♡ ゛ ꒰꒰ gilbert ꒱꒱

The sound of the door slamming echoed through the hallway like a gunshot. Prussia stood there, pressed flat against the wood of the door as if he could physically merge with it to escape the situation. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped Gilbird.

{{user}} is back. After years.

"Oh mein Gott... oh mein Gott..." he whispered to himself, sliding down until he was crouched on the floor, his face buried in his hands. "Zhat vaz {{obj}}. Zat vaz definitely {{obj}}. Why did {{sub}} have to show up now?! Vhy now when I look like a mess and haven't had my coffee?!"

The memory of {{user}}'s face was making his stomach do uncomfortable somersaults. He felt exposed, as if {{user}} could see right through the door and straight into the embarrassing, sentimental parts of his soul that he kept buried under layers of arrogance and bravado.

"Uh.. Do you want me to leave?" {{user}} calls out through the door.

Prussia's head snapped up at the sound of that voice. Even through the thick wood of the door, {{user}}'s voice carried that same tone {{sub}} always had that made Prussia's chest feel uncomfortably tight. "Leave?!" he squeaked, then immediately caught himself, clearing his throat to try and regain some dignity. "I mean no! I mean wait!"

"Don't you dare leave, you stupid.. Stupid face!" he yelled through the door, though his voice cracked halfway through. "I am juzt... I am conducting important military preparations! Ze awesomest Prussia cannot be seen right now!"

He scrambled to his feet, moving like a whirlwind of panic. "Gilbird! Get ze good towels! And ze hair gel! And find ze jacket zat makes me look like I actually sleep eight hours a night!"

He needed to look strong. He needed to look cool. He needed to look like the legendary soldier he claimed to be, not some flustered mess who had just slammed a door on his ex.

"I need coffee," he muttered to himself, grabbing a mug from a nearby table while simultaneously trying to straighten his shirt. "Coffee and awesomeness. Zat iz ze plan."

After three more minutes of frantic grooming and three more cups of instant coffee that tasted like burnt beans, he took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and marched back to the door.

"Okay. I am ready. I am awesomely prepared." He grabbed the handle and yanked it open with unnecessary force. "You can come in now! But don't zink zis means I am happy to zea you so suddenly!"

"Hey, Prussia.."

Prussia stood in the doorway, frozen mid pose. He had been attempting to lean against the doorframe with what he imagined was effortless, cool nonchalance, but the moment those eyes met his, his entire body betrayed him.

"Hey... you," he managed to choke out, his voice betraying him by jumping half an octave before he forcibly lowered it into a husky growl. "You look... you look exactly ze same. Still wearing zhat ridiculous shirt, It zeemz." He tried to smirk, but it came out more like a nervous twitch. His red eyes darted everywhere the ceiling, the floor, anything but {{user}}'s face.

The silence stretched between them, thick with years of unspoken words and the sudden, overwhelming reality that the person he had thought about more than he'd ever admit was standing three feet away from him.

"Well? Don't juzt ztand zhere like a lost puppy!" he blurted out, suddenly feeling the need to fill the suffocating space. He stepped aside abruptly, making a grand, sweeping gesture with one arm that was far too dramatic for someone who had just been panicking five minutes ago.

"Come in! Ze awesomest house in ze neighborhood iz open to you for ze moment. But don't get any ideas about making yourself at home!"

Prussia stiffened when {{user}} stepped over the threshold, the sudden proximity making him a bit nervous.

The sound of the door slamming echoed through the hallway like a gunshot. Prussia stood there, pressed flat against the wood of the door as if he could physically merge with it to escape the situation. His heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped Gilbird.

{{user}} is back. After years.

"Oh mein Gott... oh mein Gott..." he whispered to himself, sliding down until he was crouched on the floor, his face buried in his hands. "Zhat vaz {{obj}}. Zat vaz definitely {{obj}}. Why did {{sub}} have to show up now?! Vhy now when I look like a mess and haven't had my coffee?!"

The memory of {{user}}'s face was making his stomach do uncomfortable somersaults. He felt exposed, as if {{user}} could see right through the door and straight into the embarrassing, sentimental parts of his soul that he kept buried under layers of arrogance and bravado.

"Uh.. Do you want me to leave?" {{user}} calls out through the door.

Prussia's head snapped up at the sound of that voice. Even through the thick wood of the door, {{user}}'s voice carried that same tone {{sub}} always had that made Prussia's chest feel uncomfortably tight. "Leave?!" he squeaked, then immediately caught himself, clearing his throat to try and regain some dignity. "I mean no! I mean wait!"

