Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart

Chapter 8

Feliciano sat leaning against the oak tree under a storm darkened sky. A swift, freezing wind shook the leaves and branches overhead and huge claps of thunder rolled threateningly between the mountains. Feliciano pulled his jacket closer and glanced anxiously across the field for what felt the hundredth time. He had barely slept the night before, too many thoughts and memories and fears assaulting his mind. He refused to admit the truth to himself – that he did not expect Ludwig to be here today. That he had no way to reach him. The thought terrified him, but he quickly decided: if Ludwig did not turn up, Feliciano would find the airbase and go to him. It could not be far - Ludwig walked there and back every day. There were Germans coming in and out of the village constantly. He could find it if he had to. Because he had to see Ludwig again - even if it was the last time. Feliciano made the decision, and promptly fell asleep.

Feliciano was woken by a cold hand on his cheek. He opened his eyes, blinking, to see Ludwig before him: those bright blue eyes and golden hair and strong, handsome, kind face framed by the black clouds behind him. Feliciano's chest filled with a bright, intense, breathtaking joy. He smiled slowly, sleepily, happily. "I'm dreaming."

Ludwig's lips turned upwards in a tiny smile. "Is it a good dream?"

Feliciano nodded, lost dreamily in Ludwig's enthralling eyes, a warm shudder spreading down his spine. "Yes. You're in it." Lightning flashed overhead; memory hit. Feliciano blinked away the haze, the joy vanished, and he fell forward against Ludwig, fell into his strong and secure and heartbreaking embrace. "Tell me I'm not dreaming, Ludwig," he whispered roughly. He wondered how long he had slept. The sky was so dark for morning. "Tell me you're here."

"I'm here, Feliciano. I'm here with you." Ludwig kissed him gently and Feliciano melted into it, Ludwig's lips and breath so warm in contrast with the freezing wind. Feliciano shivered as he felt Ludwig's fingers run softly through his hair. "I did not startle you?" Ludwig whispered against his lips. "You told me once to wake you slowly if I found you sleeping here. Do you remember?"

His throat choked with emotion, Feliciano could only nod. He ran his hands over Ludwig's arms, through his fingers, over his shoulders; smelt his jacket, felt him, held him, breathed him in. "I'm so glad you came." He laughed shakily. "I didn't think I would see you again. Yesterday, you scared me so much... I didn't think you would come back!"

"Nothing can keep me away, remember?" Ludwig smiled and kissed Feliciano's hair. Feliciano sighed, almost happily. "I am sorry I scared you. It was not what I thought. The Americans were not attacking."

Feliciano flinched. The mention of the Americans was like a splash of icy water. "So, they haven't landed?" He tried to make it sound like he didn't already know.

"No. That was just a scouting mission."

Feliciano's chest soared with hope. Ludwig knew it was a scouting mission. Maybe he already knew about the landing. "So, they have not landed yet, but..." Feliciano trailed off, knew he was speaking dangerously. But he had to know how much Ludwig knew.

"It was a diversionary tactic," said Ludwig. Feliciano started to breathe in cautious relief. He knew it was a diversion... the Germans had seen through it... they must know about the landing... "The Americans are too busy in France to launch an attack here just yet. They are trying to confuse us." Ludwig squeezed Feliciano's hand reassuringly, but Feliciano's heart turned to ice and a wrenching agony pulled at his chest. Ludwig didn't know after all. The Germans would be unprepared. It would all happen just as Grandpa Roma had said it would, just as it had all been planned, just as Feliciano had helped plan it himself. The Americans would land. They would attack. They would strike at the German airbase and destroy the place, destroy Ludwig, destroy Feliciano. And Feliciano could do nothing to stop it, could not even warn Ludwig - not without committing treason.