Pandora Hearts: New Lesson
For evercool who made me awesome and ever so pretty art. ♥
Characters/pairings: Gil p.o.v, GilxOz
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "Gilbert's always been a special case," Break intervened, showing up in the most annoying ways as he always did, to spout his idea of wisdom.
Notes: It's a sort of Christmas fic, which I haven't written in ages, but you know, spirit and all that... hopefully.
“But what’s the point?”
It wasn’t often I agreed with the annoying rabbit, but right now was definitely one of those rare moments.
“It’s festive,” beamed Sharon, passing the rabbit a handful of baubles as if that would make her understand, “and tradition.”
She didn’t understand. Alice eyed the baubles suspiciously and then eyed Sharon with an even warier gaze. I could understand her reluctance, not only because the whole Christmas deal wasn’t my thing, but because the girl looked like Christmas was trying to swallow her. Swallow her whole. What with the tinsel in her hair and wrapped around her arms and bits of glitter sticking to her skin and just bits of crap all over.
“Come on, Alice. It’s fun.” Oz moved quickly, saving a shiny pink bauble from the terrors of Alice’s mouth and crazy teeth and then said, “Everybody likes Christmas.”
The rabbit frowned and then kind of sneered because her snacks had been taken, then looked all around the room.
“Seaweed head’s just sat there.”
She pointed at me then, one of those mad stabbing points that makes everybody look; and Oz turned and got on that disappointed frown of his. The one that makes me squirm a little inside because I hate to be the one that makes him upset like that. Or in general, but most people understand that.
“Giiiiil?” He knew the whining tone always had an effect. I winced.
“How come he doesn’t have to join in?” From somewhere she’d gotten berries, plastic ones that she was now cracking between her teeth.
“Gilbert’s always been a special case,” Break intervened, showing up in the most annoying of ways as he always did, to spout his idea of wisdom.
Of course I ignored him.
Oz continued to look confused, his eyes getting all scrunchy and sort of wistful, and it was then that Sharon took pity on him.
“Gil’s never liked Christmas. It was hard enough work trying to get him to look happy normally.”
Break said, “We called it his Oz brooding time.”
Sharon didn’t miss a beat; I guess she was used to his oddities. I couldn’t say I felt the same way.
“Never mind at Christmas. So we don’t force him to join in.” She smiled at me and looked like a demented Christmas fairy. Tinsel, I’ll always hate it. “Gil prefers to-” She waved her hand in my direction, a glitter snowstorm falling to the ground. It’d be hell to get out of the carpets. Nobody ever thought of the poor servants.
“To brood,” Break finished.
Now everybody was staring.
In all fairness I wasn’t brooding, I just wasn’t joining in. Or I was, just in my own unique way - which happened to be me sitting on the balcony and enjoying a cigarette (it wasn’t a quitting week) and watching everyone else get Christmas crap all over them.
“But you used to enjoy all of this. Right?” I knew what Oz was doing, he was thinking back to those Christmas’ past, which was exactly what I always did, and you can see why I’d get completely depressed.
A forlorn bauble hung limply from his hand, like I was crushing the spirit of Christmas by the second. “I remember you liking Christmas.”
Oh God! I shrugged because I wasn’t really sure what to do without crushing the spirit further, and Oz’s throat was doing that little bobbing thing where it looked like he was swallowing or breathing really rapidly. It was very distracting.
“Gil?”
Right. Concentrate.
You see at this point Oz was actually wrong. The first Christmas I’d spent at the Vessalius house I’d been the rabbit, except far less annoying and demanding... and demented. I hadn’t really understood the point in it all, sure it looked pretty and all shiny, and Oz and Ada were clearly enjoying everything, so I guess it had rubbed off on me. But it took me a while to actually understand the point of it. Which was, of course, when everything had gone downhill.
So Christmas had been kind of fun for those few years, but then everything had changed and Oz had gone and I’d left the Vessalius house and gained (and well, re-gained) my brothers. It had been different at the Nightray house and not just because now I was the sort of noble instead of the nervous young servant trying to do his best.
