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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Sept 28, 2010 22:09:43 GMT -5
Roderich was not so far gone that he was unaware of his surroundings; he felt his body shift as Gilbert lifted him. A soft gasp bubbled up from his throat as he was moved, the cloak around his shoulder shifting his arm, the pain nearly blinding him. Vaguely, the brunette could hear the sound of Gil's voice, telling him to focus on anything but sleep. But I'm so tired, Roderich wanted to say, though he couldn't make his lips form the words. It hurts... it won't be so bad if I can sleep through it... "'lease, Gil..." the brunette murmured as the Prussian made his way down the passage to the airship, his voice soft as he begged to be allowed to sleep.
The jostling from the silverette's running as they headed down the passage was really what kept Roderich from passing out; the constant bursts of pain kept him from drifting off, but they weren't so overwhelming that he passed out even faster due to the pain. The passage was thankfully short and opened into a large, round room. In the middle of the room sat the airship they had been looking for. It was a good-sized vessel, not one of the bigger ships, but large enough to pose a significant threat with a good enough crew. It was well outfitted with weapons and most likely had ammunition stored below deck.
But there was no time to admire it; the sounds of the soldiers could be heard coming down the passage. A ramp to the interior of the airship was lowered, set on a pneumatic system so that it didn't have to be raised manually. Gilbert would have to use his mental map to get around beyond that, as there was no obvious light near the entrance of the airship.
"They're... coming..." Roderich murmured, coughing as he spoke. The sounds of the soldiers drew nearer, and before long, three men spilled from the passage, swords drawn. One of them held a gun; he was the commander of the guard, the only one of them allowed to have a weapon other than a sword; the military didn't want it's weapons wasted on protecting a noble.
The commander smirked as he gazed at the two. "You might as well just surrender; he's as good as dead and you're outnumbered, albino," he jeered before dropping his gun as a show of smugness. "But since I know you'll insist on fighting me anyway, I might as well make it interesting." Drawing his sabre, he gestured for Gilbert to come closer, the other two following suit.
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Sept 28, 2010 22:53:10 GMT -5
Gilbert could have cried from pure joy at the sight of the airship. Salvation had never been more welcome than it was now and he tightened his grip as he sprinted forward. All he needed to do was get Roderich aboard and then they could take off. The military would be helpless below and they'd be safe. Just ten more yards... eight... six... five...
And then a voice stopped Gilbert in his tracks.
Stopping just beside the ramp, the Prussian slowly lowered Roderich to the ground in a sitting position and checked over the noble's condition. Slender eyebrows knit together in worry but he knew that making a run for it would be lethal. One of them had a gun, and he couldn't risk letting Roderich get shot again, or himself. There was too much to lose. "Just hold on a little longer," the albino said in the most comforting voice he could manage. "We'll be gone soon..."
Offering the brunette a small grin, he stood and turned, drawing his sword as he glared at the offending officers. Crimson eyes narrowed in distaste as he carefully moved between them, calculating how fast he would be able to take them all down.
Then he saw the gun.
The gun that had been fired. The gun that shot his precious master. The gun that was the reason Roderich was currently standing at Death's door.
And something in Gilbert's mind snapped.
A wide, manic smile slowly slid across his features as he took a step forward. His eyes glittered darkly with a malice that seemed inhuman, the demonic look only fueled further by the blood-red colour. He took another step forward and raised his free hand slowly to cover his eyes as soft laughter tumbled from his lips. The sound started as a soft chuckle before it exploded into high-pitched hysterics that shook his shoulders and echoed off the walls as he threw his head back. "You all..." he looked down, spreading his fingers enough to peer between them at the soldiers. "You all... ahahaha..." He giggled, a venomously sweet smile taking place of the grin. "You all... are going to die."
Then he darted forward.
It only took seconds for Gilbert to send the two grunt-officers to their knees, blood spurting from wounds as their pulses raced from the fearful rush of adrenaline. The Prussian's once white pants were now covered in crimson stains, but the laughter never stopped as the albino turned toward his last victim. "You... hurt my master." He took a step forward, raising his blade to his lips as he watched blood drop down the sharp metal in amusement. The grin suddenly widened as a pink tongue slipped between pale lips and ran up the length of the blade, carefully cleaning all of the crimson liquid off the top as more dripped down to the floor.
Not leaving time for the captain to respond, Gilbert threw his entire weight into the man's chest and pinned him to the ground. His smile had exploded into something insane as cruel laughter danced in his eyes. "I'm going to make you scream... one cut at a time."
First cut, an arm. Screams.
Second cut, the other arm. Screams.
Third cut, a leg. More screams.
"You make such unique music. The young master loves music." More laughter, followed by the soft swish of a glove being removed. "What other noises can you make...?" A finger dug itself into the open socket where an arm had once been as the Prussian relished in the different 'notes' he got from pushing his finger in deeper at different angles.
