Panzerfaust

Chapter 13 - Kindred spirits

October 4th, 1944, Budapest, Kingdom of Hungary

WARNING: this chapter mentions themes that can be sensitive and/or triggering. 

Ilona eventually ushers her reluctant brother-in-law out of the front door - proclaiming that they give privacy to the fiancés; leaving Otto alone with an unimpressed Fraulein Edelsheim. She sits there unmoving; like a statue made of ice, ready to melt away again with weeping tears of sorrow. Pulled back blonde tresses highlight delicate cheekbones under desolate green eyes, the black of the robe making her look thin and fragile. 

'Sophia, I am so sorry I couldn't come...' Otto takes the cousin's place by the table as he reaches for the soft hand still on the tablecloth; she lets him take it just as she let Horthy do it before.

'I know. Adrian told me you were with Veesenmayer. Best is that your Reichsprotektor does not know about yesterday's happenings, no?' 

'No. He does not know.' He leans down to plant a kiss on her cold forehead. How he longed to hold her, yet the peck feels so bitter in his mouth.

Almost as if a switch goes off, Sophia moves quickly to stuff the plate before him with eggs and bacon, and pours him a crystal glass of water; the picture of the perfect Hostess.

'Eat. Drink. It'll help with the hangover.'

Otto digs into the mouthwatering food before answering, trying to remember when was the last time he ate; he is famished.  'I am not hangover.' 

'Yet. You will be soon.' She is right, of course. Otto can already feel the distant thump of last night's happening on his temple, like a panzer wheeling on cracking ice. He blacks out for a second, maybe a minute when a grip on his upper arms brings him back to reality.

'You should rest, Otto. Klaus will take you back to the Adria.' Concerned green eyes meet his tired blue ones as she leans into his face to get his attention. 

'I came alone.' The Sturmbannführer didn't even thought about waking the Bursche, the boy must be just as - if not more wasted than his Alderman.

'How can you be this reckless? You shouldn't drive inebriated.' She stands up, linking her arm through his. 'Come.'

Sophia leads him through the estate by his hands, and he follows her dutifully. Rich and colourful interiors fly by his unfocused eyes and Otto is in a room - hers, pushed down to sit on the bed when he comes back to his dulled senses.

'I am tired, Schatzie.' Is this his voice? It's so alien. And old. 

'I know. You can sleep soon.' She slips into her knees to remove his boots. 'What kind of uniform is this?'

'Platanenmuster.'

'Pardon... a what?' Shrugging of his parka, Otto drops it on the floor next to the bed. This is the most help he can muster up in his own undressing.

'You didn't seriously thought I fight and do drills in those suits.'

'I... must admit I never thought about it. I thought you only go to special missions, like a spy.'

Ja, that would be too easy, wouldnt it?

'Why do you tie your boots this difficult? It's inside out!' The golden head bouncing by his feets struggles with the laces of his shoes.