Chapter 7

A few days later

Late November 1946, Budapest, Hungary.

Elizabeta let out an angry huff as she washed the dirty dishes that were littered around her sink. She was irritated, this irritation made her slam the dishes onto each other. She just couldn't believe that Ivan had made her stay in a hospital overnight. Why? Why was he trying so hard to act like he cared? Just why? It frustrated Elizabeta because all she could do was ask why and have no answer. She could ask Ivan herself, but she didn't want to be near him.

"What's the matter, Eliza?" Came Ludwig's deep voice. She placed the dish she was holding down into the sink. She turned around to face Ludwig. He was sitting at the small round dining table, having some leftover soup whilst reading the newspaper. Roderich had gotten Ludwig a pair of crutches from the hospital. Usually civilians weren't allowed to ask for crutches especially during these times but Roderich managed to get a pair due to being a certified doctor. Ludwig couldn't really concentrate on reading the paper when Elizabeta was banging around dishes. The Hungarian twisted the hand towel around, trying to rid of her anxieties and anger through the cloth as well as to dry her hands. She bit her lower lip, wondering if she should even vent her anger to him.

"I…" She began before shaking her head. "It's okay, I'm alright."

"Are you sure? Or are you going to keep banging pots and pans around angrily?" He looked at Elizabeta quizzically, she looked away. Elizabeta sighed. What did she have to lose? Ludwig was a good listener and gave pretty good advice.

"It's Ivan…" She softly said, almost embarrassed that she was angry over him.

"Major Braginsky?" He tilted his head; he had heard stories about this Major Braginsky. Mainly from Roderich, he had referenced him a few times in some of his anecdotes. He knew him and Elizabeta did not have the best relationship, to say it was tense was an understatement. Or so he heard. Elizabeta nodded, confirming that Ivan was Major Braginsky. Ludwig looked at her, expecting her to go on with her rant.

"Why? I just don't understand him!" She finally said, folding her arms.

"Is that it? You're angry because you don't understand him? Not because he's an arschloch?" Elizabeta stood dumbfounded. Of course, she was angry over other things! Like…

"He put me in hospital for no reason!"

"Eliza, you fainted. From fatigue." Ludwig fired back. "He was concerned about you."

"Ha! Concerned. I'm sure that Soviet doesn't know a thing about human emotions!" Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "He didn't pay me any attention when I was in hospital!" Ludwig hummed, finally understanding what was happening here, he sat back into his chair.

"I see, so instead he stayed with you until you woke up. Making sure you weren't alone in the hospital." He responded. Elizabeta frowned at him.

"He's done other bad things! Like—"

"Oh, enlighten me, Eliza."

"W-well… For starters he took me to the hospital when I didn't ask! When we worked on some reports, I fell asleep and he did my share of the work! Instead of waking me up, he did my work and put me in his bed!"

"So, he's an arschloch for being considerate?" The Hungarian woman stayed quiet, trying to remember was other things he had done that wronged her.

"He's a misogynist." She said.

"Oh," Ludwig sat up straight. "From what you were saying, he doesn't sound like he hates you. He might be bad at expressing himself or is intimidated by you."

"He's a six-foot Russian, why would he be afraid of me, a five-foot-three Hungarian." Elizabeta looked at Ludwig as if he was silly.

"Ask him, not me." He shrugged. "Are… you the only woman that's in the military force here?" Was she? She was the commander of the MP… The previous one had died during the war, sacrificing himself for the country. She was probably one of the most high-ranking people in the military police in Hungary. Many of the other women were either volunteer soldiers or part of the police force. Majority was nurses.

"I… suppose I am." She never really thought about it. But she was sure there were other women that were part of the military force. A sudden realisation had struck her. Most of them died during the war. There weren't that many women who were part of the military even before the war. Not many women were hired into the military.

"He's probably never seen a woman like you. Strong and independent." He said, finishing the rest of his soup. "That's why he's scared. I've heard the Soviet Union has a very patriarchal society." Ludwig slowly got up, picking up his empty dish. He hobbled over near the Hungarian woman. "Or from what it sounds like, very much head over heels for you." He muttered, placing the bowl and cutlery in the sink. Elizabeta snapped her attention to Ludwig.

"What?" She looked at Ludwig with an intense stare, her whole body felt hot. But she couldn't exactly pinpoint what emotion she was feeling. But it was an emotion that made her body feel hot, her stomach bubbling with fear and… excitement? She looked away. "Don't be ridiculous, Ludwig." Why did she sound so defensive? Why would she care if Ivan had feelings for her? She should feel anger, disgust… repulsed at such a thought. Not excitement.

"What does he look like?" Ludwig began scrubbing away at his dish.