Fourth cut, the other leg. The screams had started to die down now.
"Aw... is the concert already over?" Gilbert laughed again, pulling his hand way to drag his tongue up his forefinger. "You taste like shit..."
Finally, a stab. Right to the center of the man's heart.
"I hope... you burn in hell. You've got a seat next to the devil."
Placing a foot on the captain's chest as the last gurgles of life tumbled from the man's lips, he lifted himself up and stepped over the man like a carpet, smirking as he heard several loud 'cracks' of ribs snapping filling the air.
By the time Gilbert reached Roderich, it was as if nothing had happened. His eyes were soft again, holding the same warm look they always had when regarding the brunette. "Young master," he murmured. "We're almost inside. Just stay away a little longer."
Hefting the noble into his arms, he ran aboard the ship and sighed in relief as he heard the ramp shutting behind him. To his right, a padded bench sat waiting, it's cushions slightly coated in dust. Setting the Austrian down with care, Gilbert brushed the others hair from his eyes once more and pulled away with a hushed promise to return soon. Now... to just set this thing running.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Sept 28, 2010 23:42:18 GMT -5
As soon as he was set down, Roderich shifted, only half aware of the danger that the soldiers posed. Vaguely, he thought he should be helping, that he couldn't let Gilbert do this on his own, but the rational part of his mind knew better. There was nothing he could do in the condition he was in, and it would only make things worse if he tried. Instead, he simply sat where he was, attempting to regain at least some of his strength.
Roderich was only vaguely aware of what was going on with Gilbert and the soldiers. He heard the sounds of someone screaming, and he could only hope it was the enemy and not his guardian. Briefly, he tried to move up the ramp, scared that the soldiers had somehow bested the Prussian and were coming for him, but he found it near impossible to move. Overcome with a wave of dizziness, the brunette slumped backward, his vision becoming even worse as unconsciousness loomed over him.
Before he could pass out completely, the silverette returned and lifted him up once more, taking him onto the ship, murmuring to him softly. His soft voice lulled the noble more than anything, and as he was set down on the soft cushions, unconsciousness overwhelmed him before he could even say a word of thanks.
It wasn't until much later, after they were in the air and safely away from Roderich's home, that the Austrian woke up. Proper bandages had replaced the towels and cloak that had been there earlier, although the white fabric was stained a deep red as he continued to bleed, though at a much more sluggish pace than before.
Lifting his head to look around proved to be a bad idea, as he was still dizzy and now somewhat nauseous. Groaning and resting his head back on the pillow, Roderich squeezed his eyes shut and reached out with his uninjured arm. "Gilbert... Gilbert, where are you..." he murmured, voice hoarse. The brunette was covered in sweat from the fever that made his entire body feel hot to the touch. He wasn't sure where he was or whether or not they were still in danger; the last thing he remembered was the silverette fighting three soldiers. Somewhat panicked that something had gone wrong, the Austrian once again struggled to sit up, inexplicably terrified for his guardian's safety. "Gilbert!!"
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Sept 29, 2010 9:30:46 GMT -5
Day one had been the worst. By the time he'd gotten the ship up and running, cloaking device and all, Gilbert was exhausted. His mind was still whirling from the events of the attack and everything was trying desperately to keep up. Still, he knew he couldn't rest. Not yet. Roderich had needed help, and his clothes were soaked in not only his own blood, but Roderich's and the soldiers. Too much. It would cause a problem if he didn't take care of it soon, and the last thing he needed was more problems.
Happily, everything cleaned up nicely and he was able to dress Roderich's wounds without issue. The ship had, much to his pleasure, everything they could have possibly needed for a long period of travel... save for food. There were, of course, dry foods that were meant to be packed away for several years and things that had been kept stored away in a freezer, but they would only last for so long. They'd have to stock up as soon as they landed... and find a small crew to help pilot. But that was for later.
It had taken him a few hours, but the Prussian had finally managed to work out the ship's autopilot and set the course for France, the only nation he could think of that was a fair distance from Austria where they could still communicate with the locals without crossing the ocean. They didn't have enough supplies for that. Almost a week had passed and they would be landing soon, but they were already running low (as there had not been much in the area of food to begin with.)
Still, Gilbert couldn't complain. They'd managed to escape, if only barely, and they were alive. The albino had even manged to find himself a new set of clothes that fit quiet nicely for having not been adjusted for his figure. His old uniform had been burned in the ship's boiler room and the ashes disposed of. Blood-covered fabric would only cause them trouble later if left lying around.
Which brought him to where he was now. Walking down the hallway with a bowl of cold water in one hand and a cloth in the other. The entire week they'd been traveling, Roderich had yet to wake up, and Gilbert was starting to lose hope. As helpful as the ship had been, it had not come with a helpful supply of blood, and even if it had, transferring blood anywhere but in a hospital would have been foolish. That was another thing he'd need to look for before he acquired food. A doctor. A real one, not someone with enough medical knowledge to keep himself and others alive for the time being.