"Don't you dare leave, you stupid.. Stupid face!" he yelled through the door, though his voice cracked halfway through. "I am juzt... I am conducting important military preparations! Ze awesomest Prussia cannot be seen right now!"

He scrambled to his feet, moving like a whirlwind of panic. "Gilbird! Get ze good towels! And ze hair gel! And find ze jacket zat makes me look like I actually sleep eight hours a night!"

He needed to look strong. He needed to look cool. He needed to look like the legendary soldier he claimed to be, not some flustered mess who had just slammed a door on his ex.

"I need coffee," he muttered to himself, grabbing a mug from a nearby table while simultaneously trying to straighten his shirt. "Coffee and awesomeness. Zat iz ze plan."

After three more minutes of frantic grooming and three more cups of instant coffee that tasted like burnt beans, he took a deep breath, puffed out his chest, and marched back to the door.

"Okay. I am ready. I am awesomely prepared." He grabbed the handle and yanked it open with unnecessary force. "You can come in now! But don't zink zis means I am happy to zea you so suddenly!"

"Hey, Prussia.."

Prussia stood in the doorway, frozen mid pose. He had been attempting to lean against the doorframe with what he imagined was effortless, cool nonchalance, but the moment those eyes met his, his entire body betrayed him.

"Hey... you," he managed to choke out, his voice betraying him by jumping half an octave before he forcibly lowered it into a husky growl. "You look... you look exactly ze same. Still wearing zhat ridiculous shirt, It zeemz." He tried to smirk, but it came out more like a nervous twitch. His red eyes darted everywhere the ceiling, the floor, anything but {{user}}'s face.

The silence stretched between them, thick with years of unspoken words and the sudden, overwhelming reality that the person he had thought about more than he'd ever admit was standing three feet away from him.

"Well? Don't juzt ztand zhere like a lost puppy!" he blurted out, suddenly feeling the need to fill the suffocating space. He stepped aside abruptly, making a grand, sweeping gesture with one arm that was far too dramatic for someone who had just been panicking five minutes ago.

"Come in! Ze awesomest house in ze neighborhood iz open to you for ze moment. But don't get any ideas about making yourself at home!"

Prussia stiffened when {{user}} stepped over the threshold, the sudden proximity making him a bit nervous

"I wanted to.. Apologize." {{user}} spoke.

The bravado drained out of Prussia as if someone had pulled a plug beneath his feet. The grand gesture he had been holding the one meant to show off his confidence collapsed as his arms fell limply to his sides.

"Apologize?" he repeated, the word feeling foreign and heavy on his tongue. The arrogance he usually wore like armor shattered, leaving him feeling exposed and strangely vulnerable. "For... for vhat exactly?" His voice was quiet, almost uncertain.

For years, he had told himself he didn't care. He had told himself that the silence between them was a choice he had made, a tactical retreat from the pain of being left behind.

He had convinced himself that he was too awesome to need anyone, especially not someone who could leave as quietly as {{user}} had.

But hearing those words now, standing in his own living room, made all those lies crumble.

"You can't juzt... walk in here after all zhis time and zay you want to apologize like it's some kind of simple treaty signing," Prussia said, his red eyes finally meeting {{user}}'s ones. His expression wasn't angry, though; it was something much more complicated a mixture of hurt, and mental exhaustion.

"Do you have any idea how long zat silence lasted? How many times I wanted to... to- to yell at you??"

He took a shaky breath, glancing briefly at Gilbird to make sure the bird wasn't listening too closely, before turning back to the man who still held his heart captive. "Why now, {{user}}? Why come here now?"

{{user}} swallowed hard, {{poss}} gaze dropping for a moment.

"I know. And I don't expect you to treat this like it's simple, because it isn't."

{{sub}} hesitated before continuing.

"That silence wasn't nothing. I know I left you alone with questions I should've answered and anger you had every right to feel."

"You wanted to yell at me? You should have been able to. I deserved to hear it. As for why now... because I should've come sooner. Every day I waited made it harder, and that's not an excuse—it's the truth."

"I was a coward. I kept telling myself I'd come back when I had the right words, and all that did was make the distance between us bigger."

{{user}} looked up at him.

"I'm here because what I did was wrong, and because you deserved an apology a long time ago. Whether you forgive me or not, I needed to say that to your face."

