Chapter 4

Early November 1946, Budapest, Hungary.

"Are you sure you aren't going to eat anything?" Elizabeta spoke up as she noticed that Roderich had been sipping on his single cup of tea for the duration of their lunch together. "You can have a piece of my Palacsinta." She offered, picking up her cutlery to cut a piece for Roderich.

"I'm fine, Elizabeta." His eyes stayed preoccupied on the documents he was reading over. Elizabeta's eyes drifted over Roderich's thin and pale face. His eyes intently focused on reading.

"You remind me of Ludwig." She blurted out. She regretted saying that as soon as Roderich diverted his violet eyes from his important documents and made eye contact with her. He was visibly upset. "You prefer your work over necessary needs…" Elizabeta added, seemingly Roderich was waiting for her to continue.

"Germans and Austrians tend to be hardworking." He picked up the porcelain cup and took a small sip. Elizabeta sighed.

"Do you think he's still alive?" She meekly asked. Why was she bringing up Ludwig suddenly? She knew Roderich would not like it. Roderich placed his cup down on the table with a loud slam. His thin brows were furrowed whilst the documents he was holding were crinkling under his grip. He seemed to be holding back his anger.

"I don't know, Elizabeta." He drawled out in a frustrated sigh. "Do you think he is?" The Austrian questioned. Elizabeta leaned back into her chair, staring at her half-eaten Palacsinta. Did she think Ludwig was still alive? Her gut twisted anxiously, only one answer coming to her mind.

He most likely was not.

Even though her gut was telling her that Ludwig was not alive, a small part of her heart hoped. He was a smart kid with a bright future. She wanted to know why. Why did he join the SS? Her green eyes flickered over to Roderich's face once again. Why did Roderich join the SS? Her eyes moved to the cracked pavement. Why did he join the SS? She let out a melancholic sigh and turned her head away from the table. Looking at the food she was eating made her feel sick.

"Don't depress yourself thinking about Ludwig," Roderich spoke up. "I've got some good news." He placed a letter in front of the Hungarian woman. She gingerly picked up the paper and glanced suspiciously at Roderich. "Read it." A small smirk was present on his face. Elizabeta began to read the note as instructed. Her mouth slowly curved up into a bright smile the further she perused. By the end of the letter, she was practically in tears.

"Feliciano and Lovino are still alive!?" She shouted in joy. She slowly stood up and read over the letter again to make sure her eyes were not deceiving her. "Oh my god!" Elizabeta looked over at Roderich, whose small smirk had evolved into a large smile.

"Isn't that amazing?" He chuckled, standing up as well. "They made it safely back to Italy." Elizabeta jumped onto Roderich, tightly hugging him. He returned the hug.

"Oh my god!" She continued to repeat over and over, happy tears streaming down her face. She let go of the frail Austrian and wiped away the tears, looking back down at the letter before bringing it close to her chest. This gave her hope. Hope that there was good in the world. Hope that miracles could happen. Hope that Ludwig… could still be alive. She gave the letter back to Roderich and sat back down in her chair. She started eating the rest of her Palacsinta, feeling so much emotion she had regained her appetite. "We should go visit them sometime!" Elizabeta gasped, the idea suddenly popping up in her head.

"That would be lovely." Roderich fixed his glasses and nodded, approving of the said idea. "It may be a few months or so before that though. I have to get the travel documents and our ID documents organised. And we'll have to see if they would be okay with us visiting them." He added, keeping the idea realistic.

"Mmpf! Mayhf we 'an mtop oper in Mustria!" Elizabeta tried to speak whilst her mouth was full of food.

"Eat what is in your mouth before you speak, Eliza." Roderich scolded in a soft way. She scrunched her face up, trying to finish the food as fast as possible.

"I said, maybe we should stopover in Austria! If we actually go to Italy." She suggested. "It'll give you time to collect some stuff that you wanted to get." Elizabeta continued. Roderich thought to himself for a moment.

"I'll add that to the drawing board." He grabbed a spare piece of paper and began jotting down some notes and reminders. Roderich dug in the pocket of his vest, fishing out his old pocket watch. "It's almost two o'clock… Shouldn't you be rendezvousing with Major Braginsky soon?" He placed his watch back in his pocket. Elizabeta scowled at the mention of Ivan. "I'm assuming you two still have a sour relationship?" Roderich pried, knowing that Elizabeta deeply loathed the major.

Elizabeta huffed, slouching back into her chair once again. "Yes…" She ran her fingers through her hair. "We don't bicker as much but…" She sighed as she trailed off. Just thinking of him exhausted her. The Hungarian looked at her wristwatch before slowly rising from her seat. "I should get going. We have to patrol the city making sure our troops aren't slacking off, then work on some reports and paperwork." Elizabeta placed her cutlery neatly on her empty plate and pulled on her coat. She placed her green beret neatly on her head and finally picked up her old briefcase that held a hefty amount of papers. "I'll see you sometime else this week?" She raised her eyebrow, in which Roderich replied with a nod of his head. She waved goodbye before exiting the picturesque café they were settled in.