"Gilbert!!"
The voice made Gilbert jump, nearly dropping the bowl clutched in his hands. Crimson eyes widening in shock as the silverette darted forward, throwing open the door of the captain's quarters he'd found and dart inside. The movement on the bed had earned his full attention the moment he'd entered, and something in the Prussian's chest swelled and snapped. He's... okay...
Crossing the room in several long strides, the albino quickly placed the bowl and cloth down before he sat down on the edge of the bed and gently pushed the brunette back against the pillows. His vision blurred as his eyes stung and something thick caught itself in his throat. Roderich was awake; which was the best sign of hope he could have asked for. "Don't move," he began softly. "Y-you'll rip your stitches. W-we're almost to France. The... the cloaking device will keep us safe until then, and..." Gilbert choked, fighting back the urge to sob openly. "...And then we'll get you a doctor."
Before he could finish, the wall shattered and he leaned forward, burying his face in Roderich's chest as his shoulders began to tremble. "Mein Gott... You're okay... You're okay. I... Verdammt! You... you... stupid... selfish noble p-prat! I-I thought I'd lost you... Es tut mir leid... Es tut mir leid..."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Sept 29, 2010 11:29:31 GMT -5
The brunette didn't have to wait for long after he'd called Gilbert's name; he struggled with his weakened limbs, slipping and falling back against the bed several times before the Prussian entered and pushed him gently against the mattress. Roderich was relieved to see the silverette was safe, but his mind couldn't process much beyond that. He was nowhere near out of the woods; although his return to consciousness was an incredibly good sign, the bullet embedded in his shoulder had caused an infection which had in turn given him a dangerously high fever.
"You're... okay..." Normally Roderich wouldn't give away just how relieved he was to see the albino back at his side, but he was too sick to be able to keep up the mask he usually did. He could barely make sense of Gilbert's words, and when he suddenly found himself with the silverette's head on his chest, it did nothing but confuse him.
Slowly, the noble brought a hand up to rest on top of the head on his chest, his brain weakly trying to react to the new situation, his body slowly following its commands. He could only process every other word that was said, so he had no idea how to react. "Where are we...?" Roderich asked weakly, blinking several times as he looked around the room. He couldn't recognize it, and hadn't Gilbert said something about France? His hand was gently carding through the Prussian's silver hair as the brunette surveyed the room, not even realizing that his hand was moving on its own.
Still far too pale, and now exhausted from simply lifting his head to look around the room, Roderich relaxed against the pillows even more, sighing softly as he closed his eyes again. He was still awake, though his body went still, the movements easily tiring him after all the time he'd spent sleeping, his body trying to recover from the wounds. The only sign that he was still awake was the fact that his breathing was laboured and uneven, not the gentle, even breathing of someone who was asleep.
After several minutes of silence, Roderich's head lolled to the side, his body shifting toward the warmth of the other body on the bed. Reaching out with his other arm, he gently tugged the Prussian closer, shivering from his fever. "Ich... liebe dich..." he sighed, drifting back to sleep. "...please stay..."
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Roderich just admitted his feelings because of the fever~ Hehehe, I just caused a little bit of future drama, didn't I? :3
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Sept 29, 2010 12:51:54 GMT -5
The fingers threading through his hair worked like magic as Gilbert felt himself calming down almost immediately. His eyes slowly slide shut as he listened to the raggid, but still there, gasps of breath that caused Roderich's chest to rise and fall unevenly. Despite the seriousness of the situation, the brunette was awake, and that alone was more than the Prussian has ever expected. It gave him hope.
The question of their location didn't come as a surprise at all, but the albino still felt hesitance in answering it. The strain on Roderich's body was bad enough as it was, and he didn't want to add to it. "We're in your father's airship," he explained in a quiet voice. "We're on our way to France to get a doctor. He's going to help make the pain go away."
The gentle look in his eyes never went away as he sat up and reached for the bowl, wetting the cloth as he set it on Roderich's forehead. It wouldn't do much, but at least it would keep the brunette cooler. The noble's face was heavily flushed, and the fever was doing nothing for Gilbert's nerves. He couldn't do anything for it but offer comfort. The ship didn't seen to have any medicine on it, not the kind that would help, and he didn't want to risk a herbal remedy when he didn't know just how bad the fever was. "We're almost... there..."
"Ich... liebe dich..."
Gilbert's chest constricted painfully as the words echoed in his mind, making no protests as he was pulled closer. His eyes widen in shock as he waited, barely aware that Roderich had drifted off again. His mouth opened, but no words would come. He couldn't respond. He shouldn't. The brunette was his master. He was just a guard; weapon for hire. Roderich was a noble, and he was little more than an orphaned mercenary. "...Just hold on..."
