had anyone asked Feliks, the answer would have been 'yes!'

Toris and Feliks had grown up together, were best friends, and naturally procured a house together when they had come of age. A quaint little house, two levels, with a nice balcony beneath the grand window above. Below, a large yard, hidden by trees and shrubs.

Toris loved standing out on the balcony to clear his mind. Liked watching the stars, the streets beyond, the little town lit up in the dark.

When he felt the most peaceful.

Found himself frequenting the balcony far too much these days, after he had learned something new about Feliks.

He and Feliks had always gotten on so well, but it had admittedly been a shock when Toris had come back home one day to find Feliks holding a dress in front of himself before the mirror, as if wondering how he would look in it. An extremely awkward day, and neither of them had spoken much for the rest of the night, Feliks looking utterly mortified and Toris quite blank.

But they were best friends, and because Feliks was so quiet the following days, Toris finally forced himself to start the very embarrassing conversation and ask Feliks what, exactly, his, ah...intentions had been. Feliks had shifted and shuffled, and finally just grumbled something nearly incomprehensible about 'just wondering how it would look, y'know, for a costume party or such.'

Indeed.

Very awkward, yes, but Toris was a good friend, tried to be anyway, and had finally steeled himself and said, as casually as he could, 'So why don't you try it on?'

His face was flaming red, he knew, but Feliks had looked ridiculously relieved, had exhaled shakily, and had perked up after that.

Toris sometimes regretted opening his mouth, because Feliks had immediately taken to his little hobby of sorts, and at first it had made Toris incredibly uncomfortable, to walk through the door and see a very pretty woman at the table and remember that it was actually just Feliks. Made him very uneasy, but Toris always stayed very silent and tried not to make Feliks feel any worse about it than he may have already felt. Of course, it was only an indoor hobby, strictly behind closed doors, and Feliks was still a very dashing man on the outside world. The second he came home though, he immediately shed those clothes for what he apparently now preferred.

After a while, Toris had gotten used to it, had stopped feeling that discomfort, but then Feliks had gotten sick of only having one dress, and was determined to make his own to fit his fancies.

The problem was that a normal woman was just too small a frame for Feliks, and Feliks had eyeballed Toris one night, as they drank together, and has said, pryingly, 'Care to model for me?'

Without even knowing what Feliks meant, Toris had immediately replied, 'No.'

Feliks pouted, and Toris eventually relented.

Regretted it intensely, and fought with Feliks for a very long time before Feliks could get him to sit still long enough.

But oh! What a fool he felt, as Feliks threw fabrics over him and pinned things together, sometimes accidentally pricking him. When it was too much, Toris escaped to the balcony, still dressed in the ruffles and bright fabrics Feliks had draped over him, and took a good while to clear his head.

He was a good friend, but sometimes he felt like he may have been giving more than taking.

Toris would give Feliks one thing, however; he was very skilled, and created remarkably beautiful dresses. The better he became, the more Toris found himself being used as a pincushion, because suddenly Feliks discovered his talent and had begun selling his dresses for the larger-framed women. Good money, but Toris wasn't so certain it was worth his pride.

Sometimes, Feliks would look Toris up and down, smile snidely, and say, 'Good thing you don't like this. I think you're prettier than me. I dislike that immensely.'

Toris' face would burn red, and yet...

Pfft—well, perhaps, because he would glance at himself from time to time in the mirror, in one of Feliks' new creations, and realize that he actually did make a rather charming lady.

Detestable.

It was hurtful, come to think, because Toris considered himself quite a handsome man and disliked thinking that he could so easily make a pretty woman. He had absolutely no desire whatsoever to ever be seen as 'pretty'.

He was saving his money, in fact, to have a special mannequin made for Feliks, in Toris' size, so that the bastard could no longer use him. He loved Feliks, he truly did, but the damage done to his masculinity was becoming quite painful. He wasn't like Feliks in that way, and it was a bit hard to swallow. Couldn't stand seeing himself so feminine. Made him rather queasy. Embarrassed. Made him feel less than, in a way, because of course masculinity was something he prided himself on. Feliks could do as he pleased, but Toris didn't share his sentiments in that aspect.

He found himself often on the balcony in full dress, fleeing from Feliks for a breather, and that was when Toris had first seen that man. He had just walked by on the street beyond the yard one day. Could see him just barely over the hedge.

Toris only noticed him because he was standing still and staring across at Toris very intently.

Absolutely mortified to be seen like that, Toris immediately fled back inside, heart pounding and face red. Oh, what a miserable shame, had that man somehow recognized him from town. Could have keeled over then, he swore it, and he very testily tore the dress off, despite Feliks' protests, and hid himself away for days.

Eventually, Feliks was able to smooth-talk him back into place.

As always, Toris ended up fleeing to the balcony, and he stayed out for a long while, before he once more saw that man walk by and then fall still. He stopped and stared again, and there was that adrenaline and Toris fled yet again.

The next time he saw that man, it wasn't on the street.

Feliks had been making a rather ambitious new dress, very heavy and very embellished, many layers and different fabrics, a ball gown he supposed, and it was making him hot and itchy and miserable, so as was normal by now Toris fled outside.

He was always on the lookout now for that man, ready to run, but that evening he didn't see the man on the street. The spring air was cool, soothing, and Toris folded his arms on the railing of the balcony and rested his head, hardly able to breathe from the tightness of the dress around his waist. Feliks truly was merciless, in all senses. Couldn't wait until he procured that mannequin, because, oh, was his manhood ever—

"Good evening!"

Toris had gasped aloud in a fright, jumping upright when he realized there was a voice directly below the balcony.

He gripped the railing for balance and peered down, anxiously, and saw a man there below. Toris knew at a glance that it was the man who had stopped in the street and stared, if only by how pale he was. The palest man Toris had ever seen, white as snow, hair pale silvery-blond. Toris had seen him around town once or twice, but knew nothing about him. He was very well-dressed, in expensive clothing. Very strong, very broad. Quite the shapely jaw on him, for sure, and a rather statuesque nose. Nobility, perhaps, with many lines of good breeding.

