[The name of my OC is Lydia Romanoff and is made up by me.]

I was in bed. Not my very own at home, or one of the spare emergency ones at Hellsing Organization. Not either the uncomfortable mattress in one of the previous cells I had to live in, but a heavenly soft bed in a military room that looked unfamiliar at first. But it didn't take a genius to figure out where I was, especially after remembering yesterdays events.

"Good morning, Fräulein."

"Good morning..." I mumbled back, recognizing the familiar voice. He called me Fräulein, which is German for miss or young lady and I shyly decided to hide my morning face underneath the covers, which smell I yet not had get used to. I was so happy that I faced the wall and didn't have to look Schrödinger in the eyes so early in the morning.

"It's 5: pm." he said and he sat down at the edge of my bed.

I didn't sleep well, so the idea of getting up this early felt idiotic and impossible.

"I'll rip the covers off you unless you get up." I heard his young voice say and could feel a hand grabbing my foot.

"Why so early?" was my immediate response to his threat. He gave me no answer to this, and I could no longer feel his hand on my foot so I quickly shot up into a sitting position in order to avoid him depriving me of the warmth underneath my duvet. At the same moment, I realized that I no longer had my handcuffs on me, and I looked almost pleadingly at the boy who didn't look the slightest tired at all.

"You must help me. Something strange has happened. Have you seen-"

"I told you; I'll be hanging on your lock..." Schrödinger interrupted with a sneaky gleam in his eyes, and in his fingers, he twirled around a pair of handcuffs that looked just like the one who had me imprisoned yesterday. I sighed in relief, but couldn't help but wonder how and when he had taken them from me without me noticing.

"How did you-" I began, staring at the twirling chains in a confused trance.

"Oh, please!" Schrödinger scoffed and captured the end of the handcuffs in his hand with a noise of tinkling sounds from the chains; the satisfaction of looking at the looping metal dies then because it no longer existed.

"Even wild animals can slumber freely in their captivity." he said with a sweet smile. "Some of them…" he added less positively with a mumble, more to himself as he looked down at the messy bed sheets.

I gave him both of my hands willingly, wanting them on me as soon as possible to avoid confrontation. His smirk had gotten passionate on his face.

"Isn't this a sad sight?" he asked, making me lower my eager hands in mild confusion at his statement. He continued talking, as in answering my voiceless question.

"I just assumed that you'd be relived if I released you, but I suppose it's the other way around. It seems like you feel freer in these than out of them." he explained softly as he had gently but firmly grabbed me by the wrists and started lock them in.

"I'm sorry." he grinned up at me, and at the same time he hitched at them rather harshly, the cold metal feeling a bit too tight around my wrists. I jumped slightly at the sudden pain, but I didn't say anything, since his stare had me thoughtful and thrilled. His gloved hands were now stroking the back of my both hands as they slowly left them, without Schrödinger breaking eye contact with me.

The air around us was hard to breathe and Schrödinger's red eyes gleamed in that one manner that supposed he knew something I didn't, and his shiny lips were in a lopsided smile as we both speechlessly leaned forward. We looked at each other like we were about to kiss, and all of the sudden, I shamefully began thinking about the abandoned condoms and their wrappers in my bedside table and beneath the bed the two of us were sitting on. I could feel my cheeks glow and get warmer.

Whoever had lived in this room had probably used this bed for more than sleeping in it, I'm sure. I wondered if Schrödinger knew who he was. I opened my mouth to say something or remain speechless as our noses almost touched, but Schrödinger was one step ahead of me.

"I hope you're hungry. Breakfast is ready." he murmured, his words popping a hole in the whole atmosphere we had built up in vain. Then he stood up, leaving me sitting alone in bed underneath the thick cover, chained.

"Inmates don't get breakfast." I hurriedly informed him, like I asked him to sit down again and get back to where we were before.

"Breakfast is ready." he repeated kindly and had already walked to the entrance and opened the door for me. Not daring to do anything else at the moment, I pushed the covers off me awkwardly due to my limited hands and followed after him without further excuses.

The walk with him didn't really turn out the way I had imagined. He didn't pull at me, and he didn't even walk alongside me. He wasn't even touching me at all as he walked in front of me, utterly convinced that I would follow him like a little child after a parent.

My eyes had a hard time deciding if they wanted to look at the shimmering blond back of his head, or the sharp elbows that hung casually next to his sides. I began blushing again. The width of his shoulder had grown. The horrid Swastika lingered on his arm like a reminder that we weren't the same. This boy constantly changed how he carried himself. I almost couldn't believe that this was the same person I met yesterday. His aura was suddenly much more stoic, willful and ... cold.

