The Colour of War

Chapter 17

Stefan had risen early, his heart filled with dread, haunted by the surety that he might not return home. He stood at the mirror, adjusting the collar of his crisp uniform. The fabric felt stifling, a symbol of authority that now only served to remind him of the impending war. He loathed the sending-off party that awaited him; it felt more like a celebration of death than a farewell.

Evelyn busied herself in the small kitchen of their home, a place that had become a sanctuary for her. His mind was busy with thoughts about how to keep her safe from the pain he knew they would endure. She had already suffered too much, cast out from her home and faced with the cruelty of a world that refused to accept their love.

"I'm just going out for a few hours," he had said, forcing the deception from his tongue.

"Okay," she chirped, continuing her task, humming a melodic German tune that felt both comforting and devastating.

As he stepped out, he suddenly felt guilty as sweet memory of her smile invaded his thoughts. He paused, gripping the doorframe, the urge to turn back against him.

"Wait, where's my kiss?" Her voice was playful and almost pierced through his armour.

His heart lurched. He turned to her, planting a quick peck on her cheek before leaving. He couldn't bear to linger; the warmth of her presence made the burden he carried heavier.

Outside, he was embraced by camaraderie as he met Henri and his friend and superior Klaus Wolff. Laughter rose around them while others raised glasses in eager celebration. He kept his demeanour indifferent, even as the younger soldiers looked up to him with admiration and naive anticipation. He could see Henri's ego swell with each compliment.

"There better be some single women at this thing," Klaus said, with disdain. "I'm sick of being around men, and it's only going to get worse." He shot a pointed glance at Stefan. "You know I don't mean you, Schäfer."

Henri frowned with annoyance. "What about me?" Klaus shrugged, his vague indifference grating on Henri's nerves. People seemed drawn to Stefan effortlessly, even though Stefan seemed indifferent to their attention. Henri, on the other hand, had to work for friendship, and he couldn't understand why. He considered himself a likeable man, but it seemed his charm was lost on others.

Stefan nodded, but what did it matter? This was only a party before heading off to a war that promised to take everything from him.

Meanwhile, in their home, Evelyn had just settled into a chair feeling fatigued. A knock on the door startled her out of the quiet moment. She opened it to reveal Monika, a familiar yet unwelcome face.

"Mon, what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to mask her surprise.

"I've missed you, Eve," Monika replied. "Why aren't you ready? You know it starts soon."

Evelyn hesitated. "What does?"

Monika's eyes widened in realisation. "Stefan didn't tell you. There's a party tonight for the soldiers, their wives and girlfriends."

Hurt washed over Evelyn. "Oh," was all she could manage. "Enjoy your night, then," she said, masking her emotions with fragile calm.

"No, you're coming with me," Monika insisted. "I can't be left there alone with Henri making connections. Come on, you can't leave me to face that alone!"

For a moment, every instinct in Evelyn clashed violently with her desire to confront Stefan. "Fine," she relented, but inside, her heart was already plotting.

As Monika rummaged through her modest belongings, she exclaimed, "These are... nice!" She glanced at Evelyn with approval. "But we need something special. I have just the dress in mind!" And with those words, she disappeared, excitement in her wake.

The minutes dragged by like hours as Evelyn paced their home, thoughts swirling. Could she truly severe her heart before he faced the uncertainty of war? Pride and love warred within her, until she came to a painfully truthful conclusion. No man should hide his love, especially not for her.

When Monika returned with a beautiful gold dress, Evelyn hesitated for a moment as she examined it, but the nod of approval from Monika urged her on. Spirited out of the house, Evelyn felt a knot in her stomach, yet courage entwined with it.

As they approached the party, the atmosphere was alluring yet suffocating happiness felt like a sinister joke amongst the looming reality of the war they were soon to face. The hall sparkled with laughter, yet all Evelyn saw was the absurdity of it all.

Henri's eyes locked with Monika's the moment they entered, and the shift in his expression when he saw Evelyn was painfully obvious. He masked his contempt under a veneer of politeness. "You... both look lovely," he spat out through gritted teeth, and then swiftly dragged Monika away into the crowd.

Stefan leaned casually against the bar, his laughter ringing out with Klaus until he noticed his gaze go past him. "I wonder who she is here with," Klaus murmured, not so quietly enough. "Shall I ask her to dance?"

Stefan turned and spotted her—Evelyn, resplendent in gold, her beauty hitting him with a fierce intensity. Yet the hurt in her gaze brought him crashing down, leaving him dizzy. "No!" Stefan's bark startled even himself. His hand flew out, instinctively seeking to shield her from Klaus's unwanted attention.

"And why not?" Klaus goaded.

"Because she's with me."

Klaus smirked knowingly; the challenge apparent in his eyes. "Don't let her stand by herself. Despite what you think there are some here who'd take a chance to dance with a beauty like that, for sure."

Stefan took a breath and moved towards her, his heart pounding as he sidled up beside her. "You look like a goddess," he breathed, awe momentarily eclipsing his worries.

Evelyn returned his compliment as she forced a smile, but it faltered almost immediately, frustration rushing forth. "I just want to know," she said agitatedly, "why didn't you want me here?"

Stefan's mind tried to pluck the answer that would hurt her the least as he saw the pain in her expression. He had known this moment would come, but he had hoped—foolishly—that it wouldn't be so soon. The sounds of music floated around them and all he wanted was to drown it out with excuses and reassurances.

"Evelyn," he began, "it's not that I don't want you here. It's just... they wouldn't understand. It's not safe for you."

"Safe?" She repeated, her voice determined. "Do you think this is about safety? I see the faces of your comrades who would rather toast to their bitter fate than acknowledge the truth. Do you really think it's about safety when you keep me in the dark? You must understand how that makes me feel."

He looked away, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers as if seeking refuge from her piercing gaze. The pain in her voice was almost physical. He hadn't intended to hurt her. "If they knew about us, they would call you names, Evelyn. They would say things that... that you shouldn't have to endure."

"And what about what I endure now?" she pressed on, her eyes glistening. "Do you think it's easy to pretend I don't exist in your world? That I am merely a shadow in the corners of your life?"

Stefan shifted his weight, the self-loathing flooding in. He had grown fond of her resilience and fire; it was a part of what had drawn him to her in the first place. Yet now it was a source of immense discomfort. "Evelyn, I—"