The most important part about it all was that Oz had gone, and it was a little difficult to get excited about dressing up a tree and hanging stuff from a fire when the person who had enjoyed it the most, as well as introduced you to everything, was no longer around to see it.
Later on Break and Sharon had tried to bring some of that enthusiasm back, but I guess I just saw it all as a waste of time when those precious seconds could be better spent preparing myself or searching for some way to bring Oz back to me.
I guess lately I’d just been too busy and concerned to celebrate it. I was past the point of caring and honestly, it caused a lot of mess. Nobody ever thought of the servants.
“He’s lost in his anti-Christmas daze,” Break stage whispered and whilst I’d been thinking, not brooding, he’d snuck up by my side to deliver a handful of stringy tinsel hell into my hair.
I glared at him, stubbed out my cigarette and brushed the stuff off of my head. I could practically feel the rabbit’s superior smirk, watching. Wait ‘til I accidentally tipped glitter all over her, then we’d see who was laughing.
Weeks, that’s how long the stuff took to leave every inch of your skin; it’d even end up sitting on your eyelashes.
Anyway, Oz was still looking like the long lost puppy kicked, and it was kind of killing me.
I sighed, “I’m not anti-Christmas, I just...” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence without revealing the woe was all about Oz. And I didn’t think it would get rid of the kicked puppy. If anything it’d probably intensify it.
“Then you’ll join in?”
“Well, that’s not...”
“Good. Here,” he walked up to me and threw a garland of bushy tree and pinecones around my neck.
I’d had ten years to grow up without Oz and learn some kind of perspective on life that he hadn’t, and yet I still couldn’t win one of his arguments, or apparently open up my mouth to finish a sentence. Reluctantly I stood up and unwrapped the thing from my neck. At least it wasn’t glitter. Oz was pointing at the fireplace, so I started to make my way over.
Passing Break made him throw another garland at me as he made annoying whipping noises and snickered to himself. This was coming from someone who was under the thumb of a look-a-like thirteen-year-old girl. And he thought I had problems.
“What’s this?” Alice had found herself the spiced Christmas apples and was considering them edible. She was probably wondering why we didn’t hang ham and chicken legs off the tree.
“You can’t eat it, rabbit. It’s a decoration.”
She stared at me and hissed, like an angry cat. “I know that, I just meant where does it belong.”
“Not in your mouth.”
Stare. Hiss.
“You can put it wherever you like, Alice. How about over there?” Which was the opposite direction from me and would probably hold the peace for all of about five minutes, my Oz was such a peacekeeper.
“Oh!” There was a squealing noise that was probably only audible to the stray dogs outside and then, “Look what I found!” Sharon was being devoured by a box so nobody could see what she’d found, half a minute later though and she re-appeared holding mistletoe.
“What is it?” The rabbit.
I was about to retort that it wasn’t edible, but I figured it wouldn’t earn me any points on the Oz popularity poll.
“Mistletoe,” Sharon half sang, twirling it around in her fingers and looking like a cat that had got the cream. If she went near Oz I would kill her.
“You hang it from doors,” Oz explained and Alice shrugged, “And it’s tradition that when two people meet under it, they kiss.”
Alice yawned and sniffed at her apple. “Like a contract? We already did that.” I could see Oz blushing and stuttering and Sharon was looking starry-eyed and manic.
The fact that part of the garland in my hands disintegrated had nothing to do with it.
“Well, not really. It’s just... Oh! Remember the mistletoe, Gil?”
Everybody looked.
I could already feel my face flooding red and I didn’t need to hear Break snickering loudly in my ear, perversely.
“I bet he does.” Break’s elbow was now working its way into my ribs.
The problem with Break was that he was an ass. An ass that you couldn’t be an ass back to because he always twisted your words around until you ended up looking like the fool.
I’d learnt over the years it was better not to say anything. You got in less trouble that way.
“Huh?”
Thankfully my Oz was always surprisingly naive when it came to, well... this matter.