He was remarkably handsome.

The man raised his hands, as if trying to calm Toris and keep him from running away, and he said, in a rough but not unpleasant voice, "Forgive me! I didn't mean to startle you. Apologies for coming over unannounced. I saw you out here, several times, and I wanted to come introduce myself."

Toris stayed deathly silent, gaping down at the man in awe and terror.

Oh, please, dear god, don't let this man suddenly recognize him, please, please, would have positively died there from shame. He knew that his face was burning so furiously red that the man below could certainly see it even in the low light.

The man fell for a moment, as if giving Toris an opportunity to speak, but Toris held still, attempting to appear very unfazed, uninterested, stoic, and he stayed utterly silent above all else, because of course if he opened his mouth and spoke this man would realize he was not speaking to a 'lady'.

At the silence, the man looked a bit perplexed, but was hardly deterred, and asked, in a gentler voice, "Have you always lived here? Never have I seen you in town. What's your name?"

Toris lifted his chin, broke his eyes away from the curious man, and stared out straight ahead, backing up ever so slightly, very intent on sliding slowly back inside the house without making a fool of himself.

A long silence, as Toris slunk ever backwards, and the man tried, "I understand it was rude of me to come into your yard. I apologize. I merely wanted to speak to you. Have I offended you?"

Anther step backwards.

The man tried yet, stubborn and persistent, and offered, "That's a beautiful dress. Do you make them yourself? There aren't many people in town who could create that."

Oh, Feliks would just love this one. Should have switched places and Feliks could very happily concede to this man and play along with him and flirt from above.

The dress was beautiful, yes, and Toris had a nice face, so Toris could only assume that this man was either unbothered by or entirely ignoring Toris' very wide shoulders and chest and his large arms. Perhaps the dress hid it well, or the man was more interested in face than body.

Didn't matter, in the end.

One more step, and Toris had the door in his hand, and was very quick to whirl around and dart back inside, to a cry of, "No, wait!"

He drew the curtains together very quickly, hands shaking a bit and feeling quite flustered. Was no longer certain if it was the dress, and ambled back off to Feliks dutifully, if only so he would hurry and finish and get him out of this blasted contraption.

Toris had assumed that his silence had been enough of a hint for the man to deem him uninterested and to never return. Had considered the matter settled.

How wrong he was!

Several nights later, when Feliks was working on his next creation, a much lighter dress thank heavens, a spring dress, Toris once more found himself on the balcony.

His shock was unrivaled when he heard a familiar voice from down below call, "You somehow seem lovelier every time I lay eyes upon you!"

He jumped, gasped as before, and clenched the railing again in a moment of awful insecurity.

Surely enough, there that man was down below, dressed as nicely as ever and smirking away, and when his eyes met Toris', he reached up and removed his hat, holding it at his side as he gave a rather dramatic bow. Toris' face was red, as usual, and he wished above all else that he could have opened his mouth and told this man to get off of his property, and now.

Couldn't.

The man asked, as he had before, "What's your name?"

As before, Toris stared at him dumbly, and silently, eyes wide and feeling surreal. The man was hardly daunted, seemed so confident in himself, rather arrogant and bold, and stood there beneath the balcony with no shame at all that he was entering someone else's property without permission.

At Toris' silence, the man offered, "Should you like to come down, perhaps? Come have a walk with me?"

Toris gawked down, aghast at the audacity, and didn't move a muscle.

"Will you not answer me at all?"

Silence.

Could see the gears grinding away in that pompous head, and then the man gave a rather soft exhale, his brow lifted, he seemed to understand something, and he met Toris' eyes and asked, "Can you speak?"

Tellingly, perhaps, Toris stayed silent.

A long stare of contemplation, and Toris hoped the man would lose interest and carry on.

But he didn't, and shortly after he gave a rough laugh and waved his hat in the air, playfully, "Ah, I'm not bothered! I speak plenty."

Toris barely suppressed the roll of his eyes.

The man stayed there below for the entire time Toris was outside, and that time, right before Toris made his escape, the man called, "You have beautiful eyes!"

His heart pounded, and he once more hid himself within.

Was surprised and yet not when the man came again the following night.

Toris humored him, because he had no choice, really, as telling him to go away and never come back would embarrass the both of them when Toris' identity came to light.

After the fourth occasion, this apparent suitor finally caught Feliks' attention. Feliks had glimpsed him when he had come to fetch Toris, and he had quickly backtracked and fallen still, watching and listening but well out of the man's sights.

Feliks was very much onto Toris suddenly, and often crept over to the edge of the window when Toris stood on the balcony. Toris knew he was observing, taking notes, seeing what was happening and creating his own little picture.

Toris, for his part, couldn't quite determine why he still stood out there on the balcony when he knew the man would come. No doubt some part of him enjoyed the attention, but this was very inappropriate on all levels, of course, because that poor man thought he was charming a woman, and Toris was far too cowardly (rightfully so!) to inform him otherwise. Had he been bolder, he would have dressed normally and tied back his hair and stood there on the balcony in wait, to see the look on that man's face when he came by and saw that his lady had turned into a sir.

Would have been amusing, but far too mortifying.

So Toris stayed silent, and the man just assumed by now that Toris was mute and always chattered away happily, trying hard now to get him to smile instead of speak.

The man seemed to come by every day.

Toris pretended that he wasn't looking forward to it.

It wasn't often that Gilbert doubted his abilities, but this was one of those very rare occasions.

Had he lost his charm?

He had gotten so used to being fawned over, perhaps, that being mostly ignored was quite painful to his ego. Had set his sights on something and was determined to claim it, but it wasn't as easy as it often was for him.

He was nobility, used to getting what he wanted.

And now, out of nowhere, he just wanted that beautiful, silent woman that idled there upon that balcony. He couldn't say precisely what it was about her, for she certainly wasn't a typical woman. Rather...broad, wasn't she. It was those eyes, perhaps. They had snagged him in an instant and pulled him in. Had never seen such pretty eyes.

