PrussiaxReader-Office Romance 3

     "Motherfu—"
     Rather loud vulgarity filled your apartment at around five in the morning as your phone vibrated to the strains of "I'm Awesome" by Spose.  You awoke with a jolt and sat up, rapidly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you blindly groped through empty air for your phone.  Finally, your hand closed around it and you brought it to your ear.
     "What?" you snapped.  You were not a morning person.
     "Schätzlein, you coming in to work or what?"  …Of course.  Why wouldn't he call you so damn early?
     You pulled the phone away from your face and looked at the screen through blurry eyes.  The contact name was "Awesome Gil Is Super Sexy" with a picture of Gilbert he obviously took quickly while he was in the elevator waiting for you.  You tried to ignore the fact it still managed to be an adorable photo, and focus on how rude it was for him to mess with your phone.
     "It's 5:21 in the morning.  No, I'm not coming into work," you yawned.  That ridiculous kesesese~ laughter seemed to fill your head as Gilbert cackled on the other end of the line.  How was he so loud at this time of morning?  All you wanted to do was sleep, but you didn't want to be rude and just hang up on him.
     "I was hoping you did not have any clocks.  Once I got that idiot Roderich to go into work like three hours early.  It was hilarious!"
     You rolled your eyes.  "Really, three hours?"
     A pause.  "Okay, well it was more like half an hour but still, hilarious!"  
     You sarcastically laughed.  "Nice.  So who's Roderich?"
     It was as if you could feel the annoyance emanating out of your receiver.  "Mein gott, the man is pathetic.  He's this little baby-girl-man-boy Austrian who doesn't know anything about anything, und he's all prissy und obsessed with himself.  He's head of the music column, which is dumb because he doesn't like good music.  It is all Mozart und crap."
     "Mozart isn't a bad thing," you said, leaning back on your pillows and sprawling your arm across your eyes, hoping to get back to sleep.  It probably wouldn't happen.  "What's to hate about this Roderich again?"
     "He's cheap.  I mean, he's as stingy as you can get.  His food is bad und his clothes are old.  Und he's annoying.  Und…"
     "Alright, I get it.  You don't like Roderich."
     "You're a genius, ______!" Gilbert laughed.  You stuck your tongue out, not processing the fact he couldn't see you.  "You know," he continued, "I would seriously love you forever if you helped me and Francis get that guy at work."
     Your heart leapt a bit at his words but you once again ignored yourself.  You seemed to do that a lot lately.  "I don't have anything against him."
     Another pause.  "Here's something: he didn't even offer you a ride yesterday.  He just picked Eliza up und left you in the rain."  
     "Wait," you said, lifting your arm off your eyes and raising an eyebrow.  "That's Elizabeta's boyfriend?  And how did you know he picked her up and—?"  You gasped, eyes widening.  "You stalker!" you shrieked.  "You were totally stalking me.  Oh my god."
     Gilbert was laughing on the other end of the line.  "It's not like that—"
     "Too late," you said, speaking loudly so he'd hear you as you moved the phone in front of your face again to look at the screen.  "I'm changing your name to "Stalker Gil is Super Creepy"."
     Yet more laughter spilled from the phone.  The man must be giddy from exhaustion.  You certainly were.  "You at least need to keep something about awesomeness in there," he whined but you shook your head, again not processing first that he couldn't see you.
     "I have no more room in the contact space.  See you later, creeper."
     "But Schöne—"
     "Stalker," you hissed into the speaker and ended the call.  Within a second, the phone was across the room in a pile of laundry so it would no longer bother you.  You hiked up the covers and readjusted yourself on the bed, trying to get back to sleep, but at this point you were wide awake.  Your eyes stayed open as you smiled to yourself.  A feeling of warmth bubbled in your stomach as you tried your best to force your eyelids to close.
     "Motherfu—"
     "Oh for god's sake," you cried, throwing the covers to the side and marching across the room to pick up your phone.  "How did you even get that song into my ringtones?" you started when you answered, marching into your kitchen in your pajamas.  "You better not have spent any money I don't have on that crap."
     "No, no, I sent it to you.  It is everyone's ringtone for me because I am—"
     "Obnoxious?" you said, but with a smile on your face as you grabbed a box of cereal and plopped down on the futon with them, eating it like it was a bag of chips.  