“What happened?” Sharon near whispered and she was looking at me like I’d betrayed her in some way by not revealing all of my secrets.
“It was Ada,” Oz laughed and he missed the soft disappointed ‘oh’ that left Sharon’s mouth. “She’d be hiding behind all of the doors, waiting to grab anyone who walked anywhere near the stuff.”
It had been cute really and terrifying. Sneaking through doors as quietly as you could and waiting for the little, tiny slip of a girl to assail you with kisses. Carrying hot tea had never been so deadly.
Sharon went over to hang her branch up, smiling, and you could tell that she’d be the same way, hiding behind doors and making everybody terrified of her. Although she’d probably be even more threatening. Break walked over and started teasing her, making her all flustered over the idea of kissing and boys. It was sweet really, their relationship, maybe a little twisted.
Oz walked over, ignoring the chaos and flicked his fingers at me, glitter flying off and hitting me in the chest. It wasn’t as bad when Oz did it, I could see he was being playful and not just irritating.
“So what’s up? You really don’t like Christmas?”
I could tell that this had to be answered carefully. It’d be the difference between a peaceful few weeks or a nightmare of a run up into Christmas with an Oz on a mission. I could imagine it now: getting up at the crack of dawn to ice gingerbread and cutting paper snowflakes and searching for carol singers. Sure the time with Oz would be worth it, but no doubt the rabbit would have to come and it’d be a trio project and I could see a lot of bickering.
I was tempted to crack open the cigarette’s, to help me deal with the stress and all. Plus it would give me something to do with my mouth, instead of coming out and saying something stupid.
“I think it’ll be better this year.”
I leaned back and tried to look cool but it wasn’t working. God that had been sappy and I know that I had that face on, the one that looked like I might cry any second. Break had always said I could dress like the big man but I’d never actually become him. It was sad when the mad man of the group was right about things.
Oz was smiling though and then he was grinning and rocking on his feet. I was starting to get slightly worried until he leaned forward, punched me on the arm and then set off laughing to himself. Clearly he was going to go about Elliot’s way of dealing with feelings, except Elliot would have probably shouted at me to shut up whilst he was at it. Oz was just carrying on with the crazy laughter.
It was familiar really, because he used to laugh all the time and just forget everything and that’s what he was doing now, just having a good time.
“Oz!” There was the demanding tone. She always ruined good moments.
“Oz, we have to find a star somewhere and then put it on the tree.”
There was a muffled voice from outside the room and then, “It’s hiding in a box; we have to go look for it. Now!”
“Right!” Oz had stopped laughing now but he still looked happy and maybe a little put out, which was probably down to the rabbit and her demanding.
“Oz!”
“We’re coming,” he shouted to her and then turned to me, “You want to help? You can put the star on even; it might change your mind.”
He was too nice for his own good really. Selfless, that’s what my Oz was. And of course I’d help him; he’d probably need distracting in the long run from the demented one.
“Good!” Oz had that look in his eye, which really I should have been wary about.
So we started to make our way to the door, got sort of half way through it, and that was when he attacked. The next minute I found myself roughly pushed against it. Which actually isn’t as smooth as it sounds, wooden doors hurt when you’re pushed against them and door handles do this thing where they dig into your back.
None of that mattered though because Oz was smirking and he had his hands on my chest, the reason I was pushed against the door, which I only now realised because of the heat radiating through my shirt. The funny thing was I had no idea what they were doing there.
“What... Oz?”
“You never answered when I asked if you remembered the mistletoe.”
“Oh.”
“So I thought that maybe you needed a reminder.”
I couldn’t really answer to that though because Oz’s fingers were twisting around my shirt collar and pulling, and then he had a hand in my hair and his lips were against mine and it kind of made talking altogether difficult. It made it impossible when Oz’s tongue pushed its way into my mouth, but by that point I’d passed caring.
The rabbit would have to wait a little while; Oz and I were celebrating Christmas.
Memories just wouldn’t do it.