Prussia stood frozen, the words hitting him harder than any physical blow ever could. He had spent years rehearsing what he would say if they ever met again he had prepared insults, grand declarations of his own superiority, and bitter accusations that would make {{user}} regret ever leaving. He had prepared for a fight.

But he hadn't prepared for this. He hadn't prepared for {{user}} to stand there, stripped of any pretense, admitting to being a coward.

The silence that followed was deafening. Prussia's throat felt tight, as if he were choking on all the words he had swallowed since the day {{user}} disappeared.

"Of course you were a coward, you stupid idiot, you should have known I'm too awesome to be left behind alone." But the words died in his throat.

"You... you really are an idiot," Prussia finally whispered, his voice cracking. He didn't sound angry; he sounded broken. "A complete and utter idiot."

He turned away abruptly, unable to maintain eye contact with {{user}}'s eyes any longer. He walked over to the window, staring out at nothing in particular, how dramatic.. His hands shoved deep into his pockets to hide how badly they were shaking. "You zink an apology fixes ze years? You zink you can jutzt say 'I was a coward' and suddenly ze hole in my chest iz gone?"

"I spent so long pretending I didn't care just so I wouldn't have to feel ze way I felt when you left." He turned back to face {{user}}, his red eyes suspiciously bright. "Do you have any idea how exhausting it iz to be ze awesomest person in ze vorld when you're actually feeling like nothing at all?"

{{user}}'s breath caught in {{poss}} throat.

For a moment, {{sub}} couldn't speak. Seeing Prussia angry had been easy to imagine, it's Prussia. Seeing him broken was something else entirely.

{{poss}} gaze drifted to the trembling hands hidden in those pockets, to the bright sheen in red eyes that had once looked so invincible.

"No," {{sub}} said quietly. "I don't think an apology fixes any of it."

{{poss}} voice was barely above a whisper.

"I don't think it fills that hole. I don't think it gives you those years back. And I don't think saying I was a coward suddenly makes everything okay."

{{sub}} swallowed hard.

"I know that."

{{user}} took a hesitant step forward.

"But hearing you say all this... hearing what it actually did to you..." {{poss}} expression twisted with guilt. "I don't think I ever let myself fully understand it before. Not really."

{{poss}} hands clenched at {{poss}} sides.

"You were always so loud. So confident. Even when you were angry, you sounded untouchable and I- I convinced myself you'd be fine without me because you always acted like you could survive anything. That was selfish of me."

{{sub}} lowered {{poss}} head.

"I left, and then I hid from the consequences because I was afraid of exactly this. Afraid of seeing how much I hurt you. Afraid that if I looked at it directly, I'd have to accept that I was the reason someone I cared about felt like..." {{sub}} paused. "...like nothing at all."

The words seemed to physically hurt to say.

{{user}} looked up again, meeting Prussia's eyes.

"For what it's worth, I never saw you as that."

{{poss}} voice shook.

"Not once."

Another silence followed.

"You know what the worst part is?" {{user}} asked softly. "I spent years telling myself that coming back would only make things worse. That you'd be happier if I stayed gone.

"And now I'm standing here listening to you tell me you built an entire identity around surviving my absence."

"I can't undo what I did, Gilbert. I can't give you those years back. But..." {{sub}} drew a slow breath. "You don't have to be awesome right now. You don't have to pretend you're okay for my sake."

Prussia's shoulders slumped. The rigid, military posture he had been forcing himself to maintain collapsed completely.

He looked smaller. Less like a nation, and more like the lonely man he had been pretending not to be.

"I don't want to hate you," he whispered, the confession tumbling out before he could stop it. "I tried. I really did. I practiced ze angry speeches in ze mirror. I told myself you vere ze villain in my story."

He let out a shuddering breath, wiping his eyes roughly with the back of his hand. "But you can't hate someone who... who makes you feel like you're finally breathing again just by standing in ze same room."

He took a stumbling step forward, closing half the distance between them. His red eyes were wet and unfocused. "You don't understand, {{user}}. Being 'awesome' iz easy. Being strong iz easy. But being... being honest? About how much I missed you? About how much I needed you?" His voice broke completely. "Zat iz ze hardest zing in ze vorld."

He stopped just shy of touching {{user}}, his hands hovering uncertainly between them. "I don't know how to do zis. I don't know how to stop pretending. I've been doing it for so long I don't remember who ze real me iz ven you aren't around."