Chapter Text
Matthew sat in the meeting room, listening to some on-going spiel that Arthur had been giving– Yao’s turn to present his slides had started an hour and a half ago, and Francis’s two. In fact, the meeting should have been over already. God… When is this going to end? He thought to himself. Matthew was getting sick of listening to the Brit talk so much. He would say something about this whole thing, but he didn’t even bother, knowing all too well Arthur wouldn’t even hear him.
The man looked around the table at his fellow nations that were also subject to sitting through this accented garbage truck full of info that didn’t matter– he was pretty sure Arthur wasn’t even on topic anymore– just to see faces of various stages of boredom: Feliciano was balancing a pen on his top lip, Ludwig seemed to be trying to keep his attention on the man talking, Kiku was staring at a random spot on the table, Francis sat with a pained smile plastered on his face, as the ever-so-great Alfred drew comic book characters on his papers. Matthew wasn’t even sure where Ivan had gone, Yao had at some point pulled out a book and started reading, and Gilbert was asleep, drooling on his– wait, Gilbert?
What was he doing here? Does he even have to come to these meetings anymore? Whatever, Matthew couldn’t care less what the retired nation was doing, all he wanted right now was to get out of this room. Jesus Christ… I wish this stupid bushy-eyebrowed colonizer would just jump off that Big Ben of his… Matthew said internally; he had a habit of making rude remarks when faced with people he wasn’t fond of, but it didn’t seem to matter much since he wasn’t ballsy enough to say them aloud. Manners are important, you know. The Canadian began to get up from his chair to start his trek to the bathroom– no one would even notice him get up, so he decided he would grab a bagel from the snack table on his way out. Playing hooky was easy when no one notices you are even gone.
He pushed his chair in after sitting up from it, but it ended up hitting against the edge of the table. Across the sea of bored faces and loose papers, a white haired man was jostled awake at the table’s movement. Gilbert looked up to see a blond man walking away from the table and towards the snack trays. Skipping, huh? Maybe I should join in– this quiet guy looks like he would get some good out of my overwhelmingly awesome presence! Gilbert decided internally. And so, he got up right as the door closed behind the Canadian who had just left the room.
“I have to take a piss!” announced the Prussian, “don’t be afraid to miss me while I’m gone!” he added as he walked away from their meeting. The other nations just looked at him, used to his antics. “Whatever, dude,” Alfed mumbled, barely taking any of his attention off his drawings. Gilbert strode out of the door and caught sight of Matthew, who was about to turn the corner at the end of the hall. In an attempt to catch up to the blond-haired man– mind you, this was someone Gilbert barely even knew– he started to pick up his pace. Within a few seconds, he had caught up to the Canadian man, and was attempting to acquire his attention. “Hallo, there…uh…” There was a pause in his sentence, so Matthew kindly took the initiative, “Matthew Williams– Canada, that is,” he softly chimed in, used to the interaction that was someone forgetting who he was. Holy shit, just let me be… Man, I need a smoke, he thought to himself.
“Where is it that you’re wandering off to?” questioned the white-haired man. “The bathroom– maybe I’ll take a smoke for a bit or scroll on my phone. I need something to pass the time that doesn’t involve that land-stealing brat’s uncannily posh voice.” Wait, why was he telling this random guy this?! He was essentially a stranger– smoking was prohibited in this building, too! Well, shit, I’ve really done it now, eh?
“Wow! We’re in the same boat then,” blurted the man. God, he’s kind of obnoxious, thought the Canadian. Like something out of his nightmares, the Prussian blurted out, “You don’t mind if I join, do you? I was getting sick of this ‘land-stealer’ blabbering on, too. You might feel better if my awesome self is there to give you some company!” Matthew did mind, but at least he knew he was talking to someone who wouldn’t rat him out for shit talking the all-high-and-mighty Brit back in the meeting room. He didn’t hate Arthur, the Englishman just had a bit of a problem with always wanting to be in complete control, even when it wasn’t his turn– he could certainly tell where Alfred had gotten that from.
“Do what you want,” it was much easier to let go of the well-mannered speech that he usually used now that he had already gone and run his foul mouth, “just don’t tell anyone I was smoking, and I'll let you tag along.” Matthew said. “Only if you pass me a light.” Gilbert bargained. It was only fitting that their conversation had come to an end right as they reached the bathroom door.
Maybe this Gilbert guy wasn’t so bad, although Matthew couldn’t say he was a fan of the whole “awesome” act he had going on.