It was increasingly disconcerting to him that he couldn't get her to come down from her balcony, despite his best efforts. Felt so certain at times that she would fold, but she was quite strong-willed, it seemed, for she had yet to give in. He didn't care if she couldn't talk—he did enough of that for the both of them. He'd win her over yet, he would. He'd wooed many a soul, men and women alike, in his day, and wouldn't let this one be the one that got away.

So far, he hadn't even gotten her to smile, but she still stood there every day and humored him, so he could only work with that and move forward.

Every time Gilbert went back home from that balcony empty-handed, he would sit himself down upon his couch, elbows upon his knees and chin held in his palms, and then his little brother would run up to him without fail and stare at him.

His newfound unluckiness with love seemed less irritating when Ludwig was in his sights. Did hate that Ludwig was getting just a little taller every month, but that aside, Ludwig was the perfect cure for his bad moods. Had just turned six, and was at that perfect stage of childhood, where he was independent enough and yet perfectly willing to be coddled. Pretty as could be, like their mother who had died giving birth to him, and Gilbert could always rely on Ludwig to cheer him up.

As he always did, Ludwig peered up at Gilbert, gave a chirping, "I'm glad you're home!" and then Ludwig would push his arms aside and crawl into his lap. Gilbert gladly accepted him there, pulling Ludwig to his chest and kissing his forehead.

Being a guardian wasn't always easy, but he was quite lucky, with a maid to fall back on and Ludwig being a very well-behaved child. Roderich and Erzsébet, the reliable lifelong friends of his deceased parents, were often there to lend advice and helping hands.

Gilbert was twenty-five, but certainly felt less than an adult at times.

Ludwig was the best possible child he could have asked for. Was very quiet and very smart, extremely polite, so rarely cried, was very affectionate despite his silence, and always did what Gilbert told him to do.

That being said, Ludwig would have been far more perfect if he didn't come barging into Gilbert's room before the sun rose to jump on his bed and then on top of him, shaking him awake long before he was ready. Also, if Ludwig could have just stopped running about for a few hours every day, just a few, just so that Gilbert could catch his breath, that would be great. If Ludwig would stop trying to climb the tree in the yard and giving Gilbert anxiety, that would also have been nice. If Ludwig could run out of energy once in a while. Getting a kitten for Ludwig had been a good start to distracting him and wearing him out before he could break Gilbert's back, but it seemed sometimes that Ludwig's energy was boundless, limitless, and Gilbert was often run ragged.

That aside.

Gilbert divided his time well, and made enough room in his day to run over to that balcony and keep attempting to coax that woman down. Would succeed one day, he knew it. Just needed to find that extra burst of charm. Needed one little push. Needed something to convince her that coming down was worthwhile.

He came home defeated every time, but was ever undeterred.

Gilbert glanced over at Ludwig one night after another fail, humming to himself as he held the kitten up above his chest and swayed it gently to and fro. A momentary pause in his thoughts, distracted effectively by Ludwig as he often was, for Ludwig was undeniably charming and adorable and impossible to resist. Lord knew that Erzsébet was always upon Ludwig, grabbing him up and cooing over him and spoiling him and giving him every bit of her attention. Even stern, stiff, unbending Roderich smiled when Ludwig was near, because Ludwig was just the perfect child.

Naturally, every man said that about their little brother, but Gilbert was certain no one could say it as sincerely as he could.

Hm...

Ludwig was irresistible, wasn't he?

Gilbert's mind began whirring away. Well! He wasn't making much headway with the pretty-eyed woman, now was he, and Ludwig was just adorable. If Gilbert couldn't coax that obstinate woman down, then he was absolutely certain that Ludwig could, for sure, no question at all.

The next day, Gilbert set his plan into motion.

They were outside in front of the house, and Gilbert grabbed Ludwig's hand, looked down at him, and said, "Ludwig. Pay attention to me now."

As always, Ludwig fell still, perfectly at attention, eyes locked on Gilbert and very ready for his task.

"I'm going to take you on a walk, and I want you to remember where we're going, alright? Pay attention to the streets, and remember the path. Okay?"

Ludwig nodded his head, and affirmed, "Okay!"

With that, Gilbert began the walk to that house, and serious Ludwig was very much scanning his surroundings and memorizing streets and houses and turns. So cooperative. When they reached that house that held his silent siren, Gilbert stopped and knelt down before Ludwig.

"Do you remember?"

"I think so."

"Don't worry. We'll walk it again every day until you remember for sure, alright?"

"Okay."

Ludwig asked no questions, and merely did as Gilbert said, as always, and Gilbert glanced up, but saw no one there, so he walked Ludwig back home. It wasn't a very far walk at all, and Gilbert was confident that clever Ludwig would catch on. Three days later, Gilbert walked to that house alone, and instructed Ludwig to come find him there.

Ludwig remembered the way, and found Gilbert there in front of that house.

Perfect! Ludwig was a blessing.

It was very safe in town and Ludwig was very astute, and Gilbert had no worries at all about Ludwig walking about on his own, and was eager to set the child to work on his behalf.

The next morning, before Gilbert went off to work, he pulled Ludwig into his lap, and handed Ludwig a little bouquet of flowers he had picked.

"Ludwig, I have something I want you to do today."

As always, Ludwig perked right up and paid attention.

"Do you remember the house I showed you?"

Ludwig nodded, focused eyes piercing Gilbert's. Ludwig was certainly going to be a very intense man, could tell that right off.

"Good. I want you to go that house today, a bit before noon, knock on the door, and give these flowers to the lady that lives there. She's very pretty and always wears very pretty dresses, so you'll know her right away. Understand?"

Ludwig clenched the flowers to his chest, nodded again, and seemed very determined to see this task done and do a good job.

"Yes, Gilbert."

Gilbert ruffled Ludwig's hair, kissed his forehead, and with that he left, entrusting witty Ludwig to do as he said and use that adorable face of his to charm the lady down when Gilbert just couldn't. No one could resist Ludwig, and he was truly the final push Gilbert needed to get the lady to at least go on a walk with him about the town.

