I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die .I'm too awesome to die.

That's Gilbert Beilschmidt's mantra for each and every day that goes by. That mantra was probably the only thing that was keeping him from doing anything reckless. Why did he even need that mantra? To keep him from killing himself of course.

I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die.

He had friends, if you could call them friends, and a little brother that was, what seemed to him, ashamed of him. Did any of them notice the turmoil that he was going through? Of course not. Gilbert hid that fact behind his mask of arrogance and false smiles/smirks. They didn't notice a thing. Except one person.

I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die.

Lovino Vargas. Honestly, sometimes he wondered how the kid sees through his façade. Then he notices when, when no one is looking at him but at his brother, Feliciano, he sees the always angry mask fall and crumble into one of sadness and longing. And once he notices Gilbert staring at him the mask comes back up. Gilbert has grown to have a soft spot for the angry Italian with the mask.

I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die.

Francis Bonnefey and Antonio Carriedo are his supposed best friends. The Bad Touch trio they were called. Yet they notice nothing. Francis always hitting on anything that moved and had his own agenda to deal with. Antonio, the protective mother goose of Lovino, had his own boyfriend and in any case the Spaniard was clueless as a rock. He felt left out in everything they did now, but never showed it.

I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die .I'm too awesome to die.

It was someone's birthday and everyone he knew was going to go there as a group. It included him, but he wanted to test a theory.

He had his red hood up to cover his white hair and was putting everything he didn't need this weekend into his locker. That's when he heard the familiar loud voices of his friends. He slowed his movements and waited. They passed by without noticing him.

I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die. I'm too awesome to die!

Something inside him snapped and he just didn't seem to care anymore.

"Potato bastard. We're leaving so come on." Gilbert never felt as happy and threw his arms around the slim waist that was in back of him. He let all his troubles out onto the Italian's button down. What surprised him the most was that Lovino didn't even push him off or make a comment about his crying he just put a comforting hand on his hooded head.

"Hey you! Get your hands off Lovi!" Gilbert heard Antonio yell angrily. Lovino's hand grabbed his red hood and pulled it off revealing the white hair underneath.

"You idiot! This is your friend and you can't even recognize him?"He heard Lovino yell back defensively. He clutched around the Italian's waist tighter. He heard Lovino scoff. "Some friends YOU are."

Gilbert didn't dare raise his head from his position of his head being buried in Lovino's shirt. Lovino scowled at the speechless group and forced Gilbert to raise his head to look at him. "Bastard, I'm going to take you home with me." He told him, blushing tomato red. Gilbert scrunched his eyebrows in confusion.

Lovino blushed brighter. "Not for that idiot!"He looked away. "You need someone or something to be there…."

He scowled at the group that was still in the hallway. "Get going bastards or the birthday guy ain't gonna have a party." Some of the group left uncertainly, except for Francis and Antonio.

They looked at the pair. Lovino, hands protectively on Gilbert's head. Gilbert on the floor on his knees, arms encircled around Lovino's waist. They looked a tad guilty and a whole lot of confused. Lovino quietly told Gilbert to get his shit together so they could leave. Gilbert reluctantly let go and grabbed his mostly empty backpack and shut his locker, the sound of it closing echoing in the mostly empty hallway.

He stood by Lovino awkwardly until the Italian grabbed his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Gilbert rubbed at his eyes tiredly and slightly smiled. Lovino glared at the duo still in front of them. "Go to the party bastards." He told them, malice clear in his voice. Then he tugged at Gilbert and led him away from his "friends". Gilbert followed without complaint.

I have a reason now. I have a reason now. I have a reason now. I have an awesome reason now.

And really he did. After that Lovino had taken Gilbert to his house and forced him to talk out his problems. Gilbert forced Lovino to talk as well. The two fell asleep on the couch together, Gilbert curled around Lovino protectively and Lovino hugging him around the waist, legs tangled together.

They had never had better dreams.

What was that crap? I don't even know...It wasa plot bunny that formed in my head when I was feeling all angsty and stuff. I only wished I had a Lovino to cheer me up and let me sleep with him... =w=' But yes...suicide is not a joke. Please don't do it, talk to a close friend, relative or adult. My Lovino is my middle school drama teacher. Hetalia doesn't belong to me.