It was unfair. He had stolen a kiss from me yesterday, and now he was acting just like any other of the Millennium members.

"Hurry up."

I stumbled after him with my wrists captivated in front of me when he ordered me to hurry and I did just as I've been told and walked faster.

After hearing that serious order of his, I tried to convince myself that my time here is only temporary and that I will not be here forever and I will not die here. I don't need this catboy on my side to survive this.

I don't need anybody. All I need is inner peace. But inner peace if difficult to maintain when thinking about the past, and all I could ever think about was the spontaneous fruity and alcoholic peck on the lips I got yesterday, from this boy who seemed much younger than me.

Our walk to the dining room took longer than it did when I lived in my previous cell, but when we at last got there, watched over by the enormous Nazi cross, I felt a bit nervous. What will happen now? Will we eat together? Will he watch over me too when I'm eating? Does he even eat at all?

"I'll be back in half an hour. I want you to be ready by then." he said and gave me a small smile, already on his way turning back.

"Ready for what?" I asked, but he just continued smiling and walking away and did not answer.

Inner peace.

It was not until he was gone that I discovered that the whole dining room was empty of people. Not only that; I discovered other changes too. Instead of handing over a plate to the old strict food-ladies (who only speak German) and get food knocked off from tough wooden spoons to the hard plastic, the breakfast was a buffet laid out on a large table where you could pick and choose for yourself.

I hesitantly made my way over to the breakfast table, worried someone might see me. I didn't have the nerve to examine what was served so I just took whatever was nearest me and filled a bowl with purple yoghurt, snatched myself a spoon that was too small, and rushed to the loneliest and most discreet table that was placed in the corner.

I only allowed myself to breathe when I had been seated. While I was fiddling with my yoghurt, I began thinking about my former colleagues from the Hellsing Organization. I wished they were here with me right now. Another thing I wished for was that none of the Millennium soldiers would enter the dining room. But you can't always get what you want.

Just then, a number of about ten men made themselves noticed with cackling voices drenched in German.

I only looked at them until I caught someone's eye, then I glanced busily down at the purple cream and put my tiny spoon in and out of it. I had never felt as alone and exposed in front of them as I felt now. This whole situation made me think of middle school somehow; when the students from the higher classes entered the cafeteria like they owned the whole building, and you sat there, alone or with a few friends, or even with a teacher, like a vegetable.

The problem is that I am completely by myself right now, trapped inside the corner I picked for myself and no friends at my table to back me up and the teachers has gone for coffee break in the staff room. I did everything I could. I refused to look up from my plate. But the more you want to be left alone, the more the bullies enjoy tormenting you. I had to learn this the hard way. I almost dropped my spoon in the uneaten yoghurt as I could hear a voice hover above my head.

"Mooove, inmate!"

This might appear awkward, what comes up next, but after being referred to as 'inmate', it changes your perspective on things and you immediately get into this 'fight or flight-mode', which in Millennium Organization often gets converted into 'flight or flight-mode', because if you choose to talk back at an order, you choose to get yourself in big trouble.

Now for the awkward part then. My flight-mode kicked in and I stood up in a flash and grabbed my bowl, making the unknown stranger step back in a clever instinct, because the small spoon had jingled to the table and splashed purple in his direction. My chair had sounded embarrassingly loud and I had earned more attention from soldiers picking food at the buffet table and my fumbling hands almost dropped the plastic tableware entirely. For just a second, my eyes met a pair of wide green eyes, and it was then that I discovered that he did not belong to the group of cackling men that came in, who had already settled themselves elsewhere, or were still picking their breakfast.

I was alone, I was embarrassed, and I was terrified. He was alone too, and he was grinning at me, and the little show I just had performed. Before I would take the flight-mode to the next level, his shocked eyes which had got amused, turned into a pair of concern and confusion and he made a motion with his free gloved hand. It was a soothing motion, like he wanted to calm an aggressive dog. He snickered deeply.

"What are you doing? I'm just messing around with you. Please stay. Is this seat taken?" he asked and put down his jam-packed plate and sat in front of me, beginning to remove his gloves. I slowly sat down on the chair again, watching him curiously as his voice nestled into my mind in recognizing and made itself felt in my thoughts.

His green eyes shared my curiosity when he glanced up from his food that he was preparing. He seemed pleased that I had been seated again.

"What's your name, girly?" he asked with a genuine smile. He had no German accent. He must be a volunteer of some sort. "I didn't mean to frighten you like that. Therefore I ask of your name, since the term 'inmate' made some of your yoghurt go to waste…" he snickered again and watched the surface of the table that was stained like a little child had been eating here.