End.
Comments and crit are loved.
Characters/pairings: Gil p.o.v, GilxOz
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "Gilbert's always been a special case," Break intervened, showing up in the most annoying ways as he always did, to spout his idea of wisdom.
Notes: It's a sort of Christmas fic, which I haven't written in ages, but you know, spirit and all that... hopefully.
“But what’s the point?”
It wasn’t often I agreed with the annoying rabbit, but right now was definitely one of those rare moments.
“It’s festive,” beamed Sharon, passing the rabbit a handful of baubles as if that would make her understand, “and tradition.”
She didn’t understand. Alice eyed the baubles suspiciously and then eyed Sharon with an even warier gaze. I could understand her reluctance, not only because the whole Christmas deal wasn’t my thing, but because the girl looked like Christmas was trying to swallow her. Swallow her whole. What with the tinsel in her hair and wrapped around her arms and bits of glitter sticking to her skin and just bits of crap all over.
“Come on, Alice. It’s fun.” Oz moved quickly, saving a shiny pink bauble from the terrors of Alice’s mouth and crazy teeth and then said, “Everybody likes Christmas.”
The rabbit frowned and then kind of sneered because her snacks had been taken, then looked all around the room.
“Seaweed head’s just sat there.”
She pointed at me then, one of those mad stabbing points that makes everybody look; and Oz turned and got on that disappointed frown of his. The one that makes me squirm a little inside because I hate to be the one that makes him upset like that. Or in general, but most people understand that.
“Giiiiil?” He knew the whining tone always had an effect. I winced.
“How come he doesn’t have to join in?” From somewhere she’d gotten berries, plastic ones that she was now cracking between her teeth.
“Gilbert’s always been a special case,” Break intervened, showing up in the most annoying of ways as he always did, to spout his idea of wisdom.
Of course I ignored him.
Oz continued to look confused, his eyes getting all scrunchy and sort of wistful, and it was then that Sharon took pity on him.
“Gil’s never liked Christmas. It was hard enough work trying to get him to look happy normally.”
Break said, “We called it his Oz brooding time.”
Sharon didn’t miss a beat; I guess she was used to his oddities. I couldn’t say I felt the same way.
“Never mind at Christmas. So we don’t force him to join in.” She smiled at me and looked like a demented Christmas fairy. Tinsel, I’ll always hate it. “Gil prefers to-” She waved her hand in my direction, a glitter snowstorm falling to the ground. It’d be hell to get out of the carpets. Nobody ever thought of the poor servants.
“To brood,” Break finished.
Now everybody was staring.
In all fairness I wasn’t brooding, I just wasn’t joining in. Or I was, just in my own unique way - which happened to be me sitting on the balcony and enjoying a cigarette (it wasn’t a quitting week) and watching everyone else get Christmas crap all over them.
“But you used to enjoy all of this. Right?” I knew what Oz was doing, he was thinking back to those Christmas’ past, which was exactly what I always did, and you can see why I’d get completely depressed.
A forlorn bauble hung limply from his hand, like I was crushing the spirit of Christmas by the second. “I remember you liking Christmas.”
Oh God! I shrugged because I wasn’t really sure what to do without crushing the spirit further, and Oz’s throat was doing that little bobbing thing where it looked like he was swallowing or breathing really rapidly. It was very distracting.
“Gil?”
Right. Concentrate.
You see at this point Oz was actually wrong. The first Christmas I’d spent at the Vessalius house I’d been the rabbit, except far less annoying and demanding... and demented. I hadn’t really understood the point in it all, sure it looked pretty and all shiny, and Oz and Ada were clearly enjoying everything, so I guess it had rubbed off on me. But it took me a while to actually understand the point of it. Which was, of course, when everything had gone downhill.
So Christmas had been kind of fun for those few years, but then everything had changed and Oz had gone and I’d left the Vessalius house and gained (and well, re-gained) my brothers. It had been different at the Nightray house and not just because now I was the sort of noble instead of the nervous young servant trying to do his best.
