#polpruweek2023

Day 1

Herbstklaenge

Council-of-beetroot

Kaishouri

Goldammerchen

Day 2

Herbstklaenge

Council-of-beetroot

Kaishouri

Day 3

Herbstklaenge

Kaishouri

Council-of-beetroot

Day 4

Herbstklaenge

Kaishouri

Day 5

Herbstklaenge

Kaishouri

Day 6

Herbstklaenge

Kaishouri

Newhetaliafan

Day 7

Kaishouri

My PolPru Week Directory

The PolPru Week Prompts

Feliks was about to take the first sip of his freshly brewed tea, when by someone knocking at the door with a heavy hand interrupted him. Even when he was willing to see who was at his door, he had a bad feeling about it. Going back home had its, inconveniences, but his heart called him back once again.

When he opened the door, the visitor immediately stuck one of his shoes in the door—as if Feliks hadn't smashed intruders feet in the past.

"You're back," Gilbert said the obvious, with an annoying smirk on his face. He was wearing a dark blue ceremonial dress uniform, with a red collar and details—when was the last time he saw Prussia not wearing a uniform?

Feliks frowned. "You found where I live now, like, not creepy at all."

"Aw, would you have preferred to see Ivan?"

That made Feliks curl his lip.

"Also, you chose my place. It was just a matter of time before I found you."

His blood boiled in his veins. "What do you want—? And why can't you wear something that isn't an uniform?"

Gilbert opened his mouth, then crocked smiled. Without answering, and sooner than the resident could react, the unwanted visit pushed the door and Feliks along with it.

"Hey!" Feliks managed to keep this balance, though not to push the trespasser away. He slammed his own door, making some wall ornaments fall. Craning his head back and scrunching his eyes, Feliks clenched both of his fists. For disgrace, he wasn't in a position where he could use violence first, so he needed to navigate whatever bullshit was Gilbert scheming.

Knowing Gilbert was no more than a ruffian, even if he pretended to be a military nobleman around his people, he likely was looking for a excuse to beat him.

"Oh, sorry, I thought you invited me inside." Gil cackled, walking all the way to the chair in front of Feliks' untouched cup of tea (now popular there, not just a drink of the nobles or considered just medicine). "Nice house: how much is the rent?"

Of course Gilbert had to brush into his face the fact that Feliks didn’t have any properties under his name now. He eventually lost or sold them all while constantly moving all around his own house and around Europe, when it was the best to leave for to a while.

"None of your business—Leave my herbata alone!" He smacked Gilbert's hand, after he extended his arms towards it. Feliks sharply pushed his chair back, and as sharply sat on it. "I don't want to play your games, just tell me what you want and go away."

Gilbert leaned in his elbows on the table, intertwining his fingers below his chin. "All I want it's catching up."

Bullshit. Feliks glared at Gilbert. "As I said before, none of your business."

"So you're not going to talk about Paris? I thought you loved that city even more than your shitty cities. Well, not yours anymore."

"That again? How inventive." Feliks did his best to keep his face straight, clenching his jaw, and resisting the urge to bare his teeth. He pushed towards himself his cup of tea by the plate, seeing the steam coming from the cup.

The intruder burrowed his eyebrows for a second—now Feliks tried not to smile. Not giving him what he wanted should hopefully work.

"Mmm, so I guess you simply got bored of choking on French dick." Gilbert shrugged, raising his brows.

Feliks flared his nostrils. He looked the down his tea again, grabbed the cup, and threw the liquid to Gilbert's face, aiming for the eyes—fuck trying to deal with this carefully. Gilbert right away started to scream in pain, covering his eyes with hands, soon falling from the chair backwards.

Meantime Gilbert was wriggling in pain on the floor, Feliks merely fidgeted with a spoon, thinking that the visit was worth saving him from burning his mouth (oh, he really could be absentminded at times). Once Gilbert got on his feet, with a hand still on his face, Feliks did the same, whistling while taking the back of the chair. Faster than Feliks could lift it, Gilbert pulled a gun from his coat, taking aim by looking through his fingers.

Oh no—

He fell towards the wall, unable to control his body. Feeling blood dripping from his face, the last thing he remembered ahead of losing his consciousness, was Gilbert saying in a slightly accented Polish:

"Feliks come back!" Gilbert called, chasing after the blond. Feliks turned around and stuck out his tongue. Then he continued forward. Gilbert just stared for a second. He loved Feliks he really did, but sometimes it felt like Feliks' goal was to make him hate him.

"What did I even do?!" Gilbert yelled, going after Feliks again. Feliks turned around again. He did it a lot more sharply making the pale pink dress he wore twirl.

"You made fun of my dress! Duh!" He answered, frustratedly. Gilbert scoffed,

"It was just a drunk joke!"

"Well I didn't find it funny! I like wearing dresses that shouldn't be made fun of!"

"Come on I didn't really mean it! Your dress is awesome!"

"It wasn't five minutes ago! Don't lie to me!" Feliks turned again, ready to run away from Gilbert. The albino sensed this and moved forward much more quickly. He grabbed his boyfriend's hand.

"What now?!" Feliks snapped.

"I'm sorry."

"You better be. My crying ruined my mascara!" Feliks shouted. Gilbert had a feeling he was trying to hide that Gilbert's laughter had truly hurt him.

"I'm sorry. It was stupid of me. I may be awesome, but I still do a lot of stupid things." Feliks nodded.

"Tonight I did another one. I regret this stupid thing. I never wanted to hurt you. Your clothing style is beautiful and no one should make fun of you for it. It's one of the reasons why I love you. I hope you'll let me continue to love you." Gilbert spoke, sincerely. He needed Feliks to know he regretted it. He wanted him to know the dress he wore made him beautiful not stupid or freaky. Feliks sniffled some more.

"Ugh you just made me cry again. But now I don't care because that was so sweet. I forgive you Gilbert, but please never make fun of me again."

"Not like that. Never like that. But I will forever laugh at your cleaning skills." teased Gilbert.

"Says you who needs everything perfectly cleaned!" Feliks shot back. Gilbert laughed. Then he noticed something. It was cold outside, and Feliks was shivering. He immediately took off his jacket. He handed it to Feliks.

"Take it." He insisted. Feliks crossed his arms.

"I will not wear that."

"You're shivering! Let me make it up to you."

"But it doesn't go with this dress. At. All."

"Just wear it until we get home? Then we can snuggle under some blankets." Gilbert waggled his eyebrows. Feliks laughed,