People are smiling.

And people are laughing.

And he's there standing alone with his friends prodding and poking him, encouraging him to just go ask a girl to dance, to grab a drink, anything. But Gilbert can't bring himself to get up from his slumped position on the chair by the wall. Francis and Antonio plead from him to move, to just do something, but Gilbert just sighs and trains his gaze on his black Converse. There's no motivation to move, to dance, to drink. Why did he even allow himself to be dragged here?

Antonio and Francis sigh, frown at him, and leave for the moment. And Gilbert never looks up from his shoes, a frown etched on his lips, pale hair hanging in his eyes. But his neck hurts and he stretches once, eyes flittering from face to face of the party goers. And then pain floods his heart and he winces. He catches the familiar sight of a tawny-haired girl and a glasses-toting cousin of his. They're together and holding hands and smiling and Gilbert almost whines, eyes fluttering closed. This isn't fair. His friends brought him here to escape the couple, to escape the heartache of a girl who once loved him. This is all too much.

So Gilbert drags himself up from his slouch and shuffles half-heartedly to the back of the party to where the drinks and snacks rest on a long table. He stuffs a couple cookies in his mouth and snags a beer from the cooler. He's really not all that surprised that alcohol is present at this party; it's a high school shindig, and he could really use the oblivion. So he pops the top of the drink off and chokes down the cookies before downing the beer.

He's stumbling through the crowd of people, swaggering with imbalance. There's a bottle in hand and he's periodically taking sips of the depressant. Dancing teens pay him no heed and it's all so insincere. Even drunk, Gilbert knows clearly that these people are fake and these people aren't really happy.

And then Gilbert realizes something.

These people are just reflections of himself. And he's not happy. And he's not real and not sincere. In his drunken stupor, he shakes his head and makes way for the door and gosh darn it, where's Antonio and Francis because Gilbert thinks that they might be his ride home, but he can't really remember or concentrate. Oh and there's Lizzy and Roderich and Gilbert feels the need to go and punch that Austrian square in the jaw, but he just ends up throwing up on some couple smooching on the couch and he can't help but smirk as he wipes his mouth the with back of his hand because really he has no sympathy for the lovely-dovey pair. But finally, he reaches what he presumes to be the front door and stumbls with the knob. He curses under his breath and finally opens the stupid door and shuffles out, taking a swig from what must have been his eighth or ninth drink, but really, who's counting?

But it his utter disappointment, it's not the front of the house but rather the backyard. At least it's empty, he muses. But no, there's a girl. And she's sitting on a hammock tied between two trees, eyes trained on the sky. And she's got golden plaits in her hair and glossy doe eyes and Gilbert can't help but think that she might be the most beautiful think he's ever seen.

But he's also drunk. And he throws up in the grass and passes out.

"Oh. Are you awake?"

Gilbert's head is pounding and the party must not be over yet because he can hear the music resonating from the walls. But he knows he's not inside because the night breeze is soothing on his skin and there's that voice. That lovely, bell-like voice.

His eyes flutter open and he meets jade ones.

She's leaning over him, pressing a cool towel to his head and stroking a porcelain hand against his flushed cheek. "Are you alright?"

"Mm." He mutters and struggles to sit up. But he's pretty hung-over and everything hurts. The girl chuckles and helps him sit, grabbing the cloth as it slides from his forehead. "Hey kid, how long was I out?"

"Only an hour or so. I don't think you were all that drunk."

"Ugh. And this stupid party isn't over yet?! Don't these people have homes?" He inquires, head spinning.

"It's only midnight. You can expect that they'll be here for a few more hours." She shrugs and tugs on the end of her braid. With swift hands, she undoes one of the braids then just as quickly, reweaves it, twirling a hairband around the end. She does so with the other plait and stands up. She offer a tiny hand to Gilbert, but he denies her help and pushes himself off the ground by himself -albeit a little uncoordinated.

"Thanks for the help kid, but I gotta get home." He moans, pressing a hand to his temple and staggers back to the door. He then turns back to the girl and he lurches forward involuntarily, imbalanced and labile. "Goodness."

"You might want to stay for a bit longer until you're feeling better. And I don't think your friends, the Spaniard and the Frenchman am I right?, are ready to go home just yet." She smiles apologetically and folds her hands on her candy pink skirt, sitting down on the hammock once more.

Gilbert doesn't question how she knows his friends, but merely stares at the girl. She's young looking, real young and that confuses Gilbert as to why she's at a high school party. And she seems too innocent and too sweet to be found at a party like this. "Kid, how old are you?"

"Fifteen." she blinks.

"What in the world are you doing here?"

"A friend persuaded me." She pursed her lips, an unhappy look settling on her face and Gilbert can't help but think that it doesn't belong there. "And then she just ignored me for an Italian boy. I suppose I don't mind much, though. Besides, it's just so nice outside." She laughs to herself and it makes Gilbert want to smile.

