A/N: I decided to continue this! Thanks for the follows and review!
"Were you having nightmares?" Max asked, hoping for an honest answer.
"I don't have nightmares. Not anymore, at least." Liesel said, and there was no trace of a lie etched in her features, "I used to have nightmares about my brother when we were on the train and my mother but—but I stopped them. I was surrounded by Mama and Papa and every wonderful person on Himmel Street and thrust into a new world and I didn't have time to be sad during the day. After I realized that my letters to my mother wouldn't ever have replies, I thought long and hard on it. I decided to stop being sad and stop having nightmares. So I did. Then when the bombing happened—" Max still winced at what was still fresh information "—I was sad, terrified, upset, and then Ilsa brought me into her home and surrounded me with books. I decided that I wouldn't use the books to keep me busy and keep everything in little boxes that would fall open when I fell asleep, but that I'd use them to help me let go…help me move past it. And so…I did. The only reason I'm still here—" Liesel gestured around the room halfheartedly, "—is because I was waiting to see if I'd hear news of you."
Max marveled at the sheer brilliance that was Liesel. The way she put it made sense. He didn't think that he would be able to logic his way out of having terrifying nightmares, but it was amazing that with what tragedy that had touched her spirit, Liesel knew nothing but how to move on.
"Frankly, I was waiting to be told you were dead. Then I'd put you in a box for a while and then let you go."
"And now that I'm not?"
"I don't know." Liesel admitted, "I wasn't exactly prepared for the possibility that you were alive—or that you would come back."
Max's hands found Liesel's, "Of course I would! Why wouldn't I?"
"I wouldn't come back here if I had left." Liesel murmured, staring down at their entwined hands.
Her hands were smaller, thinner, and more delicate than his own, looking more like two spindly pieces of a snowflake. His hands were larger and in their natural state would look more meaty, but instead simply looked big boned and skeletal. He pressed his lips against hers with a small smile, "If you thought that there were people worth coming back for, you would, Liesel."
Liesel had no reply for that.
***A Note on the word shaker***
She's rarely wordless.
Max's addition to the household actually caused very little chaos. Ilsa continued reading all day, her husband was trying to work with the soldiers occupying Molching for the sake of the German people or something. He didn't quite know what the man's stake in everything was, but he was kind enough to harbor a Jew postwar, so it seemed that Max was at least useful in that sense. Liesel was still attending school and occasionally dropped by Alex Steiner's shop to help him out. Max himself spent every day looking for some form of work. Occasionally, he got it, but most of the time he spent the day wandering and looking at the damage the war caused Germany's own people. Everyone was poor and hungry, but many were still brainwashed into hating the Americans finally providing some relief. Then every night, after such a disheartening march, Max would return and find Liesel in the library.
After the nightmare conversation, whatever dam that seemed to exist between them seemed to break. They spoke of years before they met and after he was forced to leave. Somehow, one night weeks later, his head ended up in her lap and her fingers were laced through his hair—hair like feathers, he remembered her describing it as….it was finally growing back again—as he spoke so quietly. It was only when she tensed and her fingers became more gentle in their massage that he knew for certain that she could hear every word.
"We were treated like less than animals. They shaved our heads and forced us to work and near the end there was the shooting…so much death. That smell. I will never forget that smell."
***I Will Never Forget The Smell Of Those Places***
Liesel listened quietly, until somehow, the burden was lifted. He had no idea he would tell her of Dachau that night. In fact, he never wanted to tell anyone at all, let alone her. She was such an innocent soul and didn't need that kind of burden. He couldn't fix it nor could she, but she would try anyway. He didn't know whether or not that should break his heart or make him proud. Neither emotion stopped him from reaching up and rubbing her knee as he spoke. Her presence made him feel as if he floated among the clouds themselves
"I'm not staying here forever." Liesel announced about a month after Max dropped back into her life. She was sitting with her legs flung carelessly over his and her back against the arm of the settee they were on. It occurred to Max that this wasn't the most appropriate position to take. He was so acutely aware of the warm pressure her legs provided that he almost missed what she said. He asked anyway.
"What?"
"I'm not staying here forever…not in this house, this town or any of that. I'm sick of it here." She declared resolutely closing her book.
"Where do you want to go?"
"…England. Or America or Australia or something! I've been learning English. I try to practice every chance I get, but I still won't be able to leave for a while because I don't have money and traveling is limited. It's so frustrating."
Max sighed, clasping her knee, "Be patient, Liesel. In the meantime you could get better at English.
***Max Did Not Think That The Suggestion would be dangerous***
He first saw them while walking back from work. The two sat side by side, pouring over a book. Every once in a while Liesel would giggle. The man was a soldier, little more than a boy swimming in his American uniform, but to Liesel, he was a man that could bring new words and with them new meanings. The boy was fair haired more like her than the way she described her fair haired friend Rudy, but with bright blue eyes and a few freckles across his nose. Max didn't like him. He had absolutely no logical reason not to like him, but he didn't.