She glanced down at her watch once again. She had plenty of time to get to the place where she would be meeting Ivan, so she slowed her fast pace to a stroll. She took in a deep breath. Taking in the smell of gunpowder, dust, and death that seemed to linger in the city.

Elizabeta's eyes examined the houses she walked past, fishing through her memories seeing if she had any recollection of the family that lived there. It was one of her favourite pastimes.

Well, it was her only pastime, and she did not really enjoy it because it always made her apologetic by the end of it. Apologetic that these people were destroyed by war. Their memoirs, legacy, and dignity gone. Her stroll transitioned into a stop as her green eyes laid on a half-destroyed house. One side was perfectly unaffected, but its opposite was completely obliterated. The house was quaint and welcoming.

Much like the cute old couple that used to live in it.

She had fond memories of that couple, they were lovely people. They loved to dance. Especially to swing and jazz. She missed listening to music. Elizabeta remembered when she was a child and her parents visited the couple for lunch, the sound of upbeat jazz filled the house. Her feet brushing against the fluffy red carpet in the living room as the man danced along with her. They gave her the spark of hope that there was still good in the world. Her mind wondered if they were able to stave away from the war. She prayed that they managed to survive but praying did not do much nowadays.

Elizabeta blinked away her tears. This is why she hated remembering these things. She continued on her path to where she was meeting Ivan, keeping her vision straight in front of her, trying not to get side-tracked again. She glanced at her watch once more.

Ah, she was going to be late. Was she really daydreaming for five minutes? Elizabeta picked up her slow walk into a jog. She had arrived at the meetup point. But Ivan was not present.

"Seriously?" The Hungarian huffed. She jogged because she did not want to get a lecture about being tardy, but her superior wasn't there yet? She snorted before crossing her arms as a cool breeze came along. Elizabeta made a mental note to blame Ivan if she ever got sick due to her standing idly outside in the cold.

"Apologies for being late." Elizabeta whipped her head over to the direction of where the voice came from. It was from Ivan. His chest heaving heavily as if he just ran a marathon. "Were you waiting for long?" He straightened out his uniform and dusted off any dirt that managed to get on him.

"Lucky for you, no." She replied, unconsciously following Ivan's action of fixing her clothing and dusting herself off.

"Very well then, let's get a move on…"

After nearly an hour's worth of walking around the city and checking up on their squads, Ivan and Elizabeta were finished with their patrol. They had made their way back to Ivan's residence.

Ivan fished the key from his pocket and slipped into the lock before swinging open the door to his home.

"Come on in." He stood by the door and ushered the Hungarian corporal in. She hesitated before making her way into the foyer of the house. The inside of the house was certainly warm and inviting, unlike the owner. The home was small looking on the outside and was equally smaller on the inside. In front of her was a hallway leading to what seemed like the kitchen and a staircase leading to the upstairs part of the house. It was a pretty empty house, which had shown that Ivan had not been living there long. She turned around as she heard the door close and shuffling. Her superior was taking off his dark coat.

"You can hang your coat here if you'd like." Ivan offered as he hung his own on the old wooden rack. Elizabeta set down her briefcase and took off her coat. Ivan took her jacket and placed it on the rack before picking up the briefcase she had set down and making his way upstairs. Elizabeta followed the Soviet. Walking down the small hallway and into a room. The upstairs was close to what she imagined, nothing special. The room they walked into was painted in a grey manner with some of the paint beginning to peel off, the floor was a deep mahogany colour. A neatly made bed sat in one corner and the other was a medium-sized wooden desk. The desk was almost buried in what seemed like important papers. Ivan scurried over to the desk and began hurriedly cleaning up the mess, stuffing the paper in an already overflowing box. "Sorry, excuse the mess. I hadn't had the time to do some tidying." He muttered, pulling an extra chair over to the desk and placed the briefcase on the wooden surface. Elizabeta looked at Ivan, slightly confused, before walking over to the chair and sitting down.

"We have a few reports to write-up and go through, so this might take a while." She spoke up, opening the case up and pulling out a large handful of paper. Ivan sat down next to Elizabeta as she sorted the paper, giving Ivan half from the pile. Ivan pulled out a pen already starting to read through the report, Elizabeta followed suit.

The pair sat in silence, only the sound of pens scribbling on paper filled the quietness. Elizabeta hated silence. It gave her unneeded anxiety, maybe she was too used to the loudness of war? Or maybe she was too accustomed to the silence of war? Whatever it was, her mind always raced to the conclusion of war. Her eyes peeped over to Ivan's face. She wondered if he felt the same- If the silence irked him the same way it did to her. Her eyes drifted over Ivan's sharp face, carefully studying his every feature. His cheekbones were very pointed and his lips a lively rose-pink, distinguishably thicker than the usual Slav's. Far away his mauve coloured eyes were intimidating but close up… They were actually very fascinating, shining a brighter and more vibrant colour when in the sunlight. She noticed that Ivan's thick brows were furrowed, and his eyes were narrowed when reading. Maybe he needed glasses when reading? Elizabeta jumped when he cleared his throat, shifting to grab something. He placed a radio on the desk.