Ich liebe dich, mein liebe... -------------------------------------- asfkljsldfj! ASSHOLE, DESU! DD: AS IF GILBO ISN'T SAD ENOUGH ALREADY! T___T I-if Roddy doesn't even remember saying it... *sob*
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Sept 29, 2010 14:52:58 GMT -5
Waking up for the first time after a week of sleeping began a chain reaction in Roderich's recovery. He slept for two hours before his fever finally broke; he was still warm to the touch, but it was no longer at a dangerous level. Gilbert's meticulous care for his master kept the infection contained and minimal, so it was almost guaranteed that Roderich would recover fully and quickly. When the noble woke up again three hours after he'd fallen asleep, his mind was much clearer. The has that came with the fever was mostly gone, as was the general confusion and dizziness that had surrounded him earlier.
Sitting up carefully, Roderich grimaced slightly as the action pulled his stitches. Shifting to ease the strain on his injuries, the brunette looked around the cabin. Vaguely remembering some of the details, he frowned, barely aware he'd been awake three hours ago. Currently, he was alone in the room, and as he wondered where the Prussian had gone, the Austrian remembered his voice saying they were close to France. "I wonder if we've landed..." the noble wondered out loud, craning his neck to try and look out the window.
Giving up when the strain was too much on his body, the brunette sighed and settled back against the pillows. After a few more minutes of silence, the noble sighed, trying to remember if he'd been told anything else when the silverette had been there. Vaguely, Roderich remembered the albino resting his head on his chest, though he didn't recall his tears. He remembered the relief he felt upon seeing the Prussian again, alive and unharmed. The emotion was almost overwhelming, even now that he was just thinking about it. When he'd been lost in the haze of his fever, he simply took the feeling for what it was.
Now, however, he couldn't help but wonder what it meant. It made sense that he would want his Prussian bodyguard alive - they had a good relationship. They both relied on one another, and beyond their "master and servant" position, Roderich even considered Gilbert to be a friend. But that wasn't enough to explain the cold dread that had filled him when he thought the silverette was in danger or dead. He'd had close friends from the military who'd been killed in battle; he knew how it felt to lose dear friends, even both his parents. Only with the death of his beloved mother did he ever feel such fear and loss. So what did this mean...?
Seconds after asking himself this question, his memory answered it for him. It was then that he remembered the feverish words he'd whispered. Ich liebe dich... I love you. Clasping his handover his mouth, Roderich's eyes widened in shock at the suddenness of the realization. "Did I... really say that?" He questioned aloud. It wasn't so much that he was shocked at his feelings - it made sense for him to be in love with the silverette. It was that he'd said it aloud before he'd come to terms with the feelings; before he'd even known the feelings existed. Roderich had no experience with these feelings; how was he supposed to act? Did things have to change between them? ...how did Gilbert feel? The Austrian couldn't even remember if he'd said the words or dreamt them, but he was certain he never got a response.
Having such a limited experience with emotions, Roderich decided not to act any differently or even acknowledge what he said until he knew what he was going to do about it. "...I am sick. I don't even know if I really mean what I said..." he tried to reason aloud, though inwardly he knew he was only trying to fool himself by saying those words. His heart pounded a little harder at the thought of having the Prussian at his side, not as just his servant, but as his lover. That mental image alone was enough to make him ache for it - but he simply didn't know how to make that image a reality.
Before he had time to think his thoughts through any further, the door to his room opened and Gilbert entered. Seeing the silverette so soon after his discovery did nothing for his nerves; his already flushed face tinged pink as he blushed despite himself, violet eyes averting themselves from the doorway. "...have we landed?" Roderich asked in the calmest voice possible, proud of himself for not faltering. Realizing that Gilbert was probably worried sick over his condition, the noble swallowed and took a breath, forcing himself to look at the Prussian. "I'm feeling much better..."
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Sept 29, 2010 15:52:01 GMT -5
Upon entering the room and hearing Roderich's voice, Gilbert felt the monster in his stomach calm and purr. The brunette had been asleep when he'd left earlier that morning to find a doctor, and it was whenever the noble would rest that the Prussian would be the most afraid. Each time the Austrian fell asleep, there was always the risk that he would not wake up--and the mere thought of that made the silverette sick to his stomach.
As a mercenary, it would be easy for him to acquire another job. After all, he was strong, quick, and powerful. He knew how to use a sword and get the job done... but after having worked for Roderich for so long, he didn't want another job. He was supposed to have left the nobleman's service several years ago; he wasn't even being paid anymore--no that he knew of--and yet, something made him stay. The thought of not being at his master's side made him sad. Despite the vast amount of self-pride and ego the Prussian showed off, he couldn't think of anything that would make him feel more lost than losing Roderich--it would be like losing everything.
