Locked Away (GerIta)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

~

Once Ludwig got back to the camp, he immediately went back to his tent. It was starting to get hot, the spring weather fading into summer heat. He stripped to his boxers and then pulled on the grey cotton pajama pants the camp provided for soldiers.

He lay on his cot and closed his eyes, the only images that flickered in his mind were of that boy, Feliciano. Even though they'd only been together for brief moments, those amber eyes would not leave his thoughts and visions. Neither would that lovely smile of his.

He looked so innocent and pure; naïve. It was like he was a fragile rose - beautiful and blooming but extremely fragile and would break at the lightest of touches. And those thorns. Maybe it wasn't so obvious that the cheerful boy had them, but they were there; razor sharp, ready to defend and harm when a predator was near.

Ludwig turned onto his side and took a shaky breath as images of Feliciano lying there with him flew through his brain. He could see his smile gracing those soft, pink lips and his tan hands reaching out to him, running them over his arms.

He's so beautiful.

The German's eyes shot open, he sat up and held his head in his hands. He groaned and rocked back and forth as his heart beat wildly in his chest.

"He's a goddamn stranger. Why are you even thinking about him? Remember, you could just shoot him between the eyes like everyone else." He said out loud, his consciousness taking over his voice.

Oh, how very wrong he was.

~

Ludwig took out the flask he'd hidden between the frame of his cot and the stiff mattress. He twisted open the lid and took a long drag from it, the strong whiskey burning his throat. He coughed, grimacing as he held the silver flask away from his mouth.

"Fuck." He cursed, coughing again.

He shakily put the lid back on and put it back in it's hiding place. He collapsed onto his cot and pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes, trying to get the visions of the Italian out of his head.

I don't even know him. I'm thinking of him as my lover and I talked to him for ten damn minutes. This is bad. I'm getting attached to someone who hasn't even told me their age yet. This is ridiculous.

He clenched his fists and grit his teeth. This Italian would not get to him. He wouldn't work his way into his stone-cold heart and open him up. Ludwig would continue to be this way.

I will do my job. Whoever I tell to go right will die and whoever I tell to go left will be forced into slavery. I will have no mercy. I don't give a fuck what you want. Its my decision and what I say goes.