     "A word I've heard many times but no, not obnoxious.  Awesome, ______!  You should know this by now!"
     Well duh, you knew that.  That's how he'd introduced himself.  "Dude, I've known you for like twenty hours.  I can't remember specific stuff like your favorite description of yourself."
     "Kesesesese~ you are funny, _______.  I did not expect that."
     "I'm not funny, I'm sarcastic.  There's a difference," you said through a mouthful of dry cereal as you flipped through the some fifteen channels you received on your tiny black-and-white-screen television.  You were so glad Gilbert could not see you now.  You were happy you lived alone, because anyone might've screamed and ran when they saw you.  Once again: not a morning person.
     "I'm screwed now.  I'll be terrible interning today since I got only a few hours of sleep," you yawned, placing your feet on your coffee table and barely paying attention to the news on the television screen.  "And…" another long yawn, "…it's your fault…jerk."  
     "Well, in my defense, Schöne, you didn't have to pick up the phone," he said in a singsong voice.  
     "Uh, yeah I did.  The volume was up all the way, and there are kids in my apartment building.  You think they needed to hear those lyrics?!"
     "Come on, _____, I have been swearing in two different languages since I was a kid.  I was so cute back then."
     'Still are,' you thought.  "You can't tell Antonio if and when I fall asleep on the job," you muttered, leaning farther back into the mattress that made up the futon.  
     "If you meet me for coffee beforehand, you won't fall asleep in the first place~," Gilbert retaliated.
     Slowly, you sat up straight.  Coffee.  With Gilbert.  This sounded strangely like an informal date.  You bit your lip, holding back a smile.  "…well I'm not paying."
     Gilbert swore, but you heard the smile in his voice.  "Fine, fine.  You play a tough bargain, ______, but I accept."
     "It would've been so much easier if you'd just let me sleep.  You could've spent the money on something besides expensive coffee."
     "Yes, but the coffee is for you.  I'd rather spend ten dollars on you, mein liebe."
     You were silent.  Jeez, he was flirting hard.  You had to admit you kind of were too, but…jeez.
     "See you at six thirty at The Swedish Coffeehouse, then.  Auf Wiedersehen, ______~".
     Click.
     You put down the phone and stared at an irritating infomercial selling who-knows-what.  Your fingers twitched and skidded absentmindedly around on your phone where Gilbert's picture lingered for a few more seconds.  Holding back a complete fan-girl squeal of sorts, you showered and changed into one of your favorite outfits, making sure to pick a shirt with a high collar since you'd be hanging around Francis and Gilbert all day.  And besides, you looked casual but nice and not too informal.  You supposed it would be a good choice.  
     When you glanced at the clock, it said 5:50.  Better get going.  
     You grabbed your bag, keys and nearly bolted out the door, almost forgetting to lock it behind you.  It took about fifteen minutes to drive and park outside of The Carriedo building, but then you'd have to find The Swedish Coffeehouse.  Hopefully it'd be close.  
     After walking around for another five minutes, the café finally came into view, marked by a Swedish flag on a sign outside the door.  Sighing with relief, you strolled into the building but were stopped short by a tall man with piercing dark blue eyes, blonde hair and glasses staring ominously down at you.  You were frozen in your spot, staring almost helplessly up at the man, who said nothing but simply stared.
     Finally, he opened his mouth and spoke in a deep, accented voice.  "Welcome."  A long pause.  "May I take your order?"
     'Oh my god…not good…why would Gilbert wanna come here…I'm freaking out…'you thought as you wrung your hands over and over.
     "I…uh—"
     "Guten Morgen!" crooned a familiar voice.  Thank god.  You turned around, smiling, expecting to see Gilbert.  He was there, but behind him trailed a group of people.  Your grin faltered a bit as you smoothed down your shirt, feeling a bit more self-conscious.
     "Sup, Berwald," smiled Gilbert as he saluted the tall man standing before you.  He grunted and nodded, stepping aside so Gilbert and his troupe could sit down at a cluster of tables.  Gilbert grabbed your arm as he passed, smirking as he pulled you with him.  "Glad you could make it, liebe.  Did you get any more sleep?"  
     You couldn't help but smile back as you shook your head.  "Nope.  I had to shower and stuff."
     "Ah, tu as pris une douche?"  