That day dragged so slowly, as impatient as he was to get back home and have Ludwig report how it had gone. He quite literally ran home, as fast as he could, heart pounding and feeling both elated and terrified.

Gilbert immediately asked, as soon as he walked through the door, "Ludwig! Did you do as I asked?"

Ludwig came running up to him, crashing into him quite forcefully, and replied, "Yes, Gilbert! I took the flowers to the lady."

A rush of hope.

"And?"

Ludwig's smile was bright, and very happy. Bouncing on his heels as he was.

"She loved them! She was so happy. She let me stay over for the afternoon and she gave me tea and a cake."

No wonder he was so hyper then. Ah, a fair price to pay, and Gilbert was very proud of himself indeed, once more felt arrogant and bolstered and confident. He picked squirming Ludwig up, sat him atop his shoulders, and walked about with him outside for a while as Ludwig babbled on endlessly about the lady and how nice and pretty she was and how much Ludwig couldn't wait to go back and see her again.

Would certainly not disappoint the child in that manner, for sure, if it seemed to make everyone happy.

Spurred on, Gilbert went into the garden the next morning, clipped a few more flowers, just a few, wrapped them with a ribbon, and this time he scribbled a short note, nothing grand, merely a sentence espousing the loveliness of the lady's eyes. Before work, he once more sat Ludwig down, handed him the flowers, and said, "Take these to that same lady, understand?"

Ludwig made a high-pitched noise of excitement, and nodded his head very eagerly. Gilbert snorted at him, and lied in wait as his little brother did his wooing for him.

As before, Gilbert came rushing home, and asked Ludwig if he had done his job. As before, Ludwig very happily reported back to him that he had, indeed, done what Gilbert had asked, and that the lady was very much content and receptive.

Gilbert felt in control once more, and he let Ludwig go over to that house with flowers every single day, choosing to hide himself. After all, they did say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, or something like that, and surely with charming little Ludwig there every day, the lady would at last relent and come down from her balcony.

Ludwig was absolutely wearing Gilbert down to the ground, however, with as much sugar and caffeine as the lady was apparently giving him during the afternoon. He was sore as could be, from Ludwig running at him and tackling him repeatedly, always jumping on him and sometimes literally climbing him like a tree. He was bruised, but quite happy.

Ludwig prattled on about the lady nonstop, and constantly asked Gilbert who she was and when she could come live with them and if Gilbert wanted to make her Ludwig's mother and everything in between, and Gilbert contemplated.

Ludwig had certainly taken to the woman, and so clearly that meant that the woman was open to Gilbert, for she wouldn't have been so willingly accepting his flowers otherwise and mothering his little brother so ardently.

His notes lately had turned a bit more into love letters, very short and simple but love letters all the same, and Gilbert always asked about how happy the lady was to receive them. The answer was always the same : 'She loves them, Gilbert! She keeps the letters in a little stack on the fireplace, and the flowers she puts in water on the kitchen table. She's always smiling.'

Wondrous.

His ego was up to high heaven by then.

Gilbert came back one day, and Ludwig was playing with a very large stuffed swan, the kitten there in his lap as well. Gilbert came over, curiously, and asked, "Who gave you this, Ludwig?"

Without missing a beat, perching the kitten atop the swan's back as if it were a steed, Ludwig replied, "The lady! She made it for me."

Gilbert couldn't help but smile, and well...

Seemed like the time was right. Time for him to reinsert himself, now that the lady had clearly been charmed off of her feet by both Gilbert's persistence and Ludwig's cute face.

Gilbert was able to catch a breather that night, with Ludwig distracted by the toy and not rushing Gilbert to tackle him to the ground.

Three full weeks had gone in this manner, and Gilbert was confident enough that he had made enough of a good impression to just go knock on the door.

So he did, going to the house the very next day and knocking firmly and confidently. Ludwig was already here, and Gilbert had waited an hour before trailing behind him. He knocked again, and when no one answered, Gilbert furrowed his brow, and looked around. No one came down, and no one was on the balcony. It was very risky, extremely presumptuous and extremely rude, but Gilbert tested the doorknob anyway. It was unlocked. He hesitated for a moment, and then pushed it open, because he had the excuse, after all, that he was looking for his little brother.

He stepped inside, so quietly and carefully, putting his hat down upon the accent table, straightened up and smooth his hair, and began walking along. He passed the kitchen, and saw that his flowers were indeed in water, upon the table and here and there on countertops.

Pleasant.

Sounds caught his attention, and he followed it beyond the kitchen to a closed door. He heard voices through the door, and of course one was Ludwig's. The other was unknown, speaking in that tone of voice that adults used around children, high-pitched and cooing. Gilbert pushed his lips out, thoughtfully, and wondered if he had been had. Perhaps his lady could speak after all and had merely been teasing him. With that thought in mind, Gilbert grabbed the handle and carefully pushed open the door.

When he saw, he could have just died.

Gilbert gasped aloud, took a step back, eyes wide and mouth open, and was positively aghast.

Oh, what a miserable misunderstanding!

For Ludwig was being adoringly embraced, yes, but certainly not by the woman Gilbert had sent him there to charm! Rather, Ludwig was held up within the arms of a blonde woman, sitting there atop her lap and hugging her around the neck, as the woman all but squealed and crooned warmly to Ludwig in a murmur.

Ludwig, so easily led astray, had been drawn to the wrong woman! All this time, wasted, as Ludwig had delivered his flowers to a different lady.

And from the look of him, Ludwig couldn't have cared less, as the woman pushed her nose into Ludwig's and rubbed them back and forth. Ludwig made a contented noise in his throat, and Gilbert suddenly came back to life and took a step forward.

The woman glanced up, saw him there and gave a gasp of surprise, and immediately clenched Ludwig quite protectively, asking, "Who are you?"

Gilbert opened his mouth, made a strangled noise of confusion, and fell still.

Ah—!

