Unter dem Mondlicht (AU + England/Prussia)

Trying hard to curb the anger that was swelling, Gilbert ground his teeth together, and swung his legs off the armrest to straighten his position. It was true, Gilbert didn't show a great deal of gratitude to the wizard for what he done. The albino had never been very good at saying thank you, but he'd done so once or twice to Arthur, he had hoped that was enough. Clearly not.

Standing up, Gilbert picked the bottle up again and took a long drag off it. Just to be spiteful, he took another, and didn't put the bottle down, kept hold of it by the neck. One thing he'd learned back home, was that it was generally a good idea to keep hold of somethng that could be used defensively. He could overpower the wizard physically, but old habits die hard, and he was still a bgit afraid of the man.

"I'm so sorry, what would you like me to do to show my undying gratitude?" His voice came out sickly sweet, and obviously mocking the other, "Just what do you expect me to do?"

He wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that the wizard didn't even look up at him, the obivious fact that he didn't acknowledge Gilbert could be a threat, or that even Gilbert knew he wasn't a threat to the wizard. His pride could only take so much, and it wasn't handling this very well. It didn't help that part of him craved the other's attention, worse then he wanted to feel drunk. He couldn't tell if it was the man's blood that kept him so attached, but it was driving him up the wall.

"You know what," Gilbert tossed the bottle lightly, switching his hold to the base of the bottle, "Fuck you, und your shit."

As if to make his point, he flung the bottle with a flick of his wrist, smashing the bottle against the wall beyond the wizard. It wasn't until the smell of the whiskey permeated the room that Gilbert realized that was likely a really bad idea. He took a hesitant step back, eyes flickering to the door, before locking on the wizard, his stance going defiant and certain, though he nearly trembled inside.

He could feel the fear creep into him, taking sharp hold as the wizard stood up. Gilbert felt his body go tense, forced himself not to back away, and just keeping from shaking. He was fucked, ad he was well aware of it. Jaw clenched, and eyes narrowed, he glanced at the bottle's remains.

He hadn't read enough of the book to really feel comfortable. But staying now, it seemed like the more idiotic choice. If he'd been home, he would have been in a yelling match with his father by now, and would have stormed out and gone to sleep on Elizaveta's couch. But this wasn't home, and Arthur's anger was colder, more cruel, yet less resentful, then his Vater's.

Feeling that leaving, running from this fight would be the most logical choice, Gilbert took half a step back, "Screw you."

His voice came out less shakey then he thought it would, and he took a full step back as he spoke, already targeting the door as his escape, and getting ready to bolt.

The step Arthur took cause Gilbert to take another, more quickly. He was turning to make a run for the door when the shout came and the pressure slammed into Gilbert. He gasped, and just barely kept on his feet, the pain that surged through him knocking him off kilter for a moment. He grabbed at his chest, then rushed towards the door, almost falling again as he managed to get outside.

As soon as he was out the door, the pressure, the physical pain disappeared, leaving him shaken and gasping as he moved off the front steps. Shooting a nasty glare back at the house, already knowing that he was going to regret his decision, and left. Being fully fed, it was not hard to pick up his speed, and set his mind to the task of finding a place to spend the day.

He ended up spending the night in one of the old warehouses he'd used back before Arthur had found him. Gilbert managed to spend a few days hiding out, and avoiding the wizard's home, before the lonliness got to be too much. First he went home, watching from a distance, checking up on his brother and father, then found himself returning to the long road that led back to the wizard's home.

He knew an apology would be needed if he wanted to be let back in. He couuldn't see himself saying it alloud, couldn't fight off the pettiness that claimed he shouldn't even be lurking here, that he didn't need the wizard, long enough to do so. He stole a bottle of whiskey, the same brand as the bottle he'd broken, and brought it with him while he lurked in a tree not too far from the wizard's house, intent on using it as a peace offering.

He spotted the wizard finally coming outside, and stayed in his tree for a bit longer. Working up the nerve to acctually go down to talk to the wizard. Gilbert passed the bottle back and forth between his hands. Slowly, almost reluctantly, he climbed out of the tree. He worked hard to be as quiet as possible.