The most important part about it all was that Oz had gone, and it was a little difficult to get excited about dressing up a tree and hanging stuff from a fire when the person who had enjoyed it the most, as well as introduced you to everything, was no longer around to see it.
Later on Break and Sharon had tried to bring some of that enthusiasm back, but I guess I just saw it all as a waste of time when those precious seconds could be better spent preparing myself or searching for some way to bring Oz back to me.
I guess lately I’d just been too busy and concerned to celebrate it. I was past the point of caring and honestly, it caused a lot of mess. Nobody ever thought of the servants.
“He’s lost in his anti-Christmas daze,” Break stage whispered and whilst I’d been thinking, not brooding, he’d snuck up by my side to deliver a handful of stringy tinsel hell into my hair.
I glared at him, stubbed out my cigarette and brushed the stuff off of my head. I could practically feel the rabbit’s superior smirk, watching. Wait ‘til I accidentally tipped glitter all over her, then we’d see who was laughing.
Weeks, that’s how long the stuff took to leave every inch of your skin; it’d even end up sitting on your eyelashes.
Anyway, Oz was still looking like the long lost puppy kicked, and it was kind of killing me.
I sighed, “I’m not anti-Christmas, I just...” I didn’t know how to finish that sentence without revealing the woe was all about Oz. And I didn’t think it would get rid of the kicked puppy. If anything it’d probably intensify it.
“Then you’ll join in?”
“Well, that’s not...”
“Good. Here,” he walked up to me and threw a garland of bushy tree and pinecones around my neck.
I’d had ten years to grow up without Oz and learn some kind of perspective on life that he hadn’t, and yet I still couldn’t win one of his arguments, or apparently open up my mouth to finish a sentence. Reluctantly I stood up and unwrapped the thing from my neck. At least it wasn’t glitter. Oz was pointing at the fireplace, so I started to make my way over.
Passing Break made him throw another garland at me as he made annoying whipping noises and snickered to himself. This was coming from someone who was under the thumb of a look-a-like thirteen-year-old girl. And he thought I had problems.
“What’s this?” Alice had found herself the spiced Christmas apples and was considering them edible. She was probably wondering why we didn’t hang ham and chicken legs off the tree.
“You can’t eat it, rabbit. It’s a decoration.”
She stared at me and hissed, like an angry cat. “I know that, I just meant where does it belong.”
“Not in your mouth.”
Stare. Hiss.
“You can put it wherever you like, Alice. How about over there?” Which was the opposite direction from me and would probably hold the peace for all of about five minutes, my Oz was such a peacekeeper.
“Oh!” There was a squealing noise that was probably only audible to the stray dogs outside and then, “Look what I found!” Sharon was being devoured by a box so nobody could see what she’d found, half a minute later though and she re-appeared holding mistletoe.
“What is it?” The rabbit.
I was about to retort that it wasn’t edible, but I figured it wouldn’t earn me any points on the Oz popularity poll.
“Mistletoe,” Sharon half sang, twirling it around in her fingers and looking like a cat that had got the cream. If she went near Oz I would kill her.
“You hang it from doors,” Oz explained and Alice shrugged, “And it’s tradition that when two people meet under it, they kiss.”
Alice yawned and sniffed at her apple. “Like a contract? We already did that.” I could see Oz blushing and stuttering and Sharon was looking starry-eyed and manic.
The fact that part of the garland in my hands disintegrated had nothing to do with it.
“Well, not really. It’s just... Oh! Remember the mistletoe, Gil?”
Everybody looked.
I could already feel my face flooding red and I didn’t need to hear Break snickering loudly in my ear, perversely.
“I bet he does.” Break’s elbow was now working its way into my ribs.
The problem with Break was that he was an ass. An ass that you couldn’t be an ass back to because he always twisted your words around until you ended up looking like the fool.
I’d learnt over the years it was better not to say anything. You got in less trouble that way.
“Huh?”
Thankfully my Oz was always surprisingly naive when it came to, well... this matter.