Gilbert realized immediately, at that deep voice, that it wasn't precisely a woman holding Ludwig then. Oh, dear. Gilbert felt his face burning red immediately, and he cleared his throat and stood up straight, trying his best to appear composed.

Perhaps he failed.

Ludwig, sitting there so happily and smiling away, finally chirped, "Hello, Gilbert! Have you more flowers for me to send?"

An awful, electric stare between the, erhm, lady and Gilbert, and Gilbert could have positively keeled over dead then, he really could have, and perhaps the blond felt the same, for his face was also suddenly quite red.

Well, he had specifically informed Ludwig to deliver the flowers to the very pretty lady in the very pretty dress and Ludwig hadn't exactly failed him in that sense, if only from a visible standpoint, because it certainly was a very pretty lady in a very pretty dress.

Gilbert cleared his throat then, put his hand respectfully behind his back, gave a short bow, and then said, gruffly, "Ludwig! Come here."

Ludwig took his time, the brat, and it was very clear that he had gotten used to being doted upon and coddled these past few weeks, for he was very reluctant to leave those arms. He came trotting over to Gilbert eventually, smiling away, and Gilbert was very quick to grab his arm and shove Ludwig behind him.

The...lady stood, and asked, "So! I suppose you're the one who's been sending me flowers every day."

Gilbert winced a bit, and bowed his head.

"Ah, yes, forgive me! I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. I had...erhm, that was, they were meant for someone else. Apologies, for any inconvenience caused."

When he stood up straight, the blond seemed hardly bothered, eyes a bit lidded as he scrutinized Gilbert, and then he merely said, "None caused. I imagine I know who they were meant for. What a shame, too, for you're very handsome."

Another furious burn of red, and Gilbert bowed yet again, uttering, "We'll take our leave. Farewell."

Gilbert grabbed Ludwig's hand and started leading him off, and the blond called from behind, "Ludwig! Keep coming to visit me, alright?"

Ludwig twisted his head back, and replied, so happily, "I will, Feliks!"

Gilbert tugged Ludwig along faster, and chided, "I didn't give you permission!"

Ludwig pouted.

"But I want to keep seeing Ms. Feliks! I like her a lot."

Gilbert held his tongue until they were out of the house and back onto the street, and then he leaned down and hissed to Ludwig, "That's not the right lady, Ludwig! The flowers were meant for the other lady!"

"But you said to give them to the pretty lady that lives in this house, and that's what I did."

Gilbert pursed his lips, furrowed his brow, and then he grumbled, "The other lady. She has dark hair, and pretty eyes. Did you not see her?"

"There wasn't another lady," Ludwig said, clenching Gilbert's hand. "Ms. Feliks is the only one. There's a man, though."

Gilbert's brow furrowed.

"A man? I haven't seen a man here."

"He has dark hair and pretty eyes, like you said. I don't know his name."

Gilbert fell silent, and contemplated. A man? Perhaps the man dressed as a lady and the lady dressed as a man. This bizarre household. Maybe the 'man' was the one he sought. From what he had just seen, Gilbert was willing to assume that anything was possible.

So, when they were back home, Gilbert pondered and pondered, and the next day he knelt down before Ludwig, gave him more flowers, and said, strictly, "Take these to that man, then. Understand?"

Ludwig beamed, and nodded, very happy to go be pampered some more.

Gilbert shook his head to himself as Ludwig scampered off. Was going to have that child beyond spoiled by the time he was done figuring out what was happening in that house.

It wouldn't be the first time he had seen a woman dress as a man, had spied more than a few, particularly ones who tried to work in masculine fields, but hadn't really expected to get himself into this very confusing situation. Ludwig was enamored with the wrong person, and Gilbert was no longer entirely certain who, exactly, he was wooing. A man or a woman?

Gilbert could only wait, and several hours later Ludwig returned, having been appropriately coddled and on that familiar sugar-high.

"Well?" Gilbert asked, expectantly. "Did you give them to the man?"

"Yes!" Ludwig affirmed, charging Gilbert furiously. Gilbert winced when Ludwig slammed into him, grabbing Ludwig's shoulders for balance. This child was going to be the death of him, he knew it, he was getting too old for this.

"Well? What did he say?"

Ludwig buried his face in Gilbert's stomach, pondering, and answered, "Um—! He didn't say anything."

That certainly sounded like his lady, and Gilbert was ever more confused. Could it really be?

Ludwig abandoned him to go play with the kitten, and Gilbert wracked him brain endlessly for a solution to this odd situation. Could only rely on Ludwig so much, really. A child could only do so much comprehensibly. It was time perhaps to just go over on his own and settle this matter once and for all.

Time to act.

Gilbert braced himself, gathered his courage, and the next day he preened himself quite nicely, dressed very well, and made off alone for that house.

No more tiptoeing.

He stood before the door that hid his target behind, and took a deep breath. He may have been pressing his bounds far too much this time, because Ludwig wasn't here. Just wanted to know at last what was happening and who was who, and so he finally cast aside all reason and etiquette and opened the door without even knocking, plunging inside.

Gilbert barging in like that unannounced startled someone standing upon a chair, perhaps dusting or some such, and when they twisted around in alarm to see who was intruding into their home, they slipped and tottered. Gilbert reacted instinctively, rushing forward and catching the person as they fell, finding himself with a very heavy figure held up in his arms like a damsel.

He knew instantly, looking into that face, that it was his damsel. Those eyes, remarkable as they were, were unmistakable. That greenish-blue, mottled with flecks of dark blue within, and very heavy lashes. One of a kind. A quick glance, however, and Gilbert quickly realized that his damsel was not only dressed as a man—he was a man. With his hair tied back, it was easier to see his sideburns, and with no dress his Adam's apple was very visible.

Gilbert sputtered, weakly, "Y-you—! Ah! You're, ah—"

The brunet in his arms was very calm, very collected, very stony and very blank, eyes lidded and brow high and looking perfectly condescending, and after a second he said, in a very smooth drawl, "Would you be so kind as to put me down, good sir?"

