Love Isn't an Easy Thing

EVENT 2

Ever since she had come to the Hellsing manor, Marcela had been having a hard time adapting to the changes. It was bad enough that she was away from her family, with whom she had lived out her entire life, but also her uncle's manor and company were extremely terrifying. Vampires? Up until the last week, Marcela could swear on all her teenage pride that vampires were a thing of someone's crazy fantasy. But now she knew that they were more than real. Uncle Arthur wasn't too great at easing her worries, either. A man of the ladies and business, he had never been a family person and expected Marcela to take care of herself. The girl had even developed insomnia during her first week, so, once again, she sat by the window in one of the manor's guest rooms and watched at the moonlit landscape in front of her. She had picked up a notepad and a pencil and began doodling the view. Never being much of an artist, she used drawing simply to release tension and get rid of boredom. It's not like she would be doing anything besides drawing the entire night. Or so she thought.

Marcela nearly fell off the windowsill when she heard the door open. Thinking her uncle must've gotten awake, she quickly shut the notepad and tried to climb back into her bed. But the process was slower than the person who was coming in.

"Oi, Frenchie, why aren't you asleep?" Marcela was shocked to see the boy she had met in her uncle's study a couple of days prior enter her room in nothing but his nightclothes. His hair was messy and his eyes were sleepy as if he had just woken up.

"I can ask you the same question, Walter, was it? What are you even doing here? Don't you people knock?"

"Generally, no." The boy smirked. Marcela furrowed her brows at his blatant rudeness, "I can't sleep with you making this much noise."

"I was drawing with a bloody pencil. How loud can that possibly be?" The girl argued, confused and angry at the same time.

"I have excessive hearing." Walter smiled and shut the door behind himself, "Well, since it's obvious that neither or us are going to sleep, let's spend some time together. How about you show me what you've been drawing for three nights straight?"

The girl's confusion melted and a knowing ghost of a smile arose on her face, "Walter?

"Hm?"

"Did you come into my room just to look at my drawings?"

"Maybe, but that doesn't matter now, does it?" The boy jumped on the windowsill and took her notepad. Although Marcela had been in the manor for only a week, she had already set up her room, so there were many of her things laying on the windowsill. The boy noticed a familiar small cardboard box laying right by the window.

"Do you smoke?" He asked, picking up the matches and examining the package, which had an image of a plane printed on it.

"No, I don't. I just like to burn them and see how the flame looks like. It's weird, I know, but before the war, I really enjoyed the sight of fire. After my country was attacked that love was gone, but I still brought the box with me." The girl responded with a sad smile. The matches were given to her by a classmate, whose name she didn't even know, as a gift for her birthday. She had always enjoyed the flame until half of Paris was set ablaze by the Germans.

"That's too sentimental. You can't just get attached to people or things because nothing is with you forever, and when it leaves, it's going to hurt like a motherfucker." Walter explained and reached into the pocket of his nightshirt, "Good thing that I can always find a good use for these."

The boy pulled out a cigarette and, using a match from the box, lit it. Marcela looked at him in shock and mild disgust.

"You're too young to be smoking." She shook her head.