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It was curious, really; He never understood what it was that Antonio liked so much about this violent pipsqueak to go as far as nearly losing his limbs for it. Honestly, it left him irritated at times. It was annoying to watch the both of them interact like their seemingly, "unconditional" relationship was the most natural thing in the world.
The little “prince ” would screech and complain and Antonio would take its temper with a saintly patience, explaining to the little one time and time again what it ought to know by now but refused to acknowledge for Gott knows what childish reason. Sometimes it would listen but more often than not it would throw a fit and stalk off with a face the colour of those cursed fruits the both of them loved to eat so much. Antonio would then hurriedly apologise to his visitors before galloping after the little monster for a good scolding session. He almost seemed excited about the entire push and pull dynamic.
Ridiculous.
Let the brat cool off somewhere, if he doesn’t understand it by now he never will. Leave it to its own devices then. Or, in the worst case, beat it up. Him and Ludwig got beaten often as children and look at them now… well, Ludwig was doing really well right now so…
Needless to say, Gilbert was not very good with children. His friends would often joke that he himself was still a child on the inside. As if they could compare his awesome self to those useless little Parasiten. Aside from a few incredibly awesome exceptions, Gilbert was not fond of children. This specimen in particular, made his blood boil. Lazy, hot-tempered, childish, prideful, dishonest, violent, … he could keep going on, einfach unglaublich. He could forgive flaws in people, if they had redeeming qualities to make up for it. Itachan, for instance, might be a dreamer, naive in his innocence, but at least he was cute. Even though there were numerous words to describe one of his best friends’ protégés “cute” was not one of them.
Cute? Hah, baby chicks are cute, two puppies playing with a kitten are cute, Ita-chan’s cute (seriously Süß). But this one… this one kicks, and bites and screams; one single word could make him throw a fit. Give him a broom and expect nothing but destruction. Give him something to deliver and no doubt will it get lost or end up broken; deliberately or not, Lovino Vargas was a complete disaster. Why other countries desired him so, was beyond him.But Gilbert was not one to meddle much. Sure, he would complain (loudly) if he disliked something and show his dissatisfaction. But he would never force his friends into thinking differently. If his friends said “no” then to Gilbert that simply meant “no.” He frankly had enough of all the patronising in his family’s history, so he choose to play along and observe instead…
Uh… Observe… right? So… why, in the name of dem Herrn was he sitting at a table, all alone, with the little troublemaker? How did he get himself into this situation again? He couldn’t even be bothered to rack his brain for it. All that mattered was to keep this disaster company until someone else would take him off his hands, hopefully soon at that. And so they were sat facing each other at a far too small table in a luxuriously decorated lounging room. Awkward couldn’t even describe the atmosphere. Gilbert’s usual grinning face had fallen into a frown full of disdain. He had no intention, whatsoever, to make this experience pleasant for either of them. Lovino’s usual fierce frown was replaced with a hesitant one that looked like it could change into a crying face any second now… he was terribly bad at handling these type of situation, but he didn’t cry just yet.
Half an hour ticked by. Gilbert got bored. He leaned forward a little gauging the child’s reaction. Lovino, obviously uncomfortable with the entire setup, would shift in his seat whenever Gilbert moved. Ah, so he was a classical Italian. A big mouth when he felt comfortable and safe but when faced directly with real “danger” he would lower his eyes to the ground and tremble like a leaf. Gilbert couldn’t stand this kind of pathetic display of unawesomeness. No matter how unimportant his existence had gradually become over the years and no matter how utterly nuts he sometimes acted he still had his principles and pride. Those were the gears that kept him going and reminded him who he once was and who he is right now. Watching someone not even trying and just choosing to wail in self-pity instead only irritated him.
He started drumming on the table with his fingers, his right hand was supporting his chin and his left played the beat to a march he vaguely remembered from his old days. The child who had been extorting his best efforts to look anywhere, except for at the other’s face, suddenly had his eyes fixated on Gilbert’s hands. With his gloves off and his left hand positioned right under the lamp hanging above the table, his skin looked like it was glowing white. Lovino felt that if he blinked he would miss something important, so he stared at Gilber’s drumming fingers, shaking his right leg under the table at a slightly faster pace. Gilbert let his head roll to the right, leaning a little more into his right hand. Lovino did not shift this time as he was too taken by the steady drum of Gilbert’s ghostly pale hands. What was the little one so interested in? Did he want to hold hands or something? Did he feel lonely? Gott, anything he would have though to be adorable if it were coming from Itachan felt disgusting and clingy when it came from Lovino. He drummed at a more aggressive pace and watched as Lovino started to silently do the same thing with his fingers on the table. Gilbert tried a slower pattern, Lovino followed suit. So the kid had a feel for rhythm, huh? Shouldn’t have expected any less from Itachan’s older brother. Though he was probably not as good at it as Itachan. How can those two faces be so similar and the person under the skin be so different? Gilbert didn’t notice that he had started to stare.
