Caramel skin and eyes the tone of decadent chocolate. A smile not yet broken by the cruel world that so overtook them all, as a light radiating from a well pregnant with grave ink. Auburn hair kissing to that golden forehead and the corners of those healthy cheeks. Perfect red lips.
Ludwig stared into that face as though he was taking in reflection within the exalted fountain of youth after a journey long and winding. His own mouth seemed to part as a naïve child's possessed by infatuation.
He might as well have been.
Memory touched to those events that had occurred only two days previously, as though his responsible gloved hands were uncovering bones from years far exterminated; a foggy recollection shrouded in a strict veil of that sudden convulsion.
His superiors had stood before him, placing him on trial in request for a simple task.
"The Italian is coming in two days. You'll be working together. Show him our beautiful Germany and be sure to get to know him. Explain to him how to your jobs works."
"Of course…May I ask a question?"
"Certainly, Ludwig."
"What is his name?"
"Feliciano."
Feliciano…
And that was his visage, his flesh, his clothing and his mouth, doctored into such a brilliant grin.
Ludwig took in that suitcase, held within the other's bronzed hand as something of dire importance, and it likely was. That Italian's entire life could have been contained within that shallow container. Not much had been kept near to him.
And that German man recalled that the one before him would be housed inside his own living space at least a few days before finding inhabitance of his own.
The apartment had been cleaned, hadn't it? No, no…It was always immaculate. What exactly was he so concerned with?
Ludwig's train of busied thought was broken by the kindly protest of the one before him.
"Hello…" That word came in a near perfect German, those unexpected sounds morphing those attractive mounds into an even wider simper. "I'm Feliciano."
"I'm Ludwig. It's nice to meet you." The blond man's hand was held before that tanned and pleasant idol, and promptly stolen into a friendly shake. "If you get tired of speaking German, I know Italian fairly well…You must have traveled a long time to get here."
"Thank you, but I feel just fine." An even more agreeable fold. "Don't worry about me."
A pragmatic nod, what that German man excelled with.
"Would you like to go? We can head to my home and get your things unpacked. This office isn't the most exciting thing in this city."
"Anything you'd like." And a thought seemed to occur to that gleaming creature. "Oh! But there is one thing. See, I have this cat named Dom…You're not allergic or anything, right?"
"No. He's welcome to stay with you."
"Thank you. At the moment, he's waiting inside my driver's car…Did you walk here?"
"Yes, but it's not a problem if we need to drive."
"No… I don't mind walking. I'd actually like to stretch my legs. I only have Dom and this briefcase anyway…"
Another movement built of unshakable seriousness.
The two came to the bottom of that wondrous edifice, and that welcomed intruder regarded everything within those streets, the sun showing its face shamelessly and that black car awaiting its new arrival, shimmering as a polished beetle upon a fresh leaf.
Feliciano came to the door and removed a box with holes drilled about its poor forehead, troubled mews escaping the barriers as the sound of paws slipped from its levitating floor.
Soft word was offered in a consoling Italian and then sound transferred to the driver, who gave response in return and finally drove away after claiming a bit of currency from the previous rider.
That caramel hued man came back to his counterpart and either began their decent down the street, that helpless animal slipping around within that poorly made container while mouths gathered all the things that were well exploitable.
Ludwig was uncertain of what to tell that newly found roommate; there was so much about him he could make known, but it was as attempting to find diamonds in great masses of plain stones.
Small talk had never been his greatest attribute. That blond was not a personage of useless pleasantries or deep enjoyment. No problems arose while recalling facts, and nothing held him from being intelligent or successful. But Ludwig was of strict attention to detail and unexpected solution. And such men do not often commit to deep friendship, if there was indeed that bond in the first place.
"Ludwig, do you want me to make dinner?"
"No. That's alright… I actually started before I came to get you. I figured you might be hungry."
"Well, let me know if I can help at all."
For a moment, there was need to expel random fragments of knowledge to spark conversation. 'Oh yes. I'm a member of the Secret Police, but I never really leave my office. Say, did you know I was shot three times while in France? They let me come home and moved me closer to headquarters. That's why I don't live inside an actual home. But that's alright. I only had to give up my three dogs and elder brother.'
No. Anything spoken from his dull tongue was already made a marred gem. His companions would observe his words as a crippled and exotic bird. They were all so interested, but there was undeniable pity inside those blue eyes that seemed to engulf the man's simple world.
Thoughts were shattered as a hand brushed against that blaring crimson band, a curious creature pawing at an unidentified substance.
