Cold as ice, Sharp as needles (Yaoi)

Chapter 6

I think we have a problem

"When you came in, the air went out..."

-Jace Everett

__________________________________

Only that things are never simple, are they?

I mean, yeah, maybe for others they are, but that's not the case for me, unfortunately.

After making the pancakes and filling them with a lot of Nutella and strawberry jam- apparently not everyone likes Nutella, can you believe that?!- I took the liberty to take the plates and put them on the small table in the living-room.

But not after having a heated debate with Gilbert about whether his feet should or not rest themselves not-so-gracefully on the table. I'll have you know I had him Windex and scrub the living hell out of it, while a very amused Spaniard could barely hold his laughter back.

"My feet are clean," He mumbles while he scrubs the table.

"You missed a spot," I say simply, completely ignoring him.

"My feet are clean!" He nearly shouts, apparently ignoring me as well.

"You missed a spot," I reply in a calm manner.

"I said m-..." he starts in a loud angry voice, but he was smacked on the head before he could go on by a not-so-calm blonde, who also happens to be his brother. Huh.

"Shut up and do what he says. I've been here for only five minutes and you're already being stupid," Ludwig says in a rather pissed voice while he eyes his brother suspiciously. To think that Gilbert's older!

"Ja, ja. I was going to do it anyway. I don't see why everyone's picking on me," he mutters and throws me a meaningful glare. I feel my lips curling in a small grin. "Bastard."
"Oh shut it, princess!" I roll my eyes.

"You...!" But he says no more and leaves the room and somehow I have a feeling he'll plot something later. But for now...pancakes!

"Mmm. These are actually good, dude!" says Alfred, clearly pleased with my Nutella pancakes.

"You seem surprised though," I narrow my eyes as I am inspecting his face, but he bursts into light laughter, surprising me.

"Artie can't cook to save his life," he snickers as he stuffs his face with another huge bite of food. He is sitting next to me on the couch, barely sparing me a glance.

"You seem fond of him," is what I say and it clearly attracts his attention, because next thing I know his blue eyes are fixed on me- two pools filled with questions and...fear? I cock an eyebrow at him. He swallows his food carefully and clears his teeth before responding.

"We grew up together."

He doesn't say anything else and suddenly there's tension in the air so palpable you could cut it with a knife. I clear my throat. "That's nice."

"Yeah, it is...it's just..." he shakes his head. "Sometimes he seems so distant, so foreign- it's like I don't even know him!" He complains, his eyes cast downwards. "Is it...is it normal?" This time he looks at me and I must have made a face because suddenly he's frowning.

"Look. I'm not good with friendships or whatever, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."

"Thanks, man!" He pats my shoulder and stands up. "I need some booze. Tonight I either get shitfaced or I'm not allowed to call myself Afred Jones!" He declares and some people cheer. I sigh.

"He's a handful, ain't he?" The Dane plops in next to me, carrying a can of beer in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other. I eye it suspiciously before deciding I don't really want to know.