Typical College Morning [Prussia x Reader]

Typical College Morning

I groggily trudged down the hallway to the cafe of my college. To say that I was exhausted at this moment would be an understatement. It all started when my bastard of a best friend, Alfred, begged me to be the designated driver for him and his friends yesterday. It took a lot of ramen and convincing, but I agreed. When we got to the club, I mainly browsed Tumblr, courtesy of a rather kind barman who understood my situation and gave me his phone for the night. I left the party at around three in the morning with a headache from Satan himself, dragging Alfred and his drunken friends along. The fact that they were loud as hell and made my headache worse every second wasn't the worst thing of the ride. We got pulled over by a police officer because some douchebag decided to crawl out of the sunroof of my poor Acura RDX, which I had to clean today. I spent at least half an hour convincing the officer to let us go. He did, thankfully, and I drove to the dorm safely. Taking no more of the group's shit, I made them get to their rooms on their own and went to bed at half past five. Now I was only in my sweatpants, sweat shirt and vans, heading to the cafe with a bowl of ramen. I didn't have a particular reason to eat outside of my room, but I had classes in half an hour and needed to get used to people and the light.

When I got to the cafe, there weren't many people there. There were about five or six people in the cafe, because everyone who had afternoon classes slept in, and the rest were in class. I walked up to the microwave and poured water in the ramen, heating it up afterwards. As I waited, I scanned the room. The people present weren't exactly paying any attention to me, as this was a rather common sight. There were a few students who were typing away with a few cans of Red Bull sacked around them. There was a girl who was browsing Tumblr, since sometimes the WiFi was the best at the cafe. There was even a guy who was sleeping on the couches: he looked like one of the people I drove to and from the party. But there was also another guy, with white hair and tired red eyes, in an outfit resembling mine. He walked up to where I was, the 'heating table' as it was called. He took out a cup with dissolvable coffee and poured some of the hot water i heated up earlier. He looked too familiar, I knew that he went to the party with Alfred yesterday, but I couldn't put a finger to who he exactly was. Meanwhile, he stirred the coffee and took a sip, revealing a tattoo on his collarbone that said "Gott mins uns". I immediately recognized the tattoo and the guy.

"Hey, you're the asshole that almost got me a ticket." I narrowed my eyes at him and he turned to me.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, pleased to meet you." He did a fake bow with a smile.

"You're lucky I talked us out of it, or else your whole friend group would be paying." I crossed my arms.

"But that didn't happen, did it?" Gilbert smirked and looked at the plastic bowl, "Your ramen is done."

"I'm aware." I shot him a glare and opened the ramen, "And you're in the afternoon classes, I suppose?"

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't be here. I actually want a decent career after uni, you know?" He smirked and took a sip of his coffee.

"Yet you're climbing up out of random people's sunroofs." I picked up some ramen with a plastic fork and took a bite. Delicious as always. Yakisoba never failed me.

"And may I know your name? Or is that presented only to people who don't fuck up your car?" I glared at him, mouth stuffed with Teriyaki ramen.

"I'm (F/N) (L/N). Major in international studies and giving zero fucks."

"Oh my, do you major in roasting people, too?" Gilbert chuckled. I was using all energy in my body to keep myself from slamming the ramen in his face.

"I wish I did, but do you perhaps major in annoying people who drive you home when you're drunk off your ass?" I placed my hand on my hip.

"Nope. European history. I'm from Berlin, so it's pretty easy for me." Now that he said that, I noticed the slight accent in his voice. But you couldn't even spot it at first glance.

"Sounds really cool. I'm from (city), which is in (country)." I replied. Considering that this university was in Britain, the fact that we were both from different countries was pretty ironic.

"Remind me to go there once I finish this bloody semester." The German sighed, his carefree expression leaving his face, "The only reason I'm even here is to get a decent degree and make money. My family isn't too rich, and I have a brother who's fourteen back in Germany. I really want him to go to university as well."

"I'm sure you'll make it. And your brother too. I hope him the best. Europe's education isn't the greatest right now, so it must be hard." I remembered my own education, and comparing it to the current one, it was the best thing a student could have.

"Anyway, do you do anything in your spare time? Sports or work, maybe?" Gilbert sat down on a nearby chair, and I followed him, setting my ramen down.

"I take shooting lessons, and I edit works for the local newspaper. I write too." I responded for once proud of what I do.

"Wow, so you're a badass writer-editor who shoots guns. I don't know if I should be afraid or happy." The German laughed.

"I might go back to (country) and join the army if this whole thing doesn't work out. My family has connections, so I should be fine." I smirked.

"I should definitely be afraid now." Gilbert raised his hands in defense in a sarcastic manner.

"Anyway, what do you do?" I asked, and fiddled with the remains of my ramen.

"I play sports, a lot of them. I do tours in German in some places in England. I'm also pretty good at singing and I've learned how to play the guitar."

"By yourself?" I looked up, amazed.

"Yes, since my family didn't have money for courses." The boy responded, setting his emptied cup of coffee on the table.

"And I'm the badass one? I think we're equal in badassery, my friend." I leaned back on the chair and laughed.

"Guess so." Gilbert smiled. After that, he suddenly flinched and closed his eyes in irritation.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice filled with concern. Maybe it was the coffee or the conversation, but whatever it was, it wasn't too good.

"(Y/N), how much did I drink last night?" I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

"A shit ton, if that explains anything. I know that the bar ran out of beer after the party, and considering that you nearly jumped out of my sunroof and started yelling some nonsense in German, you drank the most." Alcohol in immense amounts was never my thing, even considering that I have decent alcohol tolerance. Mainly because of the effects drinking has on you later. I remember the last time I drank, me and Alfred decided to have a drinking contest. I ended up winning, but had a hangover for the whole next day.

The German muttered something along the lines of "fuck", and I just shook my head.

"You should rest, we have classes in an hour." I offered.

"An hour won't help anything."

"That's what you think. Come on." I stood up, and grabbed Gilbert by the arm, "Where's your dorm?"

"On the third floor, number two seventeen" He repeated my actions.

"Then let's go. My dorm is close by, at two twenty five" I shared it with my two friends, Elizaveta and Natalia.

I practically dragged the German to the third floor of the building, while he gave me directions to a blue door next to the stairs. Gilbert took out his key and opened it. The room was a mess, with three beds at the sides. I didn't mind though, as my own room didn't look much better.

"Thanks, I think I'll be fine on my own from here." Gilbert sat down on one of the beds and smiled.

"No problem. You know where to find me if your hangover doesn't pass when you wake up." I smirked, as I had tried many methods on that fateful day a few months ago.

"How the hell would you know how to cure it?" He gave me a puzzled look.

"With great power comes great responsibility!" I laughed and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me. On my way back to my own dorm, I chuckled at my own actions, as I was sure that meeting this boy would be the start of something awfully good.

Fin （ミ￣ー￣ミ）