A smooth, pretty, attractive voice. Not quite as deep as his own, but warmer. Nice to listen to.

Gilbert opened his mouth, foundered, and very slowly and very carefully lowered the object of his very confused desires back to the ground.

All Gilbert managed to say then, mostly to himself, was, "So you can talk."

The man offered no response, straightened up tall, smoothed out his shirt, tidied his hair, and Gilbert was still staring at him quite intently, because, well...

Somehow, he was as beautiful as 'she' had been, because it was the same face of course, and those same pretty eyes. A long second of contemplation, and Gilbert realized rather quickly that he was still very much interested in pursuing this venture, because it would not have been the first time he had attempted to woo a man, although it certainly had never been a surprise before. He had seen stranger things than men in dresses, he supposed.

He opened his mouth, and meant to carry on exactly where he left off.

Was denied the chance, when the brunet finished preening and then very swiftly drew back his fist and punched Gilbert in the face.

That was the last Gilbert remembered for a few minutes.

Good lord! Had been hit a good many times, but never quite that hard.

The next thing he knew, he was outside on the porch, stars spinning and eye very sore. Had been very unceremoniously thrown out, and all Gilbert could really do was stagger clumsily to his feet and lurch dazedly on home.

Goodness—perhaps he was boxer. Certainly jabbed like one.

When he reached home and Ludwig saw his black eye, he just giggled. Gilbert sighed, threw himself on the couch, and writhed in misery as Ludwig came bounding forward and leapt so hard upon his chest that he knocked the wind right out of him.

Between Ludwig and that man, Gilbert very much felt that he was steadily losing his mind.

Ludwig, for his part, just smiled down at Gilbert, poked his black eye intrusively, and chirped, so cheerily, "I think they like me more."

Gilbert threw his hands over his face and groaned.

Toris had known that that child was trouble from the moment he had laid eyes upon him. In one manner or another.

Feliks, just like with everything else, had disagreed.

The very moment Feliks had seen that pale child, he had turned into an absolute puddle. Feliks had opened his arms immediately to Ludwig, had swept him up, and had never looked back. Feliks had taken to Ludwig instantly, had fallen for Ludwig's undeniable charms, and Toris had merely sighed as Feliks cooed endlessly to Ludwig and carried him about as a mother would. Ludwig, for his part, was always so happy to be paid attention to, clinging to Feliks and smiling away. Clearly a little charmer, alright, just like his apparent older brother.

When Ludwig was grown, he was going to be a menace to society, just like Gilbert.

When Ludwig had brought over flowers and handed them to Feliks, neither one of them had said a word to the child, but they both knew who the flowers were really meant for, and Feliks taunted him relentlessly. Toris had been disheartened, above all else, and felt quite low.

Felt like a deceiver, because Gilbert thought he was a woman.

Ludwig saw Toris walking by, and Toris could never say to the child that he was the one to whom Ludwig was meant to be going. So, in Toris' stead, Feliks had asked Ludwig question after question, and that was of course how Toris had learned Gilbert's name. Ludwig had nothing but grand things to say about his brother, but that was expected and Toris took it all very much with a grain of salt.

Had gotten a bit in over his head, and oh, seeing Gilbert like that, that was the most mortifying moment of his life, hands down, no question at all. Toris had been so certain, when it had all come to a head, that Gilbert would never stand outside again.

The day after he had punched Gilbert, Toris had stood out on the balcony, arms folded and head buried, and had wallowed in his self-pity. Gilbert would never come back, that was certain. Not only was Toris a man, but punching him in the face was surely a good deterrent. Hadn't exactly meant to punch him, precisely. He had merely felt vulnerable and put on the spot, and had knocked Gilbert out before Gilbert could panic.

A whistle from below forced Toris to lift his head, and Toris wondered who had been knocked out after all, because he was so certain that Gilbert was standing down there, as he always had before he had turned his little brother into a cupid.

Couldn't be.

Toris gawked down at Gilbert in shock, and Gilbert's black eye was visible from a mile away.

"Good evening," Gilbert called, hat in hand and eyes squinted a bit in what could have been pain. "I don't suppose you're ready to come on a walk with me? I know you can talk now, so no need for silence."

At long last, Toris spoke up, because, like Gilbert said, there was no longer any need not to.

"Why are you here?"

Gilbert held his arms out at his sides, saying, rather easily, "I thought I was making it obvious. You know, with all of the flowers and letters."

"Go away," Toris immediately griped, leaning over the balcony a bit to get a good glare in at Gilbert, that stubborn, stubborn fool.

"Only if you come down. But I would prefer if you didn't punch me again. I have a nice face. I don't really want it to be messed up."

The nerve!

"Have you nothing better to do?" Toris shot back, as Gilbert stared up at him.

A short laugh, and Gilbert reached up to smooth back his hair, and then he said, quite honestly, "Actually, no. I truly don't. I, uh, I rather like you a lot. Come walk with me."

"Was my punching you not a good enough answer?"

Unbelievable. This was truly unbelievable.

"You punching me made me like you more," Gilbert called, and Toris balked.

How was he always finding himself in these insane situations?

Wearily, Toris buried his face in his palms and moaned, "Go away."

"Alright," Gilbert conceded. "But I'll be back. Wait for me. I'll keep sending Ludwig over to charm you. No one can resist him. Or me, for that matter. We're perfect together, don't you know? You never stood a chance!"

With that, Gilbert bowed at the waist and was off, strutting away so arrogantly despite his black eye and Toris' rejection. Toris watched him go through narrowed eyes, and shook his head.

Ha! They would see who came out on top of this game.

Though...

To be fair, Toris' resolve wasn't quite as strong as his tongue.

And so now Toris stood out on the balcony every other night, arms folded and face blank, as Gilbert crept into his yard and tried very hard to coax him down onto the ground below. That black eye Toris had given him was clearly no deterrent, and with Ludwig running his older brother's errands on the days Gilbert didn't come, Toris hated to admit that he was actually being successfully wooed.

Blast!