     You whipped around to stare at Francis, gob smacked.  "What did you call me?!"  Francis laughed at your reaction.
     "I just confirmed that you had showered cherie.  You know, shampoo, conditioner, water, naked, all of that?"
     You resisted the urge to smack him as Gilbert and a few others he had brought with him laughed.  Among them were Lovino Vargas and Antonio, but Lovino was not laughing.  He was blushing, glaring down at the floor and his arms were tightly crossed over his chest.  Antonio had an arm slung around his shoulder and it looked like Lovino was about to head-butt him right there.  In slight despair and slight excitement, you noticed everyone Gil had brought with him were dudes.  
     Gilbert pretended to wipe away a tear from laughing and he sat down, beckoning you to sit next to him.  "Now, Schätzlein, let me introduce you to a few people," he said, extending his arm as if showing you the world.  He clapped his hand down on a big, tall muscular guy who sat next to him, looking annoyed as he glowered down at Gilbert.  
     "This is mein bruder, Ludwig.  He writes physical education stuff und is also an editor to assist those who can't write for shit.  Which brings me to this guy," he said, pointing to a smaller man with hazel eyes, auburn-brown hair and a stray curl poking out from under his hair, not unlike Lovino's.  "This is Feliciano Vargas, who writes in the culinary section with his bruder Lovino."
     "Ciao, bella!" said Feliciano with a smile so wide his eyes squinted shut.  He was adorable!
     "Wait, Fericiano is riterate?" said another man sitting beside Feliciano.  He was Japanese with dark eyes and even dark hair.  Gil snorted.
    "Und that's Kiku Honda.  He advertises and builds stuff and criticizes Feliciano.  It's quite entertaining, actually."
    "Hey," you said smiling to the men at your table.  "I'm ¬¬¬________."
     "Nice to meet you," said Ludwig quickly before turning to Francis, batting away his hands, which were reaching to run themselves through Ludwig's slicked back blond hair.  Francis sat next to Antonio, the human shield for Lovino, who was apparently hiding in fear behind his boss's back.  
     "Und I guess that's everyone—" Gilbert began until he winced and turned around.  You followed his gaze and made eye contact with a large man looming in a booth behind the table you, Gilbert and his friends sat at.  The man in the booth had startling purple eyes, greyish blonde hair, a large nose and an eerie, childish smile partially hidden behind a scarf.  You weren't sure why he was wearing a scarf in the relatively warm weather, but his stare and passive aggressive smile didn't necessarily want to make you question him.  This guy was scarier than the Swede that had greeted you earlier.  You simply gulped and turned away.  Gilbert cleared his throat.
     "Eh, Guten Tag, Ivan.  I don't recall inviting you—"
     "привет, Gilbert.  Who is this lovely sunflower?"  Crap.  He was referring to you.
     Butterflies went frantic in your stomach as Gilbert's arm crept around your shoulder and he pulled you close to him.  "This is ________.  She will be working at Carriedo with me.  So keep your distance, Ivan.  I don't want you touching her."
     A look of rage flitted through the man's eyes before they squinted shut with an even wider smile.  His lips remained tightly closed.  There was no kindness in his grin.  Good god, did this guy work at Carriedo?  He must, if Gilbert knew him.
     "Why would I ever do that, Gilbert?"  
     "Oh, I don't know.  Because you are a creep?"
     Conversation stopped at the tables and everyone turned to look at the discussion happening between Gilbert and Ivan.  Apparently, Ivan wasn't one to be messed with.
     "Oh really?  I am a creep?  Hm.  I will have to remember these hateful words for another occasion, Mr. Beilschmidt."
     Gilbert swore in German under his breath.  You turned to face Ivan, smiling as kindly as you could without crumbling underneath his gaze.
     "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your full name, Mr. …?" you asked, trying to distract the man (who you could only assume was Russian) from plotting to harm Gilbert, kind of on your account.
     "I am Ivan Braginski.  I suppose we will be working together now, da?"
     Damn.  So he did work at Carriedo.
     Ivan stood and squeezed out of his booth.  "I suppose I might see you at work soon, then.  до свидания, _______.  Everyone," he said, smiling still and inclining his head before making his way out of the café.  Slowly but surely, conversation picked up again.
