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a-writing-bear · 7 years

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[PruCan] Chapter 2: Soft-Spoken Calling, They Want Their Shyness Back

Ao3 Link:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11159997/chapters/24905436

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’

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Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Main Pairing: Gilbert Beilschmidt & Matthew Williams (Prussia & Canada)

AU: College AU - Art Student Matthew and Media/Film Student Gilbert

Age Rating/Mature: Teen And Up Audiences (12+ due to mentions of mature themes as well as swearing)

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter (Future addiction to mention themes such as addiction, rape etc.)

Finding a hook-up was never hard. Gilbert knew how to wave and woo any guy and gal (granted he needed to actually try). Night after night, a beautiful girl, a dashing lad – it didn’t matter. Putting it simply, the way the white-haired devil seduced people was effective and singular. It was not a ‘series’ of escapades; the word ‘series’ describe the concept of continuation...what Gilbert did was not continuations, not one after another (Oh he most definitely did NOT share his lays). They were separate events to him. After a tom-foolery of sorts, it would be a good morning and goodbye; a prompt push out of the door to say the least.

It was ‘fuck’ then ‘wish them luck.’

He would carry on the next day, carrying himself in such a prideful manner one could wonder how so many looked forward to being in bed with someone like that. If anyone asked Gilbert if the evenings of a stranger after stranger got boring, he would confidently shrug the question aside with ‘the philosophy of a player’. The thought of falling in love, further than a silly high school crush, was absurd. Devotion to another human being? A sudden feeling of glee towards another human being? A day when he would experience all that seemed too far to even acknowledge.

And yet here he was, locked in staring into purple irises from a boy he had only just met. Heart panging and brain whizzing without reason or sense. Breathe. Think. Breathe, why is it so hard to breathe? Think? What order was it again? It felt breathlessly confusing.

“G-Gilbert could you like let go?” a heat rose to his face and he backed away quickly and let go of a sprig of strawberry blonde hair. A soundless sigh of relief was released by Matthew, and a flustered motion of twiddling fingers accompanied the timid look the shorter boy wore. Bathing in the seemingly, weird comfortable silence that engulfed the room the taller of the two proposed to get to know each other:

“Would you like to chill here? - I mean- like if you have nothing to do. I see you like my posters and stuff.”

Gilbert watched the reaction carefully, searching for any hatred or disgust to appear, he was aware of what reputation he had.

“eh? I’ve got art coursework and I’m sorta- I’m behind on it.”

Art coursework? Considering Matthew’s brother was a mathematical prodigy and science ‘fanatic’ (Gilbert really meant ‘geek’ but that sounded rude) he found it slightly alarming to hear that the student here was in the art stream…’although that does explain his slightly dishevelled look in that paint-covered shirt’. Gilbert found himself wanting to learn more and before he could stop himself he let it slip,

“Do you want to paint in here?”

In reality, Gilbert didn’t like studying alone. As much as he enjoyed his editing and planning scenes for his media course, it was draining sitting in a room cooped up alone. Hence why he relied on loud music to occupy his fleeting thoughts. The study hall and common room had been crowded with the varsity sports teams who were watching the campus’ big play-offs this week and the noise had been maliciously distracting. The study hall bred conversations too inane for his liking; snippets of people’s personal lives too irrelevant for Gilbert to sit through. On top of that, if needing a good environment meant travelling into the student-habitat known as the library (a place of late night coffee addicts struggling to complete 4 months of work) then he would rather fail the semester.

He had noticed the unsure reaction of the artist and gulped as the boy opened his mouth to reply:

“Well- My art stuff is already setup and messy in my room…I can’t really bring it here. Would- would you like to sit in my room? I…don’t mind.”

Gilbert’s face light up with happiness (relief as well- though he wouldn’t admit to it.), he took his laptop and charger along with a portfolio that he swore weighed more than Ludwig when he was a child and followed Matthew into the neighbours’ room. Most of the people here were the first-years, a close-knit community that, 4 out of 5 times, respected and trusted each other’s personal space so they both waltzed in carelessly not looking to shut out anyone and left the door gaping out open.

Matthew motioned for Gilbert to sit down in front of his desk. Gingerly he place his laptop down and ducked down to plug in his worn out charger. As he reclined in the Canadian’s chair he witnessed a genius in the works of what Gilbert could only describe as pure emotion splayed out on a too-small-for-it’s-worth canvas.

For a few moments, the artist had pondered whether he had made another wrongful decision inviting the albino into his safe space – thinking about it more ‘I don’t usually do this huh.’ One step within his room the thoughts seemed to melt away as he looked longingly to his painting, engrossed in the pursuit to add more paint onto the canvas Matthew didn’t notice the audience-like attention his guest was giving him. Beautiful hues of red a green were doused carefully onto the illustration of springtime bliss. “eh- I would prefer something more autumn-y or…winter.” He mused to himself and mulled over the idea of painting something for his dorm after this fairly boring assignment is finished.

“Why autumn or winter?”

He was jolted out of his caged thoughts from that question, did he say that out loud?

“I-err I don’t particularly like this piece, it’s not the best. I personally like winter landscapes mor-“

A loud gasp hit Matthew’s ears and the Albino had screeched out as if utterly bewildered by the earlier comment,

“You don’t like it?! It’s really... really good- Better than what I could ever do! I’ve been trying to find someone who could draw a scene like that for ages!” The artist’s cheeks had flamed up in such overwhelming embarrassment (and a tiny smidge of smug pride) that he almost lost the latter of what Gilbert had blurted out.

Scene? Oh. Gilbert must be a media student….-actually no wonder he seems familiar...was he that guy that sometimes appeared mysteriously near Feli and his Ludwig? – On the odd chance the departments had overlapping projects it wasn’t uncommon to find media students mingling with his fellow artists. Incidentally, he recalled about a month ago, he was commissioned by that smaller Finnish fellow (“O-Oh No I’m not Swedish, Berwald just hangs around a lot.”) to help apply face paint for a strange music video in a probably-Nordic language (I wonder if Tino did get an A for that project).

“Scene for what?”

He had obviously caught those red eyes off guard, then as if a light switch had been flicked the boy’s grin grew wide.

“An Animation! Wanna see the storyboard? I’ve been looking for an animator, seeing as my drawing skills can be described as the equivalent of a…What was that saying…um...? A fish trying to climb a tree…”

It wasn’t like Matthew was trying to be rude, however, he had tuned out Gilbert after the silver haired student had turned his heavy overloaded binder of paper for show. The page was full. It looked overly detailed, annotated words scribbled over the crudely but clearly illustrated panels of what seemed to be a short story of a young boy? As he leant down closer to investigate the piece he noticed the smaller details scrawled in between the panels like ‘Screen transition – autumn’ or ‘Redo panel, reframe’. With such a thorough and comprehensive plan, any animator would know exactly what the director would want from them. ‘Honestly, if only the people who commissioned him would give him details like that – I’m looking at you Tino’

“…Actually just realised what that fish quote meant...man that’s really smart I guess, can’t believe I…”

Oh. Gilbert was still yapping. His lavender eyes scoped up and down the page and he hummed in approval of the chatterbox’s work. He was staring so close to the page that the Canadian could feel his glasses slipping off…

“…..Hey! I should hire you to be my animator!”

Matthew had glanced so quickly at Gilbert in that moment that his glasses had slanted in the movement. This is going to be a long semester.

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