"Sorry." Feliciano twisted instances of flesh into something odd and amused. "I've never really seen one in person before. Your uniform is nice…" Curious olive orbs came to the metals adorning the opposite's venerated chest. "You've worked hard, haven't you?"
"That's what they tell me. I don't know what working hard is. I've just done what I've been told to do."
"Well, you've done something right." That smile. "Do you have any family?"
"One brother named Gilbert. I haven't seen him in months. I had to move here for work, but we still write letters to one another. I gave him my dogs because my apartment is too small to keep them much longer than a few days…I know they would be happier in his home. They can run around and whenever I took them to visit Gilbert, he would feed them bacon. Even though he usually overcooked it."
The Italian laughed. "Well…Maybe you'll be able to move into a house and have them back." A moment was devoured in hungry thought. "I have a brother too. But he's somewhat grumpy. I still love him, though. His name is Romano."
Ludwig offered affirmative movement.
"I wish I could tell him how I feel right now. I'm excited and nervous and-well, lots of things. Is my German alright?"
"It's just fine."
"Oh; good! I was so worried that I spent all of that time studying it and when I got here I would just forget everything for some reason. And for a minute, I did; right when I came into Germany. But then someone spoke to me and I just recalled all of those words. Has that happened to you?"
"Yes. It has."
"…It's hard to go into another country, even though it's an adventure. Have you ever been to Italy?"
"Yes…I was only able to go for a short while, but it was beautiful. I know what you mean. For a minute, I couldn't remember much of anything I had learned, but then I calmed myself and I could speak again."
The darker nodded.
"Have you gone to any other countries?" It was Ludwig's turn to inquire, his blood becoming something electric.
"Yes. Just France and Spain. But I only visited. This is my first time in Germany."
"Well, I hope that you like it here." As Ludwig spoke, his gaze kissed to those towering buildings, those stars painted against broken windows as though those areas were satanic pits. But his mouth did not gape, nor did words expose themselves to bright hours, the sky something azure and heavenly.
It seemed odd that they had chosen an Italian to complete a job a German could do. Just how many residents could speak that needed tongue? There had to be one more than the lovely man currently wading at the Aryan's flank. Perhaps this strange arrival housed a kind of hidden skill; the best in his class, the golden sort of translator one could only locate once in an entire lifetime.
There had to be something far deeper, because Feliciano's hair was not blond, his eyes not the tint of a sapphire, and his skin the most pleasant of bronzed tones; his blood was not German, yet there he was, inside their quarters , walking upon their streets, and soon to inhabit their homes.
But the being holding such light pigments was not angry, as some may be. Only puzzled.
They reached that curious living space after a series of irritating risers and an unlocked door, the owner turning his lamp on inside that dark corner and the guest speculating that area with glowing eyes.
"It's so tidy. Do you have a wife?"
"Oh, no…I'm just organized, I suppose. If you need anything, let me know. The bathroom is down the hall and you're welcome to lie down, if you feel tired. I'm going to make dinner."
"Can I help with anything?"
"I don't have much for you to do, but if you like, you can have a look around, take Dom from his box; do whatever you want."
"Thank you, Ludwig. I really appreciate this."
"It's nothing. I'm glad I actually have someone to speak to after all this time. It can be lonely."
"Well, don't worry about that. I'll keep you company. And when you're tired of me, you can just kick me out." That same twist of such attractive formations, and the German felt his face flush.
Had it truly been such a long time away from others that a simple smile could cause such stoic cheeks to blossom?
"I'll politely kick you out. I'll even wear my cleanest boots."
Feliciano's warmed face clouded in laughter.
And Ludwig contained shock at the mere idea of a joke drifting from his serious lips. It was an anomaly, even more so that his sudden companion found humor within those words.
"Thank you. Tell me if you need any help. I'm going to take Dom out."
And promises were kept, the blond man creating their nourishment and the other glancing around that area as though each trinket housed inside that sad palace was a gem of untold value, that black and grey animal tracing behind him as a duckling in great fear of losing its darling mother.
And inside some strange conundrum, their lives progressed as though a soul had not been carried so far from home and had not fallen into the arms of another's life. One could very well assume that they had huddled beneath the same roof for years, all despite the scattered thoughts coursing inside their active essence.
Yet, despite that usually rush of concerned calculation, Ludwig was somewhat euphoric, not having a true friend for an innumerable set of winters.
Somehow, spring had finally shattered the snow devouring it.