Forgotten - PruAus

Chapter 4 - "I'll be yours, okay?"

A number of emotions flickered across Roderich's face. He turned his head away in shame at revealing these to the Prussian. "Prussia, leave." The brunette murmured, only to start when a firm hand was clamped down on his shoulder, a comforting weight which he might have welcomed, years ago.

Unluckily for Gilbert, he had failed to come to the realisation that it was Roderich who destroyed those rooms, who'd scratched the eyes from the paintings, and left furniture mere wood shavings. Suddenly, he was on the floor, sprawling on his back having been knocked backwards by the sheer power of the anger radiating from the frail man. "How dare you?!" Roderich shrieked, his face contorted in rage, "How dare you come back here after 53 years and even think about touching me?!"

Gilbert sat up and looked at the man in amazement, guilt flooding him as he struggled to maintain his composure. Things began to fall into place. A nation exerts a lot of their power in representing a country and dealing with all of the emotions that come with bearing it, and with no outlet, Roderich had slowly been destroying his home and most regrettably himself, from the inside out. Music sheets began to fill the air, once ordered and now yellowed with age, whipping and swirling around the two men as the enraged nation strode toward him, bones creaking and showers of cobwebs leaving an eerie trail in his wake.

"How dare you even come here at all?! It was all your fault! Your fault!" he cried and with a burst of energy the two portraits behind Gilbert exploded. For a moment Gilbert glanced at the oiled paintings and his white skin paled; his and Hungary's. Gilbert pulled himself to his feet and held his ground, determination practically dripping from him.

He sighed bitterly and looked at the fragile man whose looks were currently betraying him, revealing just how tired he was, "Roderich. I'm here now, isn't that what matters? I'll apologise soon but the world is ready for you to come back." He paused and held out his hand to his oldest friend, "I'm ready for you to come back."

One moment they were standing in a whirl wind of papers and the next Gilbert had the trembling Austrian in his arms. Roderich had thrown his arms around Gil's neck and buried his face in one of his broad shoulders.

Tentatively, Gilbert began to stroke the brown hair, humming comfortingly as the man's body was wracked with silent sobs, his other arm around Roderich's waist. "That's it, Roddy. I'm right here, you're not going to be alone again."

Eventually Roderich looked up with shimmering eyes, "Th-thank you, Gilbert, promise you'll never leave me? Please don't go again..." he murmured softly. "I don't think my heart could bear it."

Gilbert tightened his grip and met his eyes, "I promise. As long as you need me, I'll be yours, okay?" he cooed, brushing a thumb over his tear stained cheek.

"M-mine?" Roderich asked tentatively, scanning his face for a sign of lie or deceit, "Yes, mine. You'll protect me." He said more firmly, setting his face and looking more like the man who once held Europe in the palm of his hand. Gilbert relaxed slightly, maybe things would be okay now, the worst was over, right?

((Ah! I'm back with a cheeky bit of possessive Roderich and the teasing chapter for what's in store! – Hasim))