"Why do you want to know?" Elizabeta snapped back, she wanted to stop talking about him. It was like she dug herself into deep holes when discussing him or when she talked with him.

"I'm curious." Ludwig stacked the clean bowl with the others and moved onto cleaning the next dish. Elizabeta began to dry the stack of wet dishes and cutlery. "You said he was six-foot, what else?" The Hungarian frowned before sighing. Damn him.

"Well… He's six-foot. He's got beige shaggy hair; I should tell him to cut it before it gets too long… He's got sharp facial features, very Soviet like. Although his nose is quite round which I guess balances the sharpness out." Her hands trailed over her own features, as if her fingers remembered what Ivan's features were like if she touched her own. "His lips are plump, surprisingly. They're a pretty pink colour." Her fingers ghosted over her lips. "His eyes…" She began, trying to think of ways to describe Ivan's eyes. "Are charming… They're like a thin almond shape, but I think that's from him squinting so much he may need to wear glasses. The colour of his eyes, oh… they're violet but shine like amethysts when in the sun. It's amazing." Ludwig smiled at Elizabeta once she finished describing what the Soviet Major looked like.

"How old is he?"

"I think he mentioned he was turning 25 soon."

"Does he have any interests?"

"I… I'm not too sure. I know we have a shared interest in classical and jazz music." She shrugged. "You're asking a lot of question about Ivan, Ludwig."

"Are you sure you two aren't close? You always refer to him as Ivan and not Major Braginsky. He is your superior is he not?" Elizabeta's body froze, She hadn't even notice she had been calling her superior with his first name. They hadn't established calling each other on a first name basis. She dug through her memories; she had no recollection of Ivan calling her by her first name, but she could recount the times she had used his.

"Oh, istenem…" Her mouth was agape, she couldn't believe herself. "No, Ludwig, we're not close at all. I just… occasionally call I- Major Braginsky, Ivan." She tried to recollect herself as best as she could.

"Eliza…" Ludwig cleared his throat. "I am curious… are you sure you don't harbour any feelings for Major Braginsky?" That was the last straw. So many different feelings ran through Elizabeta's blood, her blood boiling once again.

"Don't be ludicrous!" She yelled. "I can't believe you would ask something like that! I do not have feelings for Ivan—Major Braginsky, that stupid Soviet!" She threw the towel on the floor. "Stop trying to insinuate these things! I don't like him like that!" She continued her yelling.

"Okay, okay. I'm so—" Ludwig tried to apologise before Elizabeta stormed out of the kitchen. "Eliza?! Where are you going? I'm sorry!" He called out but it was too late, the Hungarian had picked up her coat and left her house. She was heading straight to the training grounds. The usual place where she would blow off steam. She needed to get this anger out of her system. How could Ludwig think that? She wouldn't dare to have romantic feelings for Ivan—Major Braginsky. And how could he think that Ivan had feelings for her! Absurdity at its finest is what it sounded like. She slowed her trudging. Remembering all the times she had been around Ivan. He was more standoffish when they had first met and had their first patrol together, now he seemed nicer. He did ask a lot of questions regarding herself and always seemed to offer her help. She shook her head to get rid of those thoughts. No! Absolutely not!

She grabbed her handgun out and cocked it. God, she was slowly descending into madness. She felt her brain was beginning to rot away from those stupid thoughts.

"Stop thinking about it, Elizabeta. Stop thinking about it. Stop it. Stop it." She muttered to herself. The brown-haired woman looked up as she heard people talking in the near distance. There was a group of men in the shed which housed the training dummies. They had Soviet uniforms on. "God no…"

"Corporal?" No. "What brings you here?" Asked Ivan. It was just her luck that Ivan was here with his squad. She shook her head, who cares if Ivan was here? Certainly not her.

"What does it look like Iv-Major Braginsky?" Her tone was cold and harsh. Ivan was taken aback from her ire reply. He was used to her cold remarks, but this type of response seemed uncalled for.

"My apologies," He began. "It's just a shock to see you show up by yourself with no squad." Ivan finished. His eyes watch her fiddle with her gun, he was unsure if she was purposely making herself look busy so she could ignore his statement or if she did need to go over her weapon for a quick safety check. He knew which reason it was. "Go ahead." He stepped aside, knowing she would have listened to that. Elizabeta moved to where the designated line was to shoot the dummy. Her brows furrowed as the group of men made a small protest in Russian. Ivan immediately dismissed the hushed cries. Elizabeta couldn't help but smirk at that. She lifted her beloved handgun and exhaled. Her hand squeezing the base of the gun and her opposite finger pressing the trigger. The sound of bullets exiting the gun echoed throughout the shed and then the sound being muffled by the dummies. Gunpowder was now floating freely through the air, invading her nostrils. She took in a large breath, the smell brought back memories. Good memories and bad memories. She exhaled when she had enough of the triggering smell. She stepped back from the line and gestured for someone to take up the position. Ivan did so. He lifted his hand and cocked his pistol. Elizabeta stood at the back of the shed, she wasn't too close nor too far from Ivan. She toyed with her gun once again.