"About time you woke up, young master," Gilbert said with a grin as he took a seat on the edge of the bed. "I was starting to think you were a lot lazier than I originally thought. Cold water and ice were gonna be my best friends if you didn't. I don't think I've ever seen you sleep so much in my life. Then again..." he chuckled, "I guess you don't have a piano to obsess over on here, huh? At least, I haven't found one yet." His pale fingers flexed unconsciously around a small bowl in his hands, shifting their grip whenever the heat from the liquid within got too warm.
"I made you some soup, but you'll have to wait for it to cool. I've got a doctor coming soon." The word 'doctor' came out shakily as all the worst case scenarios shot through his mind, but the thoughts were quickly pushed aside. With a sigh, Gilbert set the bowl of soup on the bedside table and shifted his weight, turning around to face Roderich properly without having to strain his neck. Much to the albino's pleasure, colour had started to return to the brunette's face and he was looking much healthier than he had before. "Within the hour, hopefully. The awesome me found you a good one."
Silence fell over the room as Gilbert trailed off. No words came to the Prussian's mind, leaving an awkward air as he struggled to find something to speak about. The quiet was pressing in around him uncomfortably, and he was desperate to hear Roderich's voice. Hearing Roderich's voice was an assurance, proof that he was awake, that he was alive. Yet, at the same time, it was almost comforting. It gave him an excuse to stare without babbling on about a reason and, before he could stop it, his hand had risen itself to cup the Austrian's face gently, stroking the cheek with his thumb. "...You scared me," he whispered. "I... really thought you weren't going to wake up for a while. Your fever... got really bad at one point. I thought... I'd really fucked this one up and you were going to..."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Sept 29, 2010 17:45:22 GMT -5
As the Prussian stepped into the room, seeing the bowl he had in his hands made Roderich’s stomach growl; how long had it been since he ate? Shifting to push himself into a better sitting position, he watched as Gilbert shifted his hold on the bowl. He seemed to be acting normal, which was strange; the noble was sure his protector would at least give some hint that he’d made a confession of love earlier… perhaps it had been a dream after all. Pursing his lips at the teases the other made, Roderich gave the silverette his best annoyed yet humoured face he could manage as a response.
However, as Gilbert mentioned the doctor, the Austrian caught the way his voice shook and he frowned, violet eyes trained on the silverette’s face. His voice never shook like that, and all Roderich could think was that perhaps he was not as unaffected by his proclamation of love as he appeared. Or else… his voice was shaking for a completely different reason… like the fact that he had almost died. Mentally slapping himself for trying to see something that wasn’t there, the brunette nodded his understanding and glanced at the soup, though he knew better than to take it before it had been deemed suitable for him.
Grateful that his companion had sought out a doctor the brunette sighed and let his gaze come to rest on his hands in his lap. The silence between them had changed somehow; it wasn't the normal companionable silence that usually filled the room; it was thick, heavily silence. There was something unsaid and it was weighing both of them down. Thinking frantically for something to say, Roderich took a breath to speak but was cut off when he felt a hand on his cheek. It was so comforting so... everything he wanted that he felt himself leaning into the touch at first. For as strong as he was, the Prussian was surprisingly gentle.
The urge to close his eyes and pull the silverette closer almost overwhelmed him, but when he realized what he was doing, he recoiled, pulling his face away from the hand on his cheek. Suddenly uncomfortable and not knowing what to do, what was right, Roderich cleared his throat. "You kept me alive for a week... you got me out of the house. Don't blame yourself for my injuries. I am alive and that is all that matters. I'm grateful for your help." He hadn't meant to sound so cold; his voice shook slightly, but his tone was still quite icy and he nearly flinched; Roderich didn't want to push Gilbert away, but he didn't know what he was doing at this point, so he stuck to the norms, to what was expected of him. Even if it did sound standoffish.
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Sept 29, 2010 20:45:57 GMT -5
As Roderich moved away from him, Gilbert quickly drew his hand backward, looking, for a brief moment, as if he'd been smacked. His eyes widened faintly in shock before the expression was quickly covered as he turned away. Whatever hope he'd allowed himself to gather about the situation was quickly shattered and tossed aside. He felt foolish for even thinking it was possible. What else would it have been but the fever speaking? He was, after all, a servant. A mercenary. Just a sword for higher. Nothing more...
"...You should eat before the doctor gets here," the Prussian muttered quietly as he stood up. "He might give you medication that knocks you out quickly. It'd be a problem if you couldn't eat." With a silent sigh, the swordsman headed toward the door, intent on returning to the ships cabin to map out their next course... wherever that was. It wasn't as if they'd be able to take off again without a crew and proper supplies, but right now... he just needed to escape.
"I'll go... see if he's here yet. It'd be bad if he thought we weren't home or something. Count on the awesome me and you'll have someone healing you soon." The room around him suddenly felt as if it were suffocating him. The air felt heavy and thick and his eyes burned for a reason he couldn't explain. The monster in his stomach had started writhing again and he suddenly had the urge to puke. His chest had taken on the sensation of being stabbed and the poor albino couldn't think of a reason why.
