A Deleted Poem: Part 1 (PrussiaxReader)

You scrolled through your old stories and poems written on your computer, smirking at some of the most dramatic poems from your middle school years.

A forgotten boyfriend who moved away, the guy of your dreams who never caught your eye, anorexia, bulimia, suicide.

Some of the pieces brought tears to your eyes as you looked back at your painful years as a teenager. Angrily wiping away tears, you selected all of the works and hovered over a single button.

Delete.

It was as easy as that. If you deleted them, they'd never be able to haunt you again. But, at the same time, you couldn't do it. All of the time you'd put into writing those, all of the emotions you poured into every little letter that was typed onto the screen, it was part of you. The pain, the joy, the sadness; it made you. You couldn't delete it.

Thankfully, the ringing of your phone prevented you from making a decision at the time. A look at the caller ID made you laugh a bit.

The Awesome Me was calling you.

"Yes, Gilbert?"

"(F/n)!" He shouted your name as if you were deaf.

Still laughing, you held the phone away from your ear until he was finished. An amused smirk on your lips, you brought the phone back to where you could hear the snickering of your friend. "Are you done now?" you asked him, one eyebrow raised in question.

He seemed to think about the answer. In his silence, two other voices filled the space in the background.

"Tell her you love her!"

"(F/n)! Gilbert loves you~"

"He loves-"

"Mon ami?"

"I do not like that look on your face."

"Gil?"

Then screams.

You patiently waited for Gilbert to get on the line and, when you finally heard his annoyed huffing, you asked another question. "Drunk?"

"No!" he denied as you looked at the clock, "Okay, maybe just a little."

There was no such thing with the trio. "This is a new record: hardly noon and you're already drunk."

"Just a little!" he protested.

A quiet giggle passed through the line from you, making Gilbert blush a bit. Just as he was about to ask you if you wanted to meet up, your roommate, Elizabeta, called for you.

"Hey, (F/n)! Can I use your laptop?"

After apologizing to Gilbert and covering the phone with your hand, you shouted back up at her. "Yeah, just don't do anything I wouldn't!" She has a history of past offenses.

You got back on the line. "Sorry, it was just Liz. What's up?"

"Ah! I-" he faltered, "I just wanted to say hi."

"Liar!"

"You wanted to-"

Gilbert hissed something at his friends and they shut up.

Disappointment crept onto your face. "Oh, well. Hi."

A sad smile sat on the pale German's lips. "Hi."

You could hear Liz typing furiously on your computer upstairs, so you reluctantly said goodbye to Gil. "I have to go make sure she doesn't kill my laptop again, sorry. I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah. Later."

"Bye."

"Bye."

Still frowning, you hung up the phone, but changed your expression when you ran up the stairs. Liz was on her email. When she turned around, you could see tears in her green eyes.

"Lizzy? What's wrong?"

Furiously, she wiped away the tears. "No-nothing! I was just-"

Looking around her, you saw one of your more emotional poems open on the screen. "Oh Lizzy," you murmured, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug.

The strong girl began to cry again. "Why wouldn't you tell me something is wrong?!" she sobbed into your shoulder.

"I dunno, Liz," you looked up at the screen again, "I dunno." You froze, hand midway down her long hair. "Liz," you said, tone warning, "who did you send this to?"

Pulling away, she smiled cheekily up at you. "Just to someone who really deserves to know."

You pulled your gaze away from the Hungarian girl with her cheeks pink from tears. Someone had just texted you.

The Awesome Me said the following; 'Im comin over'