(A/N): Own Hetalia, I do not
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Matthew's POV:
After the course of five minutes, Matthew had opened the door, signaling that it was safe to enter, if anyone were to wish to do so.
Much to his shock, Gilbert came barreling in almost instantly, holding long-forgotten blankets.
"Hey birdie!" He gave off an overly-excited wave. "I'm guessing you don't feel too hot right now, but fear not, I have wARMTH!" The crescendo embedded with his voice caused the Canadian to jump, but he smiled nonetheless.
"Thanks, that was very thoughtful of you," is what he WOULD have said, if his words weren't interrupted by a fit of coughs.
"Ew, the dying," Gilbert shot a look of faux disgust, but quickly wiped it away and went to the others aid. "I'm just kidding, of course, if you were ACTUALLY dying I'd be hella sad."
"Hella?" Matthew raised an eyebrow. Gilbert nodded solemnly, getting the little Canadian marshmallow to the bed he was SUPPOSED to be in.
"Why'd ya do that, if I may ask," Gilbert asked, his question as vague as his train of thought.
"I'm not sure how to answer that."
"You know, jump off of the cliff and all that jazz."
"Okay, first of all "jazz"? Really Gilbert?" He shook his head in fake disappointment. "Secondly, I did not jump, I tripped, shit happens."
"But why would you go after some dog that you didn't even know?"
"Well I'm sorry I didn't talk with it over coffee before trying to save it, how unformal of me."
"That's not what I mean and you know it," Gilbert grumbled, but Matthew knew he wasn't actually upset, for he wouldn't have a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Well...."
"I'll bite you."
"It... kinda sorta reminded me of you..." Matthew looked away, his face almost as red as Gilbert's eyes.
"I remind you of a dog?" Gilbert clutches his chest, feigning pure heartbreak.
"It was more the other way around," he replied. "It was probably its fur, in all honesty."
"Well if I'm such a CHORE!"
"Gilbert, what are you talking about?" The albino shrugged, before moving closer to his companion.
"Share some of those blankets, will you?" He teased, yanking a quilt from the top of the blanket. Matthew then proceeded to lay out the blankets so they were positioned ontop of the two of them, sheilding them from the oncoming cold.
"You're going to get sick if you lay there, you know that, right?"
"A little cold never hurt anyone," he replied. "Now sleep, or I'll bite you."
"Why must everything be so physical with you?" Gilbert merely wiggled his eyebrows, before getting under the large mound of blankets that Matthew had been assembling.
"You weren't complaining last night, now we're you?" Matthew laughed at Gilbert's failed attempt at a suggestive joke, before allowing the warmth of the blankets to lull him to sleep.
'What's going on in that head of yours, Gilbert Beilschmidt?'
Meanwhile~
"C'mon, let's go see if Mattie's wearing stuff yet," Alfred told the others, who were -thankfully- no longer fighting.
"Oh what a way you have with words, Mr. Jones," Arthur replied, but standing up nevertheless. The frenchman followed suit, leading the others to the guest bedroom Matthew was currently located at. When they got to the room, they were greeted by the sight of Matthew holding on to Gilbert's middle, his face buried in the other's chest. Gilbert, on the other hand, had his arms wrapped around the other male, in a somewhat protective fashion.
"Oh..." gasped the Frenchman.
"My...." muttered the brit.
"GILBERT!" whisper-shouted the American, not wanting to wake up his brother. This would not turn out well for the Albino, oh no.
No
It
Would
Not.
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(A/N): Well hello ;w;
I'm not going to leave, I never leave, I lurk within the shadows, haunting your dreams, and..... fuck.
Bye!