"Don't try to move around too much right now. Not until you get proper stitches and a wheelchair while everything heals. The awesome me will take his leave now."
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Sept 29, 2010 21:38:15 GMT -5
He would have to be deaf not to hear the dejection in Gilbert’s voice when he pulled back. The tone made the Austrian’s chest feel tight and he clenched his hands in the sheets to keep from reaching for the silverette and pulling him back. It was what he wanted to do, and honestly, he was having a hard time fighting the urge. But, when Gilbert moved away, it was as if the spell was broken and he let out a breath. The moment was over now, the chance was gone; not that he knew what to do or say anyway. What was he supposed to say? What could he say? Until he determined how he felt, if he’d really said those words aloud, and how Gilbert felt, it was pointless to do anything but act normally.
Glancing at the soup on the bedside, the brunette frowned. It would probably be a pain to reach for it, but the Prussian was already across the room and it would be too awkward to ask him to come back. Inching to the edge, Roderich was grateful the bowl was on his good side; he wouldn’t have to stretch too far to reach it, minimizing on the pain from straining the wound in his side. Pulling the bowl to him, he took a sip, violet eyes lifting as the silverette spoke again from his spot near the door.
"Don't try to move around too much right now. Not until you get proper stitches and a wheelchair while everything heals. The awesome me will take his leave now."
There was none of Gilbert’s usual cocky confidence in his voice, and Roderich knew it was because he had pulled away. The earlier incident was certainly not the first time the silverette had shown similar affection, and he never pulled away in the past. Sometimes he even returned the affection; how had he not seen it before? Simply staring down into the bowl of soup, he uttered one word before Gilbert left, though he wasn’t sure if the Prussian heard. ”…danke.” His tone was soft, carrying a hint of melancholy to it; he truly hadn’t meant to upset his companion.
The door shut softly, leaving him alone again. The noble normally didn’t have a problem with being alone; he was more or less used to it. But now it was suffocating; he hated it. Figuring he could do nothing at the moment except keep himself healthy, he took another sip of the soup, ignoring the spoon, his throat grateful for the warm, soothing broth. He ate slowly, sipping the broth until it was half gone before eating the rest of it normally, waiting until the doctor arrived, hoping Gilbert would stay longer this time. Even if he didn’t know how to act around his guardian, he still wanted him close-by.
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Sept 30, 2010 10:11:39 GMT -5
As he walked away from the room, Gilbert couldn't help the sudden feeling of loss that overwhelmed him. He didn't want to leave the room, nor had he wanted to leave Roderich's side. His mind was screaming for him to turn around and go back, but his body wouldn't allow it. Why go back and be disappointed? Why hurt himself? It was already hard enough that he'd have to face the brunette everyday and act as if nothing happened, why subject himself to more? It would only hurt. Thus, the Prussian forced himself to keep walking, all the way to the lower deck where he could wait for the doctor's arrival.
Why did I think there was hope in the first place? he asked himself silently. Of course it was the fever talking. Be probably thought I was someone else. A girl he met, or something. Maybe one of the maids. A wry smile graced his lips as he the thought of Roderich having a secret romance with one of the Edelstein Manor's maids. The image was almost as amusing as the thought, but it did nothing to help his mood; it simply made his chest feel tighter.
Almost an hour later, the doctor finally arrived and the albino quickly lead him to the captain's room, explaining in rapid French the situation and his doubts that Roderich knew enough of the native language to communicate problems. As he moved to stand outside the room, the doctor requested that he stay inside the room for translation purposes and immediately Gilbert's hopes of avoiding his master for as long as possible were shattered. Still, he couldn't run the risk of something going wrong because of a mistranslation and he reluctantly entered the room, keeping his face as blank as possible. He was just there to translate while the doctor worked. Then he would return to his post outside the door as a good guard would be.
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Sept 30, 2010 14:14:10 GMT -5
The hour that Gilbert was gone felt like an eternity. The bowl had long since been drained of its contents and was sitting on the bedside table where the silverette had put it in the first place. Roderich was still sitting up with his hands in his lap; though he was tired, his mind refused to cooperate and he was kept awake by his thoughts. Since the Prussian was obviously hurt by his rejection (and he could not deny that that was what he had done), the brunette couldn't help but wonder what that meant. Part of him believed it to be an affront to his pride, to their friendship. The other part said it was because the feeling was mutual. Currently, the Austrian didn't know what to believe.