One bullet fired and hit the shed wall with a loud metallic ding.

The second one made her look up. She studied Ivan. She could pick out every mistake he was making when aiming and shooting his gun. She wondered if he was a gun person, because he didn't seem like it. Especially with his slouched posture. She noticed his terrible posture when they had first met. His left shoulder was dipped lowly compared to his right and he slouched slightly. Elizabeta holstered her gun and walked over to Ivan.

"You're missing the targets because of your posture, Ivan." She spoke up, standing next to the tall Russian. He lowered his gun and looked down at her, surprised. "Get into position, like you're about to shoot." She ordered and he complied. Elizabeta stood behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. She felt so small against Ivan's broad back and shoulders. It was like a giant wall was placed in front of her and there was no way she would be able to see what was happening on the other side. She pulled his shoulders back to make sure he wasn't slouching. The hard part was trying to fix his left shoulder. She tried to work her hands to make it sit evenly, she was less gentle with his shoulder with each touch.

Ivan whimpered.

Elizabeta stopped. Her body freezing. She had never heard such a sound come from Ivan. She was sure his squad would've been equally stunned to hear their so-called stoic and scary leader wince.

"Did… Did that hurt?" She managed to ask, her hands resting on his left shoulder. He slowly nodded.

"It's my bad shoulder," He admitted. "I was shot there. That's why my posture is so poor." Elizabeta didn't know how to react. She felt… apologetic towards Ivan and she felt guilty. She didn't know that that was the reason he had bad posture. If she knew the reason, she wouldn't had hurt him. She could feel that the muscles around his shoulder were stiff and tense. "I used to be good at shooting a gun. But as you can see… That's a skill I no longer have." She saw a sad smile creep onto his face. She removed her hands from his shoulder. He suddenly seemed fragile, like he would crumble if she touched him again. Seeing Ivan become vulnerable was more horrifying than him looking intimidating.

"Ivan…" Elizabeta didn't know why she said his name. She didn't know what to say. But she felt the need to say something. Before she could continue, a sudden explosion cried out in the distance, the shed shaking from the shockwaves. Everyone dived down to the floor. Ivan had quickly turned around and pulled Elizabeta close to him. He lingered over her as they crouched on the cold concrete floor. One of Ivan's arms hovered over his head, his broad chest was enough to cover her whole body. She felt safe, like nothing could harm her with Ivan protecting her like so. Ivan shouted an order towards his squad and two men crawled their way out of the shed. Probably scouting out the area to see what they could report back. It wasn't a bomb was it? Was the world about to go into war again? How many lives would have to be sacrificed to have the world be at peace?

Elizabeta looked up at Ivan. She looked at his eyes. His mauve eyes. They were thin and cold. But she could see fear tucked away in them. Fear and uncertainty.

Time seemed to pass quickly as the two soldiers had returned and told Ivan what had happened. He had stood up and helped Elizabeta stand as well. She gripped onto Ivan's hand. She looked at him quizzically, waiting for him to relay the information to her.

"A car exploded in the parking lot of the military HQ." He informed her. A wave of relief washed over her. Thank god. She would have had a breakdown if he told her it was a bomb igniting another war.

"No one was injured, right?" More anxiety formed.

"Not of my knowledge." He answered. Elizabeta sighed, that was good. She gathered her thoughts and regained her composure. After the war had ended, some little thing would trigger her to spiral down a hole with anxiety. She saw how bad the world could be in times of war.

"Are you okay?" He asked. "I didn't hurt you when I pulled you close to me, did I?" Elizabeta shook her head.

"No, I'm all right," She said, there were no pains nor stings on her body, so she was fine. "Thank you… for uh… For covering me." He didn't have to protect her, but it was a nice gesture. She looked at their hands, Ivan's large hand engulfing her smaller one. Her face heated up and her stomach felt bubbly. The heat from her face soon enveloped her whole body. Elizabeta quickly took her hand away from Ivan's. "I'll be taking my leave now… uhm…Thanks again." She hid her red face and quickly walked away from Ivan and back towards her house.

This felt so very wrong… yet so right.

A/N; Sorry for the late delay of this chapter! I got writer's block but I finally got inspired to finish this chapter phew- Next chapter will be the big function, so keep an eye out for that!

Reviews/feedback is always appreciated!