Without much thought, he crosses the yard and settles himself on the hammock as well, chuckling silently as the girl lets out a yelp when the balance shifts and she tumbles back a bit. The hammock sways but finally steadies as Gilbert shifts his weight to reach a stable position on the hammock. He glances down at the girl, her face surprisingly close, and notices a cherry red painted on her cheeks. And he really doesn't know why she's blushing, but then he realizes that all the squirming he did to get comfortable on the hammock pushed her close to him, her body pressed against his. Gilbert lets out boisterous laugh and scoots away a bit to allow her room. Their shoulders are still touching as they rest on the hammock, but at least she's not practically laying on top on him now.

"Sorry, kid." he laughs awkwardly and fold his hands behind his head as a sort of cushion and goodness, his head is still pounding. "Oh hey. What's your name?"

"Lili." she smiles. "Lili Zwingli."

"That's a pretty cool name. I might say, it's almost awesome." Gilbert nods and can't help but think that the docile names fits the petite girl perfectly.

"Oh. Uh. Thank you." She chuckles and turns to fix those glossy eyes on Gilbert's ruby. "May I inquire your name?"

"Sure, no need for the fancy lingo though, kid. But it's Gilbert Beilschmidt." He looks down at the girl, down at Lili and offers her a small smile. That blush on her cheeks hasn't disappeared yet, but it's such a lovely color and she smiles up at him too. She yawns, stretching her limbs. Perhaps she's tired and it's getting pretty late, he notes.

She says nothing more, but her eyelids start to droop and she gives a little yawn that just might be the cutest thing that Gilbert's ever seen. He stiffens as her head rolls into his side and she subconsciously snuggles into his side. Snuggles.

Gilbert's eyes go wide and his face is heating up but he doesn't really know why. He's doesn't know anything about this girl and so her sleeping near him shouldn't bother him. And she's practically only a kid, about three years younger than him, so why is he even letting it get to him? And woah- Lili grabs a handful of his gray tee and pulls him near her face where she presses her nose into the cloth. Crap, crap, crap. And how in the world did the girl even fall asleep that fast anyways?

And he's laying there awkwardly, body stiff with eyes wide when Antonio enters into the backyard and spots the two. He cross through the dew-burdened grass and smirks at his friend with haughty green eyes. "Antonio, just help me." He scowls and nods at the girl on his chest.

"Why? She's cute! And like, what? Ten?" The Spaniard chuckles and carefully pries the young girl's fingers from his friend's shirt and cautiously pushes her away so that Gilbert can slide off the hammock. Once he stands, he stretches and turns to his friend, teetering in the process and Gilbert has to remind himself he's still a bit hungover. He turns to leave when Antonio's hand on his shoulder stops him. "Ya just gonna leave her there?"

"Sure. Why not?" Gilbert shrugs and glances back at Lili whose curled herself into a ball on the hammock, wrinkling her nice white blouse. He sighs and frowns. "No. No, I'm not." He carefully scoops up the girl in his arms, holding her close to him bridal style. "Not a word." He glares at the snickering Spaniard and trudges inside, head pounding all the while. The music is pounding and lights are blinding and people are still dancing and goodness, why are people still here?

"Hey! What are you doing with my friend?" Gilbert turns to meet eyes with a short girl, brown curls pulled into a ponytail with a set of thick eyebrows over hazel eyes. She's got an Australian accent, mouth set in a pout with hands on her hips. "Did you drug her?! Off to go get into that skirt?! Well I'm not letting you!"

Gilbert gapes at the girl as Antonio bursts into laughter, doubling over and clutching his sides as he continues to cackle. "No. What?! No!"

"Hm. Just making sure." The girl glares and shifts her weight on her feet. "But you can put her down now." Gilbert nods and, still bewildered, moves to set Lili on the floor. Her eyes flutter open and she yawns, standing up right as the Australian girl takes her hand. "Let's go, Lili."

She's still tired, Gilbert can tell, but she manages to nod and glances up at the Prussian. "Vielen Dank, Gilbert." She smiles wearily up at him and he's shocked because he didn't think that she'd know German and then he smiles. Because it's kind of cute with her little voice and her meek words, making the usually harsh language sound soft and lovely. The Australian girl frowns at Gilbert and tugs on Lili's sleeve, leading the drowsy girl away, leaving a still stunned Gilbert and Antonio, snickering to himself.

"Let's go get Francis and get the crap out of here." Gilbert growls and he pushes pasts Antonio and pushes past the crowd and he snatches up Francis who's so drunk he's hitting on his sister, and only pauses once to sigh wistfully at Elizaveta and Roderich before stomping out of the dumb house with the dumb party with the dumb people and all the dumbness that made this night so not awesome.

But in the midst of all these negative and demeaning thoughts, there crosses a girl with a small smile that might've, just mabye, been the slightest awesome. "Bitte schön, gern geschehen, Lili." (And Gilbert is eternally grateful that neither Francis or Antonio can speak German.)

A.N. So! Hey! I'm back with a multi-chapter song-fic of the song Enchanted by Owl City. Yes, I understand that the original is by Taylor Swift, but seeing as this story is told from the POV of Prussia, it's Owl City's cover that I'm basing it off of.

Anywhoodles! There's some mentioned characters that you might not have caught.

Australian girl: Melanie Willoughby (Wy)

Italian Melanie was hanging out with: Sergio Vargas (Seborga)

Francis's sister: Véronique Bonnefoy (Monaco)