     Gilbert glared down at the table, his arm tightening around your shoulder. "I do not like that guy.  He's as scary as f—"
     "Here's your coffee," said Berwald, coming over with a tray full of cups of coffee.  Gilbert grabbed two mugs and handed you one, then replaced his arm to its original place around your shoulder.  You made no initiative to move it.  It did manage to be comforting, even though there was no need to be comforted now that Ivan had left.  
     "But I'm serious, Schöne," Gilbert began, gulping down at least half the contents of his cup in one gulp, "stay away from that Ivan, okay?  I know you know he's a scary guy.  Trust your gut—don't talk to him."  
     "Well, that's a little extreme," Antonio said, scooting his chair over to the table where you sat, Lovino close behind him.  "It's not nice to avoid people you work with.  At least stay on his good side, _______.  He wouldn't be a very good enemy."
     "Why, what's wrong with him?" you asked, looking around at everyone.  No one said anything until Lovino piped up.
     "He freaks me the hell out," he said matter-of-factly.  Gilbert smirked and Antonio laughed.
     "He seems so nice!" Feliciano said, a confused look on his face.  "Why does he scare you, fratello?"  A couple groans and scoffs rose from multiple mouths.
     "Feliciano, you're a bit of a Dummkopf," Ludwig sighed looking at the Italian beside him.  
     Arguments arose as Lovino started defending his brother and Francis routed for a fight and Antonio tried to calm Lovino down.  You simply tried to keep your eyes open as your lack of sleep settled in again.  You brought the coffee to your lips, letting the caffeine and heat wake you up as it burnt your tongue on its way down your throat.  You were contemplating leaning into Gilbert, just to get a quick nap of course, when he jumped to his feet, rattling the table.  "SHEISSE!  We're going to be really late!"
     Antonio stumbled to his feet, dragging along with him Lovino, who was gripping Ludwig's collar and yelling at him in Italian.  Jeez, he really did not like him.  Francis followed shortly behind as Ludwig pulled Feliciano to his feet, Kiku trailing along after them.  Gilbert stood aside and let you walk out from behind the table before he began to walk, paying the Swedish man on his way out.  He was moving considerably slower than the coworkers who had just abandoned the two of you.  You took three long strides to catch up with him and he smiled at you cheekily.
     "It's funny how the boss of the whole magazine company was afraid of being late.  He's the only one who can't be late."  
     You smirked at him, crossing your arms against the still slightly chilly morning air.  "Aren't we going to be late then?"
      Gilbert let out another bout of 'kesesese~' laughter.  "Prinzessin, do you really think I care about being on time?  And anyways, we really weren't going to be that late.  I just felt like getting them out of there."  
     "Why?" you asked, smiling.
     "Because I wanted to be alone with you."
     The butterflies were at it again, smashing themselves at the inside of your stomach and crashing into each other.  "They kind of showed up last minute.  I did actually intend for this coffee meeting just to be between us.  …and Antonio and Francis.  But I swear, they were the only other ones.  But Antonio wanted to bring Lovino, and Feliciano followed his bruder, who's always with mein bruder, and Kiku likes being around those two.  So you can see how my plans were destroyed.  But maybe another time, _______.  Lunch, just you und me.  Deal?"
     You were holding back a grin so wide it might give you premature wrinkles.  "Y-yeah.  Sounds good."  
     Gilbert smirked with that same self-pride set in his features that he had when he caught you the day before.  "Wunderbar."  
     You hadn't even noticed that you had already made it to the Carriedo building—you must've taken some back alleys, because it had taken you a bit longer to get to the Swedish coffeehouse from there.  
     Gilbert pushed the front door open for you.  Smiling like a loon, you thanked him and stepped inside.  What happened next was a bit interesting.  It seemed like the moment he saw Elizabeta, he ruffled your hair and said, "Wait here, liebe.  I need to get the office looking appropriate for human habitation."  And with that, he made his way to the elevator.  
     Elizabeta watched him go before turning her eyes back onto you.  She observed you for a moment.  "I see what's going on.  Don't believe him, _______.  He will be sweet and understanding and loving before he gets what he wants.  Then he's just a nuisance and a reason for heartache.  I'd step back a bit."
     You were quite startled at her words.  "I'm not…I mean…what…why do you say that, Liza?"  
     Elizabeta just turned back to her computer without saying a thing.