That snicker…

"Is that really all you going to eat by the way?" he asked, mentioning to the pool of purple in my bowl that at some point had got me sick to my stomach. So much had he said, yet all I remembered was his first words.

'Mooove inmate.'

I couldn't stop staring at his face, he didn't look as scary as some of the other soldiers did but he was still a soldier, a soldier with a weapon and a duty, and short auburn hair and green eyes and he was…

'Mooove inmate.'

"You're Sir daddy-moo. I recognize your voice." were the first words I ever said to the man face to face, and the flight or flight-mode kicked in just as quickly as the kind and curious face of his faded into nothing but surprise.

There was no turning back now. I had talked back to a bully, perhaps being a bully myself by calling him such a disgraceful thing, and there was no teacher around to make us friends again. I had to sort that matter out myself.

After seeing his baffled expression; I instantly regretted what I just had called him. But after seeing his face crack up into yet another snicker I felt somehow relieved. I tried to mirror his smile submissively, but mine probably faded next to his white straight rows of teeth that were still exposing themselves in attractive laugher. I almost felt moved when he even had to lay down his knife and fork to be able to control his laughter, and wipe the corners of his eyes.

"Jesus Christ!" he cried out, grabbing a napkin and wiped his smiling mouth. I went from impolite, to full of regret, to relieved, to moved and now, a mix of startled and guilty. Was this the right time to apologize?

"You do realize that that's the very first thing you ever said to me?" his recalling question was coated with an excited voice. It sounded like he could not even believe it himself, because his words carried an amazed character. I smiled awkwardly, starting to shift around in my chair.

"I'm sorry, maybe I should-"

"No please stay! I'm not offended. I just thought it was comical. So, what's your name, sweetheart?"

Please stay.

What's your name, sweetheart.

Are those commands?

I glanced towards the exit as I slowly leaned back into the chair again. I tried not to look nervous when I looked into his bright eyes.

"Lydia Romanoff, Sir." I said to him.

He told me his name was Jack and that he'd been working as a guard within the Millennium Organization since he was 17. Even though he was in his early 40's, he didn't look that old at all. We talked with each other for a few more minutes and I can honestly say that I really enjoyed myself and could even relax in his presence. We blend in well with the chattering chaos of soldiers and guards, and for a second, I didn't even feel like a prisoner here. I suppose I had gotten myself a teacher at my table. Or even a friend.

"So do you have a boyfriend?" he suddenly asked, making me feel a bit uneasy.

"Not really." I said quietly, feeling my face heat up in embarrassment and hoping he wouldn't dig deeper into the subject. I knew it was just a harmless little question, but who wants to be reminded of their single life on a daily basis?

"My wife is at home in Dresden. She's working in a post office." he said, grabbing a toothpick and toyed with it in his fingers.

"Oh..." I said foolishly. I didn't have much to say about that. I was happy for him, but I couldn't help but feel bad for his wife, who must miss him so. She couldn't know if he'd come home or not. A war is ahead of us, after all.

"Do you have any children?" I asked carefully, my face already settling into a expression of compassion.

"Oh! Hell no!" he answered quickly and laughed, mocking my question, like it would be his worst nightmare. I stared down awkwardly, feeling dumb.

"I don't think we'll get there." he said more kindly, perhaps not wanting me to believe that I said something wrong to him. "I'm not sure our relationship is that perfect, either." he continued and I was again looking at him and listening.

"But it feels good to have somebody out there. It makes you remind yourself that it is a world outside, and this is only temporary. Otherwise, you'll turn completely mad, love." he explained to me, putting a long finger to his temple.

He really talked like this was a prison, not only for me and my trainees but even for some of the men as well, and it made me even more frightened of this place than anything. He was working here, so he couldn't do much about it, other than quitting completely if it became too much for him. But I was a prisoner here. I didn't have a choice. That's the difference between us.

"What's with that gloomy face of yours?" he asked me, waving his toothpick in front of my face before putting it in his mouth.

"It's not that bad. At least you're cute. I mean, look at these guys!" he murmured with the small stick in-between his lips, mentioning to the soldiers who had a big feud with the dishwasher once again. I couldn't help but smile at this man.

"That's the pretty smile I missed." Jack said, biting his toothpick and tried to smile at me while chewing on it, and he made it work for him because he managed to look absolutely gorgeous while doing it. He was so kind to me. Not in a creepy way like some of the others were, but in a genuine, honest and sweet manner.

I couldn't believe that he thought that way about my smile, and here I thought his smile was impossible to compete with from the very beginning. Even after having him named Sir Daddy-Moo, he gave me that. I don't get compliments often about my smile, so it was very nice to hear that for a change.

"Thank you so very much." I said dumbly, by wanting to show him how moved I truly was. I needed to tell him something too.

