“Ouch,” you muttered boredly, looking down at the shallow scrape on your finger. You watched as the blood welled up, forming a small, red bead against your knuckle.
Other than that, you ignored the small wound, continuing with searching for your currently ringing phone. The annoying chime continued to sound over and over while you dug through the blankets covering your bed. Finally finding the small device, you clutched it to your ear after accepting the call.
Sighing a bit, you shifted the phone to your other ear, trying to arrange your bed half decently. “Hello?”
“(F/n)!” you heard the loud shout from the other end. You hadn’t bothered to check caller ID.
Heaving up another sigh, you forced a smile on your tired face. “Hey, Gilbert.”
“What’s wrong? Are you upset? You sound upset!” Suddenly, the German boy was bombarding you with questions.
Closing your eyes, you rubbed your temple. “No, Gil. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? It’s not awesome to lie to me.”
“Yes I realize that,” a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth, “I’m just a bit tired. I’m going to lie down for a bit,” you bit your lip, squinting your eyes just enough to see the pile of pillows and blankets on your bed, “Text you later?”
You didn’t really hear his response, but you did end up hanging up the phone and throwing yourself down onto your bed, rolling a bit until you were hidden under the covers. Eyes falling shut once more, you slowly felt yourself slip into subconsciousness, headache fading away along with the remnants of awakeness.
Until, that is, someone began pounding on your door. Groaning, you rolled out of bed and staggered to the door. You took hold of the knob to open the door as well as brace yourself against the tide of dizziness that had engulfed you.
Gritting your teeth, you wrenched open the door to reveal a worried looking Gilbert. He quickly covered his look of concern with an easy grin.
One brow lifted, you asked the man why he had chosen to show up at your house just when you had told him you were taking a nap. His grin softened and he stepped closer to you, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “No reason!” he told you, grin renewing itself as he pushed past you into your own house.
“Great,” you muttered, closing the door behind you and flopping down onto the couch. Something in Gilbert’s red eyes seemed sad, not that he let you see. Your heavy eyelids fell shut once again as you felt your legs move up, then down as someone sat with you on the sofa.
Winking one eye open, you saw Gilbert slouching in his seat, TV remote held in his hand as he flipped through channels. A small sigh left your parted lips as you once more slipped into an uneasy sleep.
Gilbert turned to see your sleeping face and doubted your previous statement over the phone. Your brow was furrowed and breaths frantic, even in sleep. Pressing his thin lips together, the pale man turned off the TV and carefully shifted you so that you were in his arms and he was laying next to you.
Soothing German words were whispered in your ear and a rough hand gently ran through your hair, pushing it away from your temple. A deep breath shuddered through your lungs at his touch, which evened out after a short time.
One of your hands was loosely held to your chest by the other- the one with the scrape. With a touch so gentle it could’ve been mistaken as the wind, Gilbert shifted it closer to him, softly brushing his lips against the broken skin before falling asleep as well, your hands held tightly in his own.