"Do you mind if I put some music on?" He asked, already fiddling with the knobs of the radio. "The silence is unnerving…" He added in a small grumble.

"Go ahead…" She nodded. Her thoughts were right, he did not like the quietness wafting in the air. Soon enough the sound of upbeat jazz filled the room. A smile crept onto her face. She instantly felt relaxed and content. Elizabeta sighed and leaned back in her chair, she really missed music.

"You seem to like music?" Ivan's statement sounding more like a question due to his uncertainty.

"I haven't listened to it in a long time…" She responded. "It's refreshing to hear it again." Her eyes fluttered to a close, taking in the sweet tunes. She felt goosebumps rundown her spine. Her body and mind feeling relaxed just by getting lost in the music, she sighed in content. Ivan looked over at her, softly sighing as well. This was probably the first time he had seen her at ease.

"I would usually listen to classical music but that puts me to sleep when I do my work. Jazz is a good alternative." The Russian said, returning his gaze to his paperwork. Elizabeta opened her eyes. Ivan liked classical music too?

"I love classical music. It always calms me down." Elizabeta meekly spoke up. She felt almost ashamed. She could not believe that she had a shared interest with Ivan. Elizabeta caught the man's look before he looked away with a smirk on his face. Probably scoffing at the thought of them enjoying the same thing.

"Small world…" He muttered, mauve eyes narrowing as he read the small text. Elizabeta sat up straight and continued on with her own work.

She managed to power through a couple of papers before she felt her eyelids become heavy. The radio was now playing a soothing jazz song which was basically calling for Elizabeta to sleep. She rested her cheek against the palm of her hand, trying to continue on with her work. She shifted and changed her position so now that her head was resting against the wooden desk. Her vision became hazy and her eyelids finally closed, lulling her off into the dream world.

Ivan had noticed after a few minutes that Elizabeta had stopped writing and that she was resting against the table. He sighed before his eyes raked over her face. The idea of waking her up never crossed his mind. She looked serene and him waking her up would definitely disrupt the peace. He let her be, deciding that she would probably wake up soon.

But he was wrong about that. Ivan had finished his pile of work and Elizabeta still slept soundly. He slouched back into his chair, still staring at Elizabeta. She looked so relaxed yet so uncomfortable. Her position would certainly cause her to wake up to soreness. Ivan walked over to his bed and pulled back the blanket and fluffed up the pillow before walking back over to the desk. He gingerly picked up the sleeping woman and placed her on the bed. He pulled the covers over her and gently tucked her in. Ivan looked at her once again before brushing the hair out of her face. It looked like it was annoying her.

"Sladkiye Mechty…" He mumbled, moving back to the desk. He lit up a lantern and grabbed Elizabeta's pile of paper. If they did not get it done tonight, they would have to probably finish it tomorrow and he did not really want to do work on his day off.

Elizabeta shifted, snuggling into the warm cover. She inhaled deeply a familiar but strange scent filled her nostrils, causing her eyes to snap open. She quickly sat up realising this was not her bed. Anxiety building up in her stomach. Her eyes darted around the room before registering that this was Ivan's room.

Ivan.

Her eyes landed on her superior who was sleeping deeply, his head resting on the desk. She remembered falling asleep over there but had no recollection of getting into a bed. Specifically, Ivan's. The anxiety that was in her stomach slowly went away as she realised she was no longer in any danger. Slowly she got out of bed, still being half asleep and not wanting to wake up Ivan. Elizabeta noticed a neatly stacked pile of paper next to the sleeping male. She picked it up and quickly skimmed through the pages.

Their paperwork was all completed. She looked down at Ivan. Now she felt guilt settling in. Why didn't he wake her up? Why did he do all the work? She frowned, annoyed. Placing the papers back down she let out a huff and folded her arms. Waiting for the annoyance to dissipate. She walked back over to the bed and grabbed the blanket before placing it over Ivan's broad body.

Elizabeta had silently made her way out of the Russian's house, slowly making her way back home. She ran a hand through her hair, her mind wandering back to the thought of Ivan placing her into bed and him completing her share of the work. His thoughtfulness pissing her off. Now she had to think of ways to pay him back or else guilt would continue to haunt her.

She twisted open the doorknob and walked into her home. She took in a deep breath. Home sweet home. Elizabeta's ears twitched at the sudden sound of a loud bang. It came from the kitchen. Her body tensed up. Her mind instantly went to looters. They were scum. Breaking into people's homes, destroyed or not, just to get their items and hope to sell those said items off to get rich. She slowly made her way to her kitchen, pulling out her gun. Her heartbeat began to pick up. She hoped the intruder did not have a weapon on them, it would hopefully make this confrontation a lot easier for her. As she inched her way into the kitchen, she saw the body of a man dressed in a dark pale green uniform. The uniform was in terrible condition, dirt and blood mainly covering it. The man slowly turned around.

"Don't… shoot… Elizabeta…" The man croaked out, weakly putting one hand up. Elizabeta nearly dropped to her knees when she saw the man.

"L… Ludwig?"

A/N: This was a longer chapter to make up for the fact I'm slow at updating frequently. Reviews and feedback would be greatly appreciated!