I Don't Believe It's There: PruCan

Oxi clean

Gilbert's (Prussia's) POV

"You look exhausted," cooed France, "Poor thing."

"First, don't call me a 'thing'. Second, I'm fine," I snapped.

Spain frowned, "Are you sure you're okay Prussia? You aren't acting like yourself."

I blinked realizing how crabby
I was. After the little pause, I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair, "Sorry guys, I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

We were hanging out at the bar, sipping some beer around the warm fireplace. Romano was gone somewhere, so we brought lonely Spain to keep company. Honestly, I was about to turn them down, being absolutely exhausted with work. It's been tough lately in my country. France eventually had convinced me to come over, which didn't take much. We were the Bad Touch Trio after all: we stuck together.

I earned disapproved looks from the two. "You really should take care of yourself Prussia," France's golden brows ceased in a frown, "It's worrisome."

I waved it off, taking a swig from my beer, "Ahhh I'm fine. It was just one night I couldn't get to bed. I'll get some sleep this night." I shot a glare at the brunette and blonde, "If you two let."

Spain chuckled, "What do you mean Prussia? We never keep you up, you keep us up."

"Real funny Spain." I sneered, "But at least I don't go to bed with a plate full of Churros every night."

He winked, flashing a happy go lucky grin, "Only if Roma's the one offering them."

I couldn't help but to snicker. We all knew how attached the Spaniard and Italian have grown, Romano just needed to be reminded every once in a while. Of course nothing 'romantic' has happened between them, despite the feelings; well, as far as me and France knew.

Speaking of France, I haven't heard much on his love life. I know he's been around and about with other nations, but that's just France. He's always in search for love. Why is it that the people who want it the least have an... easier time discovering it? Hell if I know, but I know one thing. France wasn't going to find love by sleeping around with everyone. Even with his reputation, I wouldn't call the Frenchman a pervert. He's just misunderstood. Hell, even I don't understand what he's doing when I see him blowing kisses to the maid at world meetings or subtly flirting with other women at the bar.

France spoke up, "Oi Spain, why haven't you made a move on the Italian anyway?"

Spain laughed, "You think I haven't tried? You know how Romano is."

"All he needs is a little encouragement," France offered, "Maybe a little wine would help."

"Que!? I wouldn't feed wine to my little Roma!" Spain shook his head, "Especially not for that reason."

"He'll naturally come around Spain," I patted the brunettes back, "I mean, judging by how he was clinging to you at Austria's dinner party..."

"You think?" Spain eyes shone with slight hope.

"Especially with wine!"

I playfully shoved the blonde, "I said naturally, you wine bastard!"

France pouted, "Who says wine isn't natural?"

We all exchanged glances. Well, it was pretty natural. As we began discussing wine, a pain slowly began to grow in my head. I became very aware of all the noises from other chatting people and the bright flickering light of the fire. It only made my headache grow and me more grouchier.

In the end, I had to excuse myself and go home. "Hey guys, I'm gonna go home. I'm not feeling too well."

France and Spain looked at me like I had just grown a penis out of my forehead.

"See, I told you he wasn't feeling well, Spain!" France ranted, "Something's not right."

Spain nodded, "Well, he is saying he's not feeling well. Do you need a ride home?"

I shook my head, rubbing my temples, "I'll be fine."

They wished me luck and I left the bar, stepping out into the pouring rain. I realized , I did need a ride home with my uncoordinated footsteps and throbbing headache. No way in hell was I going back in that place though, so I ended up wandering down the street, my boots splashing in the growing puddles. Anywhere but there was a better place to be. Somewhere quieter.

Honestly I didn't know why I was in such a terrible mood. Even with so much work, I wouldn't normally be so... bitchy. Yup. That's the word. I don't think I've ever been this crabby to the point where I'd snap at my friends. Not even after the time when Germany was a child and he took out all of the jars of jelly I had stored for winter and smeared them all over the kitchen from boredom. I was infuriated, but only for about ten seconds. I grumbled about finding different food for winter, but it was okay because we ended up living off bread and potatoes that year. Not too bad if I do say so myself.

I'm glad Germany had grown up well. Big, strong, and well disciplined. He had his low points, like socializing and lightening up, but he turned out so well. I'm happy for that. However, I feel like one day I won't be there for him anymore. He's very independent, but when he comes for help, I do everything in my power to help. Everything then turns out perfectly and he's happy again. One day, I'll have to leave him on his own. One day, I won't be there for him. One day, I won't be able to protect him. I'm dreading that day.

A familiar face popped into my head. Golden locks of hair, electric blue eyes, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His cute little cheeks and adorable curl. Matthew. He's someone I love too. What would happen to him if I just disappeared? Would he be sad? Would he grieve?

"Gil! What're you doing here?" My thoughts were broken into by the familiar soft voice. Matthew was frowning. "Its raining! Where's your coat?"

I gazed at the Canadian who just approached me. His small hands were clutching an umbrella, his hair stuck to his forehead from the rain and his eyebrows furrowed together in concern. Would he miss me? Me head wasn't the only thing in pain. My heart ached for him. For Matthew. I small tinge of doubt stirred deep in my heart. I had no idea if he loved me. For all I knew, this could be one sided, just like any other love I ever had. It could be one sided...

My hands found their way around Matthew. I held him tightly, clutching onto the person I loved. I loved his smile, I loved his sweet syrup smell. I loved the way he pushed up his glasses occasionally. I loved the few little freckles on his shoulders. I loved when he fusses over me. I know he cares, but is it the same way that I'd care for him?

"Uh-Uhm Gil?" He was confused, but sighed when he realized, "Are you drunk?"

"I missed you," I whispered, unable to say anything else.

He wrapped his arms around my back. "This isn't even close to the longest we've been apart."

Do you love me? I wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer. We didn't say anything else as we hugged under the umbrella. I was soaking wet, drunk, and acting strangely, but Matthew didn't complain.

When we finally let go, Matthew took my hand and smiled, "Let's get you home."

I'm so sorry guys, I skipped a couple days of posting. Unfortunately, I got really caught up with work, taking 3 AP courses and such. They're really stressful y'know? A lot crap is happening right now so I apologize for the lack of updates.

Also, Happy Halloween!