Lovino, who had been occupied with his little game of copying Gilbert’s movements noticed and looked up. 2 ruby eyes in a marble face were blankly staring back at him. Gilbert’s eyes had a little shine to them, as if they had soaked in blood for a good whole day before being polished for display. It sent a shiver through Lovino’s spine. What if this man was a vampire? Wait, hold up what IF?? What the F*CK was that *SSHOLE Spain doing leaving him alone with a f*CKING BLOODSUCKER? If he DIED or turned because of this he would come back from the dead to f*cking kill Spain, that piece of sh*t!!! His leg started to shake more violently as his previously tomato red face paled.
Gilbert noticed and sighed. Letting his eyes roam away from him did not seem to calm the child down. If the little one started crying here he would be the one in trouble… Another sigh. Suddenly an idea hit him. He propped his left hand up on his index and middle finger so it looked like a little creature with two legs. Lovino glanced at it. Slowly he made the little hand-creature walk over the table. As intended Lovino’s full attention was back to his hand. He made the creature jump and skip, he made it meet another hand creature by making his other hand join. The two white hand creatures walked over to Lovino’s side of the table, nudging Lovino’s darker, olive tone hands as if to wake them up. A little hesitant at first, Lovino made his right hand walk towards the two Gilbert-hand-creatures. With a little piece of paper crumpled into a ball they started to play hand-creature football. Anything was better than boredom. Gilbert made his team act like true football diva’s, exaggerating their movements as they ran towards the goal in slow-motion to then make them trip over an invisible stone on the field. This particular scene earned a small giggle from Lovino.
Giggle...?
They both looked up. Gilbert, surprised by the sound and the expression he had not noticed on Lovino until now, Lovino, surprised by the sound he had made which had broken the silence up till then. As on reflex both his hands covered his mouth, as if he had said something terribly rude and insulting.
Gilbert raised an eyebrow and let the corners of his mouth up just a tiny bit revealing his sharp canines to a nervous Lovino. Lovino gasped. “So you are a vampire?!” he blurted out before his brain could hold him back. Soon he covered his face with both his palms, ready to push out his eyes, he groaned out loud “STUPIDO, IDIOTA DEL CAZZO HE’LL BE SO F*CKING MAD!!” What he didn’t expect was the rich sound of laughter rumbling out of Gilbert’s throat. The texture of his voice was incredibly rough, a little like deep gritted sandpaper on wood. “Is that why you didn’t try to call me by all those colourful terms of endearment you have for Antonio?” Gilbert was smirking. Lovino was frowning at the table “N….N..No. I was just thinking. F*ck I mean… w… why are you so f*cking white… stu… sir.. Mister potato-freak?”
Gilbert seemed to not mind the name-calling. Either he was used to it by now or he decided to ignore it for the sake of the conversation.
“Well why is your hair brown? Same f*cking question isn’t it pipsqueak?” he crossed his arms and leaned back a little to observe the effect of his words. Lovino frowned at the nickname. “I’m not a pipsqueak!” he retorted through his teeth, his previous nervousness slowly melting away.“Oh, are you not? Then what makes you something else than a pipsqueak?” asked Gilbert, slightly amused.
He had never bothered to engage the younger one directly; it was a different experience to be in the line of the little one’s fire instead of watching from the sidelines. But it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. It did seem as if the kid knew his place. He seemed to be quite sensitive and considerate of who he was talking to before hurling his creative insults around.
Gilbert decided that he could appreciate this. Blind hacking is what he hated, mindless following is what he despised but a tactician’s mind, he appreciated that above all else. And what needs more strategy than organised chaos? Nothing. Right. He seemed to be on the same page as the kid there.