“What happened?” Sharon near whispered and she was looking at me like I’d betrayed her in some way by not revealing all of my secrets.
“It was Ada,” Oz laughed and he missed the soft disappointed ‘oh’ that left Sharon’s mouth. “She’d be hiding behind all of the doors, waiting to grab anyone who walked anywhere near the stuff.”
It had been cute really and terrifying. Sneaking through doors as quietly as you could and waiting for the little, tiny slip of a girl to assail you with kisses. Carrying hot tea had never been so deadly.
Sharon went over to hang her branch up, smiling, and you could tell that she’d be the same way, hiding behind doors and making everybody terrified of her. Although she’d probably be even more threatening. Break walked over and started teasing her, making her all flustered over the idea of kissing and boys. It was sweet really, their relationship, maybe a little twisted.
Oz walked over, ignoring the chaos and flicked his fingers at me, glitter flying off and hitting me in the chest. It wasn’t as bad when Oz did it, I could see he was being playful and not just irritating.
“So what’s up? You really don’t like Christmas?”
I could tell that this had to be answered carefully. It’d be the difference between a peaceful few weeks or a nightmare of a run up into Christmas with an Oz on a mission. I could imagine it now: getting up at the crack of dawn to ice gingerbread and cutting paper snowflakes and searching for carol singers. Sure the time with Oz would be worth it, but no doubt the rabbit would have to come and it’d be a trio project and I could see a lot of bickering.
I was tempted to crack open the cigarette’s, to help me deal with the stress and all. Plus it would give me something to do with my mouth, instead of coming out and saying something stupid.
“I think it’ll be better this year.”
I leaned back and tried to look cool but it wasn’t working. God that had been sappy and I know that I had that face on, the one that looked like I might cry any second. Break had always said I could dress like the big man but I’d never actually become him. It was sad when the mad man of the group was right about things.
Oz was smiling though and then he was grinning and rocking on his feet. I was starting to get slightly worried until he leaned forward, punched me on the arm and then set off laughing to himself. Clearly he was going to go about Elliot’s way of dealing with feelings, except Elliot would have probably shouted at me to shut up whilst he was at it. Oz was just carrying on with the crazy laughter.
It was familiar really, because he used to laugh all the time and just forget everything and that’s what he was doing now, just having a good time.
“Oz!” There was the demanding tone. She always ruined good moments.
“Oz, we have to find a star somewhere and then put it on the tree.”
There was a muffled voice from outside the room and then, “It’s hiding in a box; we have to go look for it. Now!”
“Right!” Oz had stopped laughing now but he still looked happy and maybe a little put out, which was probably down to the rabbit and her demanding.
“Oz!”
“We’re coming,” he shouted to her and then turned to me, “You want to help? You can put the star on even; it might change your mind.”
He was too nice for his own good really. Selfless, that’s what my Oz was. And of course I’d help him; he’d probably need distracting in the long run from the demented one.
“Good!” Oz had that look in his eye, which really I should have been wary about.
So we started to make our way to the door, got sort of half way through it, and that was when he attacked. The next minute I found myself roughly pushed against it. Which actually isn’t as smooth as it sounds, wooden doors hurt when you’re pushed against them and door handles do this thing where they dig into your back.
None of that mattered though because Oz was smirking and he had his hands on my chest, the reason I was pushed against the door, which I only now realised because of the heat radiating through my shirt. The funny thing was I had no idea what they were doing there.
“What... Oz?”
“You never answered when I asked if you remembered the mistletoe.”
“Oh.”
“So I thought that maybe you needed a reminder.”
I couldn’t really answer to that though because Oz’s fingers were twisting around my shirt collar and pulling, and then he had a hand in my hair and his lips were against mine and it kind of made talking altogether difficult. It made it impossible when Oz’s tongue pushed its way into my mouth, but by that point I’d passed caring.
The rabbit would have to wait a little while; Oz and I were celebrating Christmas.
Memories just wouldn’t do it.
End.
Comments and crit are loved.