Seven Times Feliks Calls Gilberts Name - CHP. 1

“Ty maluczku!” (You little wretch!)

An angered shout thundered from his vocal chords, eyes narrowing in complete anger and annoyance as laughter rung loudly not too far away from where he was. The pitter patter of feet against the grass sounded abruptly after his shout, a glimpse of crisp white locks coming into view.

The door to the small cottage had slammed open; peach colored skin immediately being struck by the sun that shine through the opening of the door, the greeting of the spring day bringing very little comfort as it usually does. Emerald hues glared off towards the little imp that had purposely snuck his way into his country yet again, successfully scaring the daylights out of his poor horses and other animals.

Was this little kurwa out to get him? To make his life a living hell? Was that it?

As the little culprit started to make his hasty escape, Feliks Łukasiewicz decided at that moment that he was done playing games and allowing this małe gówno (little shit) to escape so easily. “To prawie tak, jakby to dziecko NIE miało dyscypliny!” (It’s almost as if this child has NO discipline! Ugh!) Of course, Poland was aware that Gilbert did, indeed, have discipline. A nation as honorable—Euch, he loathes to admit it, given his general distaste for the Germanic nation; but, it would be a lie to claim he wasn’t honorable—as Alwin would not allow his child to become a delinquent. Still, this boy is too much!

The Slavic nation was extremely agile, it was something he could pride himself in. So, it wasn’t long until he dashed as fast as his legs could take him, out of the large clearing filled with grass and beautiful flowers and into the large forest. The wind is singing as it blows cool air through his golden locks, eyes remain locked onto his target, the child that—he doesn’t know it now, but will turn his life around in the near future. It will all come in time. Yes—time. Years will pass like a blink of an eye for them, they will follow it with speed such as the hare, whereas time will remain behind them as the tortoise.

He soon found himself chasing the Germanic child in a small path within the forest.

Poland knew this path, and he knew that if he followed it for more than 236 miles that he would soon reach German territory.

He assumed that’s where the child was trying to get to. But oh no, he would not let him get there. If anything, he would catch the little troublemaker and take him there himself. He would also be sure to give Alwin a piece of his mind about keeping his spawn out of his territory!

A light breeze stirs the strands of his hair into a tantric dance, his legs creating more and more speed as he can easily see the child getting closer to him to the point where they were inches apart and feliks could easily reach his hands out and snatch the kid up.

SPLAT

…………………

The silence was deafening.

The only thing that broke it was the high laughter that came from in front of him as the mud ball that had just been flung at him covered the entirety of his face. His hair tangled itself in it, and wide green were clenched shut, completely shell shocked and not expecting that whatsoever.

Feliks was too much in shock to respond right away as he tried to wipe the stuff off his face, and he heard the little shit shout out teasing phrases as he could easily be heard running away soon after. The Polish nation soon found himself able to see again, watching the albino running down the path that would lead him back into German territory if he followed it for another 230 miles. 

A sharp inhale, eyes filled with such pique as soft lips opened in order to shout:

“GILBERT!”

That’s not the first time that name has rolled off his tongue, and it most definitely won’t be the last time.

In fact, it’s one of the seven times.