“Well I have a lot of important jobs that I need to do for sh*thead Spain!” argued Lovino. “Aha, well, calling your parent a ‘sh*thead’ just proves you’re still a pipsqueak though?” rang Gilbert’s voice with a slightly teasing melody to it. “A… I DIDN’T SAY SH*THEAD I SAID Spainhead!” tried Lovino again. “Spainhead Spain? You sure you can speak English?” asked Gilbert now clearly enjoying teasing the kid. “CAUSE THERE IS NOTHING WORSE THAN LOOKING LIKE A SPAIN!!” blurted Lovino in an attempt to save face. This earned another round of laughter from Gilbert. “Tell you what kid, that’s actually funny!!” “I, I don’t care about being funny!” Lovino was blushing now, upon closer inspection it was clear that he was pleased to be complimented by someone besides Antonio, regardless of his vehement denial of basically any positive emotions ever.
That was the moment a light switch seemed to have jumped on in Gilbert’s brain.
“I see, Antonio you clever rascal.” he chuckled darkly.
“W…What are you laughing at you potato-jerk?” Lovino was softly shaking his fists, he had probably assumed Gilbert was making fun of him “Y… your hand game was way weirder than anything I said today!!” “Oh did you like that game?” asked Gilbert with a wider grin. “I MEAN!!! I DIDN’T PARTICULARLY WHO EVEN CARES!! STUPIDO IT WAS ALL STUPIDO!!” Lovino had jumped up from his seat and was now yelling to make a point. Gilbert had his palms on his ears. “Jesus, pipe it down Mein Gott, did they make you swallow a megaphone or what?” At that Lovino frowned again and adjusted his volume ever so slightly, enough for it to still grate Gilbert’s nerves but not too much “I didn’t like it! I just played along because you seemed lonely!”
He thought he could push a button with that blow, maybe he was regretting his words... just a tiny bit. What he didn't expect, however, was Gilbert's casual reply.
“Kesesese that’s true! Being by myself IS the best after all!!”
Lovino’s jaw dropped. That's not what he... “No, no that’s wrong! Being alone is sh*t!!” Lovino waved his arms frantically. Did he hurt him? Did he break something again? “When you are as awesome as me it doesn’t really matter!” shrugged Gilbert. “But what about Spainhead Spain and that perverted rose b*stard?!” demanded Lovino “they are always worr…worried about your potato-jerk ass and sh*t.” he finished with an awkward gesture towards the lamp above their heads, not really knowing where he had wanted to go with that.Gilbert chuckled again, he lifted one of his hands to ruffle Lovino’s hair, taking advantage of the kid’s shock to retract his hand before he could be bitten or slapped.“You’re not that bad after all, are you? Not as cute as Itachan. But I guess you are more of an challenge! That's awesome!” Lovino didn’t know what to think of those words or how to react to them, so he sat back down on his chair.
Silence fell again.
Gilbert was doing something under the table. Lovino’s leg was restlessly shaking again. Then something small fell in the middle of the table. Gilbert had dropped something. It was a small ball of crumpled paper. His hand-creatures were standing in front of their makeshift goal, talking in strangely pitched voices to Lovino’s hands. “This time you will not win South-Italy!” they taunted. Lovino’s hands were quick to jump to action “Don’t even think you have a chance Prussia, you potato eating b*stards!” belowed Lovino. Prussia, huh? Not Germany nor East... Guess he began to understand just a little bit what it was about Lovino that Antonio liked so much.
Lovino was not someone to decipher from the side-lines; he was someone to experience. More than anyone was he sensitive to hurt and anger. More than anyone would he explore his boundaries, sometimes aggressively reckless, sometimes tentatively, always in a desperate search for someone, something… It was endearing. Not exactly “Süß”, no. What would this be called in English again... precious? Prussia nodded to himself. Always the poet. That discovery was more than enough redemption for any of his lack of... well, lack of nearly ever- “Ouch!!” did the little Hitzkopf just kick him under the table to steal the ball away? Okay, maybe there was never enough redemption for his lack of manners! Gilbert kicked him right back.”CHIGIii!!” his red eyes caught some of the light from the lamp and twinkled. But that was just fine, wasn't it?
It was then and there that Gilbert realised that he wouldn't mind sacrificing all of his limbs for that little pips-… little prince after all. Another giggle rang, accompanied by an obnoxiously raspy voice anouncing one or the other in response, this time neither of them allowed for a time-out...