When Gilbert entered the room with the doctor, he raised his gaze from his hands, immediately making eye contact with his Prussian companion. There was something... off, something that didn't belong in the crimson gaze that was unsettling, but with the presence of another person in the room, Roderich wouldn't be able to say anything about it. When the doctor began speaking French, the Austrian nodded his understanding; his father had been abroad in France, Spain, Hungary and Poland and was fluent in the first two languages. As such, French and Spanish were taught to Roderich when he was younger. He wasn't fluent, but he had enough of a grasp on the language to understand the doctor and make simple responses. His accent was rusty; there had been no reason to speak French outside of his lessons, and he much preferred Spanish, anyway.
As the doctor began looking him over, taking note of the well-done stitches despite not having proper supplies, the infection that was mild and contained and easily treated thanks to Gilbert's diligence and medical knowledge, Roderich's eyes frequently came to rest on his guardian. He looked... awkward, like he didn't want to be there, though the Austrian could never think of a time that the silverette didn't want to be where he was. That thought was more upsetting than it should have been to him, but he kept his mouth shut, answering the questions he could in French, looking to Gilbert to translate the more complicated phrases. The man worked quickly, cleaning the wounds, re-stitching them, applying medicine for the infection and explaining its uses before taking a closer look at the gunshot wound. The doctor turned and he and Gilbert began discussing something in rapid French; the brunette was too tired to try to keep up, though he knew it had something to do with the location of the bullet. He wasn't even sure if it was still in his shoulder or not.
Closing his eyes, somewhat lulled by the voices around him, the brunette drifted off to sleep; it would be easy to wake him up if necessary, but the strain on his mind finally ebbed enough to allow sleep to reclaim him while Gilbert and the doctor talked about... whatever it was they needed to discuss.
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So, I figure you can either have them talking about the fact that Gilbert took the bullet out (since you said he would if he could) or if it's still in there. Either way is fine, and Roderich will need proper surgery no matter what, so... it's just a matter of the details. XD
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Post by Gilbert Weillschmidt on Oct 1, 2010 14:29:48 GMT -5
A light blush graced Gilbert's cheeks as the doctor offered him praise for his work. He knew what he had been doing at the time, of course, but that didn't mean that he was on any level of a professional. As he explained how the bullet had been removed and what surgery would be required to treat the injury, the Prussian's gaze shifted toward the bed as he heard a soft sigh. He knew that noise well, years of sitting at the Austrian noble's bedside upon request and simply to ensure that he was alright had taught him to recognize the symptoms of when the other had fallen asleep. Despite the current rush of confusion emotions that swarmed about his head when he thought of the brunette, he couldn't help but smile at the site. Roderich looked so relaxed, and for that, he was grateful.
"Will we need to wake him?" the Prussian asked in a hushed tone as the talk of surgery continued. "We have some numbing medication that we could apply before it starts, but I don't know what you need to do it. I want to avoid moving him from the ship for now if possible." The thought of moving the brunette wasn't one the swordsman was even willing to consider. The noble's condition was unstable enough as it was and doing something that could possible make it worse was out of the question. "Think you could do it here?"
After some debate, and a thorough search of the ship's medical supplies, the doctor finally caved and agreed to doing the needed surgery on Roderch on-board. Unfortunately, they didn't have everything that was needed and the treatment was scheduled to be done the next day after the doctor returned to town to get what he needed. Payment hadn't been mentioned as of yet, but the nagging feeling of dread never left Gilbert's mind. All his money was under an account back in Prussia, and leaving Roderich alone to return to his home was out of the question. Still, they needed payment. Quickly. Something had to be done.
With a sigh, he sat down on the edge of the bed and watched his slumbering master with a small smile. At least, for now, things seemed to have calmed own. --------------------------------- ACTIVATE CLICHE DREAM SEQUENCE! GO GO GO!
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Post by Roderich Edelstein on Oct 1, 2010 16:59:31 GMT -5
Even though he wasn't sleeping deeply, Roderich didn't wake up as Gilbert and the doctor discussed the surgery he would need or when they came to the conclusion that it would take place on the ship the next day. It wasn't until after the doctor left that he fell into a deep enough sleep to dream.
Given the fact that his realization about his Prussian bodyguard hadn't left his mind, it wasn't a surprise that he would dream about him. It started out as a normal dream; they were sitting together in the parlour, eating cake and talking. The brunette couldn't really make out what was being said, but it made sense in the dream. Before he knew it, though, the silverette was leaning across the table, his thumb lightly brushing across his lips. The Austrian felt himself smile and lean into the touch, an arm reaching out to pull the other closer until their lips met.
Time has a funny way of being irrelevant in a dream; when it had started, the sun was streaming through the large bay window in the room, but as soon as they kissed, the room got dark. Locations also have a strange way of shifting on a moment's notice; no longer was the brunette sitting up in one of the high-backed chairs in the parlour. Instead, he was laying on something soft; his bed, he realized after a few moments.
Outwardly, in the waking world, Roderich shifted slightly on the bed, a soft sigh escaping him, eyelids fluttering as he dreamed. His hands clenched in the sheets, mimicking the actions from his dream. It wasn't yet obvious what he was dreaming about, but he looked calm and peaceful still, for the most part.