After all, who could resist hearing pattering footsteps and looking up to see pale, bright Ludwig running at them with flowers? Even hard Toris smiled at that, and when Ludwig gave that bow and held the flowers out, Toris was as much of a puddle as he ever accused Feliks of being. Toris took the flowers dutifully, Ludwig beamed and seemed so pleased to be doing a good job, and then without fail Ludwig would abandon Toris in a flash to hunt down Feliks so that he could be coddled and adored.

Ah. What had he gotten himself into? If he had never agreed to model for Feliks, he wouldn't be in this position.

...was secretly glad he had caved in.

Feliks teased Toris relentlessly, and very often said, "If you refuse him, I shall gladly take your place, and then this will be my little brother, too." With that, he would press his cheek into Ludwig's and give him a very aggressive cuddle, and Ludwig just clung to Feliks' neck and didn't seem to care who, exactly, was in love with his brother. As long as Ludwig was being so relentlessly pampered, who would become his brother's partner made no difference to him.

When Ludwig came by with flowers and Feliks was gone, he stared up at Toris with those pretty, big eyes, and Toris would give a great sigh and immediately concede to the little darling, scooping Ludwig up and carting him around and giving him the affection he clearly felt he was entitled to. Spoiled little brat. Too adorable to resist.

No doubt that Ludwig reported dutifully back to Gilbert that Toris was cooperating nicely.

He was being run through a maze by this child, puppeteered by Gilbert, and was being led straight into Gilbert's arms. Admittedly, Toris wasn't fighting very hard against the tide.

And so when Ludwig came over one day, carrying a bouquet that was almost as large as he was and obviously quite heavy, Toris darted up to him and took it quickly from him before he tripped and fell. When it was set aside, Ludwig looked up at Toris, and said, "My brother asks that you please meet him downstairs tonight at precisely the stroke of six. He says he wishes to take you on a romantic walk about the town."

Feliks appeared from behind, and gave a dramatic sigh, teasing Toris lowly.

"Romantic! Ah! Who could resist? What a man. Of course Toris will go!"

Toris snapped his head over to glare at Feliks for having the gall to answer in Toris' stead, but clearly that answer was accepted by Ludwig, because, as always, he ran straight away from Toris and leapt into Feliks' waiting arms.

Toris shook his head, and turned his eyes to the huge bouquet. Where did Gilbert get all of these flowers? Either had an enormous garden or an even larger wallet. Or both, more likely, from his manner of dress.

Toris hid himself quickly away in his room, pacing back and forth nervously, and several hours later when Ludwig had left to give Gilbert the reply, Feliks knocked on his door and crept inside, sitting cheerily upon his bed and leering away.

"So! Have a date, do we? I admit I'm desperately envious."

"Don't be," Toris tossed back. "He's the worst! Truly. Was there ever a more arrogant, audacious, presumptuous, rude—"

"Handsome, charming, well-to-do gentleman, why no! There never was."

Toris glared for all he was worth at Feliks, but Feliks had long since built up immunity to it, and merely looked Toris up and down.

"Make sure you wear your best clothing. I have a feeling he's going to come out blazing."

Oh, no doubt of that.

Toris went into a bit of a panic then, fretting and fussing over himself, feeling so foolish and yet so excited, torn this way and that. Wanted so desperately to go and at the same time never wanted to see Gilbert again. He was losing his mind, he was sure of it.

He washed his face, tied back his hair and smoothed every strand, shaved and preened, as Feliks always hovered nearby and offered advice, and his 'best' clothing wasn't anywhere up to par with anything Gilbert owned, for sure, but it was all he could do. Still, despite it all, he didn't look half bad, if he did say so himself. A dark green over shirt above a white button down and black slacks. Nothing fancy at all, but at least he had nice shoes. His cravat was immaculate.

Feliks gave him a long look over, and nodded his head approvingly.

"I had almost forgotten how handsome you can be when you actually try."

Toris rolled his eyes and sighed, pacing a bit as he waited for the hour.

Was feeling quite ill by then with anticipation.

Feliks had wandered off long ago, up to who knew what.

Ludwig showed up at a quarter to six, was dressed quite formally, and Toris tried so hard to suppress a smile at the sight of him. Looked like a little prince, dressed up in Prussian blue and white, a little flower in his breast pocket, pants tucked into high white boots and hair combed back. Oh, god, Feliks was going to shriek at the sight of him like that.

He held out more flowers, and, as always, Toris accepted them with a smile. Ludwig was very happy to be there, and popped up on his toes to look for Feliks.

Toris studied him, and asked him, "Is your brother dressed like this, too?"

Ludwig twisted this way and that, restlessly, and said, "He looks nicer!"

Oh, no—

And then from behind came a very loud, strangled noise of delight, as Toris had expected. Feliks came rushing forward, and although he was dressed as a man then with his hair tied back, Ludwig didn't seem to really notice or care, because Feliks was just Feliks to the child, who paid no attention to clothing perhaps. Ludwig was just thrilled to see Feliks, however he looked.

Feliks knelt down on one knee, reached out to pinch Ludwig's cheek, and he crooned, eagerly, "Look at you! Oh, how handsome you are! You look just like a little prince, doesn't he, Toris?"

"My thoughts exactly," Toris replied.

Ludwig was puffed out, smiling as wide as was possible, looking very much like his brother then, proud and pompous and self-satisfied. Toris snorted at that, rolled his eyes, and knew that Ludwig really was going to be quite the handful when he was a man.

Feliks fawned over Ludwig, and then suddenly the clock struck the hour, and Ludwig grabbed Toris' hand, saying, so sternly, "I shall walk you down to my brother."

Feliks made another sound of what was either intense delight or a death-rattle.

Eh. Toris would have been embarrassed if he hadn't been so utterly enchanted then, being walked outside by a small child dressed up like that, to be led to a man who had been persistently attempting to seduce him for months on end.

Surreal.