He was more grungy looking then he'd been since he had started staying with Arthur. He was clean, mostly, his clothes grass stained, oil and dirt, and something suspiciously dark staining his jeans. His hood pulled up, and keeping his hair from being so noticeable in the dark. He crossed the yard, stopping at what he deemed was a safe distance away. He knew he couldn't really expect to be safe where he was, but he was at least out of range of the sword.

He held the bottle loosely in one hand, letting it hang by his leg. His other hand stuffed into his hoodie pocket. Pressing his lips together, he tried not to fidget as he waited to be acknowledged.

The way the wizard stared at him, Gilbert was almost certain that Arthur was going to pull out his wand and finally just kill the vampire. He wouldn't have been particularly surprised if Arthur had. But the wizard made no move to do so, and Gilbert took it as a sign that he was doiing okay.

He reached up to push his hood off, and offered a grin, "Sleeping in a warehouse has that effect, ja?"

Hesitating for a moment, he shifted his weight a bit nervously. He couldn't forget the fear he'd felt when he pissed Arthur off before having his invitation revoked. Slowly, Gilbert lifted the bottle up, and held it out for Arthur to take it. His gaze shifted, head tilted so he could look off to the side and wouldn't have to make eye contact as he made his apology, "Here... to replace the one I broke."

At the question, Gilbert lowered the bottle again, and licked his lips, trying to think of an answer. He didn't quite know how to deal with having to explain his motives; he'd genuinely hoped that Arthur would just take the bottle and that would be the end of it.

He shrugged his shoulders, still refused to look at the other, "Dunno."

If he'd still been able to, he likely would have blushed a little. Embarassed to admit, even to himself, how sorry he was he'd picked that fight and how much he wanted back into the house. He hadn't really had to apologize to anyone in so long, that doing so now felt weird.

"Do you want it or not?" He meant it to come out snarky, but his voice sounded somehow weak and quiet, even to his own ears.

Gilbert gave a small nod. He wasn't just back because he wasn't ready to be on his own. When he'd left the part of him that had craved the man's attention had become blaringly painful and aggravating. He couldn't bare to be alone, and no mattter how many humans he surrounded himself with, it didn't ease it. The raves and parties, the bars, were fun, but they weren't enough.

He shifted his weight again, stuffing his one hand back into his pocket, "I'll keep all destructiveness to myself."

It was a promise, albeit a weak one. Gilbert couldn't stand the idea of being left alone, and if promising to be good would let him back into the house, he could do that. Sorta. He'd at least try. "I'll.... be good."

It wasn't hard to fall back into a routine once he was back at Arthur's. he woke up in the evenings, went out to feed most nights, but the time spent in the house was very predictiable. He did put an effort into not following the wizard around, and tried to spend a little more time reading the books. He just couldn't felt his focus slipping whenever he spent too long staring at the words. He found he could read it more easily when Arthur wasn't in hearing range, so he felt safersounding the words out as he went. He still wasn't very far in the books though.

He expanded his hunting grounds, moving further from the wizards home, moving up higher. It was becoming obvious that the more of his supernatural abilities he used, the less time he could wait between feedings. The longer travels were zapping him a lot quicker, but they were making it easier to avoid aggravating the wizard more then need be.

By the end of the week, Gilbert found a comforting schedule to go by. He came back fairly late, with a few hours away from sunrise, and enough time to get some reading done and maybe lurk around the wizard for a while. The house appeared empty when he first entered it, but with a little focus and the use of his senses, he could track the wizard down to the basement.

Gilbert shrugged his hoodie off and left it on the armchair, before heading down stairs. His skin was a bit flushed from his recent feeding, most of the grimy look he'd had the week prior gone thanks to the use of the wizard's shower, and a few new clothes he'd 'picked up' a few nights ago. Not bothering to hide his presence, Gilbert hopped down the last few stairs, landing lightly, took one sweeping glance of the basement, then made his way over to the bookshelf.

He paused half way there, catching sight of the twisted thing the Wizard was working on, "The fuck is that?"