It wasn't uncommon for the Austrian to have very vivid, very detailed dreams, and this was no exception. When he finally opened his eyes in his dream, he could see the silverette above him through the dim light coming from the open window; he realized then, from the position of the bed and the window, that they were in Gilbert's room, not his. Suddenly, his body felt very warm, and he shifted slightly, eyes moving from the window back to the Prussian's face. His companion was smirking slightly, in the cocky way he usually did, but his eyes glittered with something he could only identify as happiness, though it went deeper than that. Gilbert dipped his head, kissing his lips briefly before shifting, those same lips now on his neck.
The Prussian's breath felt hot on his throat, and Roderich willingly tilted his head to the side, groaning softly in encouragement as he brought his hands up to wrap around the albino's back. When his fingertips rested on Gilbert's bare skin instead of cloth, the noble felt his eyes widen slightly, although his body remained unchanged at his sudden realization of just what it was he was dreaming about. His hazy mind cleared even more and he had a moment of lucidity, realizing neither of them was wearing anything.
Oh my God...
Shifting again, Roderich whimpered aloud, his hands tensing in the sheets. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face, his expression changing slightly, eyebrows knitting together as another soft groan escaped his lips, loud enough to be heard by the Prussian at his bedside.
In his dream, he was more like a passive observer than an actual participant. He could feel and hear everything he was doing, everything being done to him, but his body moved on its own. Not that he was lucid enough to do anything else but go along with the dream. It was obvious, even though neither of them had spoken, that this was not the first time this had happened. Apparently, in this dream, Roderich had been in a relationship with his guardian for awhile. They seemed to know exactly what to do, exactly what the other wanted. Gilbert's hands were gentle and he moved slowly, both of them taking their time with the other. That was another clue that this wasn't just some one-time moment of desire.
Even though the Austrian was lucid enough to know this was a dream and to figure certain things out, he was still pleasantly surprised when Gilbert finally spoke. "Ich liebe dich," he murmured, lips brushing against the brunette's jawline as he spoke. Although the words felt foreign in his mind, they obviously weren't in the dream. He responded by arching his back slightly, pressing their bodies together and moaning softly.
"Ich liebe dich auch," he murmured breathlessly, fingers digging into Gilbert's shoulders slightly. "Bitte, Gilbert, I want you," he pleaded in the same breathless tone, tilting his hips up against Gilbert's, rewarded with a soft hiss from the silverette.
After several minutes passed, Roderich's hair was plastered to his face, sweat beading on his forehead. His hands were twisted in the sheets, his breathing even but somewhat laboured now. Every now and then a whimper would escape his throat, soft, breathless sounds that made it very easy to guess just what it was he was dreaming about. Almost at once, the brunette tensed, his breath hitching in his throat as he went silent for a long time before he gasped, hands clawing at the sheet as a desperate moan left his lips.
The heat was so intense he thought he would suffocate. Everything had swirled together; Roderich had squeezed his eyes shut so he saw nothing and only felt. The body above him melded against his, and he heard nothing but ragged breathing and desperate sounds of encouragement, though he couldn't place from who's lips the sounds came from. Everything had gone hazy; the brunette had no sense of time and couldn't decide if only seconds had passed or if it had been minutes.
The only thing he was aware of, in a sudden moment of lucidity, was that this didn't have to be a dream. This could be reality if he wanted it to be, if he'd open his mouth and tell the Prussian the truth. It was outside his comfort zone, but if he could have this... then wouldn't it be worth it? It wasn't just the blinding pleasure that pushed him in that direction, but the sense of total happiness that surrounded him. The thought that he could really have this made his chest feel lighter; maybe he didn't know how to love someone, but if it felt anything like it did in his dream, then he wanted nothing more than to hold on with both hands and never let go.
Flexing and unflexing his hands into fists, the Austrian tilted his head to the side facing away from the silverette. He'd gone mostly quiet now, only the occasional murmur making itself heard, until..."Gilbert..."
Even though he hadn't been sleeping for very long, it was only a few minutes later that Roderich's body jerked itself awake. Gasping slightly, the dream still fresh in his mind, the Austrian blinked several times and pulled the sheets around himself securely, though the sudden action caused him to cry out in pain as he inadvertently put strain on his stitches. He had no idea that Gilbert was in the room, as he'd been facing away when he woke up, but upon turning his head back to the other side and seeing the silverette, his face went completely red. He... he doesn't know... just... stay calm... he thought frantically, trying to cover his blush by bringing a hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, hoping like hell his body hadn't somehow betrayed him in his sleep.
However, even though the noble tried to come up with something to say, something to distract from the state he was in, nothing would come. Averting his gaze from the Prussian's, he fidgeted briefly, hoping his companion would just contribute his blush to the fever that wasn't completely gone and wouldn't ask any questions.
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