There, at the end of the walk and beside the street, stood Gilbert, posture perfect and one hand behind his back. Looked rather more like a soldier then than a nobleman, the way he held himself. If little Ludwig looked like a prince, then Gilbert looked quite like a general in that moment. Dressed in the same colors as Ludwig, but more elaborately, cufflinks shining in the lowering sun and white gloves upon his hands. A double-breasted overcoat that was very flashy but that must have also been quite too warm. Like Ludwig, he wore high white boots. Perfect glitzy twins. Ludwig delivered Toris to Gilbert very seriously, focused intently on his task. Gilbert smirked a little at Ludwig, a very odd adoring sort of sneer that Toris had never seen, and when Gilbert bowed at Ludwig, Ludwig bowed back and then stood watchfully by.

Toris was a breath away from dying from overload of emotion, but held himself well, face as blank as ever and stance stiff. Felt so underdressed, though.

Gilbert turned away from Ludwig and towards Toris, observed him, and said, quite eagerly, "I knew I'd get you down from that balcony."

To save his pride as best he could, Toris lifted his chin and said, coolly, "I came down for Ludwig. I mistook him for a lost royal."

Gilbert expanded very proudly then, very happy to receive praise on how he presented his sibling, and Toris nearly cracked and smiled.

From the door, Feliks called, hopefully, "Ludwig! Shall you be my date tonight until your brother returns?"

Ludwig nearly squealed, but stifled it at the last second to look up at Gilbert pleadingly, those pale eyes big and charming. Gilbert foundered immediately, as anyone would, and said, lowly, "Alright, alright. Go on."

Ludwig cried out happily and wasted no time in bounding back over to Feliks who scooped him up and held him there atop his hip until they were out sight, as Gilbert began leading Toris along.

Toris had prepared himself for the worst, being alone like this in Gilbert's clutches, but as it turned out Gilbert was actually extremely well-behaved, though that was likely from being in a public setting as they walked about town.

Gilbert chattered endlessly about absolutely nothing, and Toris only heard a fraction of what he had said at all and yet was fairly certain he had missed nothing of import. They walked all over the town until the sun had set and night had come, and then Gilbert led him to the park, where they sat upon a bench. Gilbert was still blabbering away, gesturing with his hands exuberantly as he spoke, and Toris just nodded dumbly away, taking in nothing and yet so mesmerized by Gilbert.

Gilbert only stopped talking, come to think, when he suddenly reached out and put an arm over Toris' shoulders, and that was likely only because he was waiting to see if he was going to be punched again.

Ah—

Toris decided that his pride could take a corner, just this once. They were alone, after all, and it was rather dark. Just them and the stars. No need to save face.

When Toris leaned sideways and rested his head on Gilbert's shoulder, he could practically feel Gilbert expanding ever more in pride. Was going to explode at any moment for sure, but then at least he would shut up.

A long comfortable while of sitting there like that, as Gilbert's voice lowered into a quieter murmur, and when it was time to go back, Gilbert was quick to jump up so that he could extend his hand to Toris. The first instinct was to slap it away, having been so emasculated by Feliks for months on end, but, well, Gilbert was charming.

Once more, Toris folded, and accepted his hand.

He was walked home, and Gilbert's chin was held very high. When they returned and were on the porch, Ludwig came out, looked back and forth between them, and smiled.

When he looked at Toris, Ludwig said, happily, "Thank you for not hitting Gilbert again! He was really sad last time. I thought he was going to cry—"

Toris lidded his eyes and sneered at Gilbert, who burned red and leaned over to flick Ludwig's ear smartly. Ludwig pouted, and Toris realized that maybe he could turn little Ludwig into a weapon as well. Two could play that game, apparently.

Ludwig rubbed at his ear crankily as Gilbert very quickly grumbled a goodnight and then tried to drag Ludwig away. Toris watched them go, knowing he looked very condescending in that moment, as Gilbert hissed quietly at stomping Ludwig.

But then, there at the edge of the walk, Gilbert fell still, as if in thought.

Uh oh. Should have run inside the moment he had had a chance.

At the very last second, Gilbert turned on his heel, came stalking back up to Toris, reached out and grabbed Toris by the arm and yanked him in until they were chest to chest. A very heated stare, and then Gilbert rumbled, deeply, "Don't you dare punch me again." Before Toris could think of anything to say, Gilbert had already kissed him, and quite furiously.

Ludwig gasped, and covered his eyes with his hands.

A long, breathless moment, and when Gilbert pulled back, his eyes ran over Toris' face and his voice was very low when he muttered, "Tomorrow night, we'll have a more private date. I trust that, ah, Ms. Feliks can watch Ludwig for the night."

Entranced and dumbfounded, Toris just nodded his head.

Satisfied, Gilbert let go of his arm and tromped off, having clearly had his ego pricked by Ludwig's comment.

Toris watched them go once more, Gilbert dragging giggling Ludwig, and felt quite dazed. He wandered inside, sat down at the kitchen table with Feliks, and stared off into space.

"Well? How did it go? You didn't throw him over the bridge, did you?"

"Not this time," Toris murmured, still quite in a trance.

"Success, then. You look like you've seen a ghost. I suppose in this instance that's a good sign?"

Dumbly, Toris just replied, "Guess so."

Out in space.

Feliks waved his hand in the air, scoffed, and said, so airily, "My date was far better."

Quite dreamily, Toris just muttered, "I have no doubt."

A while later, Feliks said, "When you move in with him, bring me along, won't you. I shall gladly act as Ludwig's caretaker, so that you two can cross the world entire in your little love daze."

That sounded phenomenal.

Toris was already planning out his role in Gilbert's life, although he was certainly never going to admit it. Would go to his grave denying that he was absolutely taken with that brash fool. It was much easier to merely pretend that Ludwig had charmed him, that was all. Toris just wanted to make sure the child was well taken care of, as he had no parents and was being raised by a pompous, arrogant, egotistical cad. That was all. Nothing more, nothing less. Certainly.

No one would know that he lied in bed that night, pillow clenched to his chest and smiling stupidly at the wall, replaying the day over and over in his head.

Couldn't wait for tomorrow night.

Feliks' hobby had been the best thing that had ever happened to Toris.