"Your eyes are pretty." I said shyly, wanting to give him that. Because with the contrast of his tanned skin and auburn hair, those green orbs almost popped out of his face like Northern Lights in a dark sky. I felt the need to mirror his kindness, so it felt very good to get that off my chest. Jack was smiling back at me, the toothpick almost dropping from his mouth.

"Oh they really are, aren't they? Won't you look at those…"

The voice that spoke did not belong to Jack. I felt shivers ran down my spine at his sudden presence. He was sitting in the chair next to me, his hands playing curiously with my silver spoon. His eyes seriously examined Jack's in some kind of morbid fascination while getting his dressed fingertips lilac with yoghurt that smudged onto the quality fabric of his white gloves.

Jack spit out his toothpick onto his empty plastic plate.

"Schrödinger." he acknowledged.

"Jack..." Schrödinger said casually while nonchalantly toying with my spoon, just like Jack had with the toothpick in his bare fingers.

So these two obviously they knew each other. I didn't know what to do or say. But one thing was certain, it was impossible for me to take back my compliment about Jack's pretty eyes now. All I could think about was how Schrödinger could take somebody's eyes out if he really wanted to. I'm so stupid. I should've left when I still had the chance. I finished my bloody yoghurt 15 minutes ago, so why was I still here?

"Are you responsible for this?" Schrödinger asked Jack, nodding coolly sideways at my direction without even glancing at me.

"This" he had said.

"I'm not." Jack answered Schrödinger's question, even though I could see he was not found of the way he had pronounced me and gave me a short wary gaze."But joining this at breakfast has been a great pleasure." he said and smiled at me, but I felt nothing.

He couldn't flatter me anymore. All I could feel was the urge to hide underneath the table.

Accepting my silence, Jack said goodbye to us.

"If the two of you don't mind, I'm off to my duty." Jack rose in perfect synch with the signal that pulled certain soldiers into their missions and left me and Schrödinger by ourselves after pulling his removed gloves back on.

"How could you say that about me?" I said as quietly as I could, glancing at Schrödinger with a mysterious sadness inside me when Jack was far away from our table. He didn't answer my question as his eyes bored themselves into the back of Jack's head as he headed towards the dishwasher along with his other fellows.

Schrödinger didn't look at me until Jack had officially left the dining room. His reddish eyes looked much redder than they used to, almost vampire-like crimson. He leaned back in his chair, finally letting go of the sticky spoon he held. His arms, along with his sharp elbows crossed over his chest and he transferred yoghurt onto his uniform without a single care in the world and it made me really uncomfortable.

When I looked at the abandoned spoon on the table in front of us, I discovered that it had been twisted like a corkscrew, and I looked back at Schrödinger in terror who was waiting for my attention. A smile was gracing his lips and he almost looked like a normal person, and his normality was somehow horrifying.

"Let me escort you back to your room." he said in a kind voice.

Schrödinger eyed me in the weak light from the corner in my room. The door was only centimeters away from him so he could easily walk out if he wanted to. But he didn't. I sat in a small sofa that I'd discovered next to the wardrobe, not far away from the nightstand. I sat like a little child in a meeting with their teachers and parents in school. My knees joined each other as my calves parted slightly to the floor. My hands rested in my lap and my head hung slightly, some of my bangs covering my eyes.

"Will you keep standing there?" I asked in a very low voice that I could barely hear myself.

After another silence escort, now from the cafeteria, Schrödinger hadn't left my side, and he hadn't said a single word. Every time I looked at his face, I saw his perpetual smirk and gleaming eyes with a feeling that was impossible for me to describe. I was gambling with the idea to confront him again, but last time I did it, I got a improper kiss on my conscience, so I do not know if it was a good choice to make, given to his behavior on this day.

I sighed and leaned back in the sofa. I could feel just how confused I was, and how my worried eyes were fighting their own battle to even be able to keep looking at him. He could undoubtedly see how frustrated I was. For just looking at him was a struggle for me, and he was aware of that.

He said my name, and began walking slowly towards me.

"Did you enjoy your breakfast?" he asked, mouth smiling and eyes still closed, even though he was walking. His fingers twitched, traces of yoghurt still on his gloves. I sat up more properly.

"Maybe it was a bad idea to leave you alone... You told me inmates didn't get any breakfast after all. Perhaps there's a good reason for that." he wondered out loud.

"I didn't know you would choose to sit with some stranger." he said innocently.

"He sat down with me. He even asked to." I said. My serious voice and his nonchalant voice rattled off each other between the walls. He was about one and a half meter away from me as he kneeled down in the middle of the room on the carpet.

His feet balanced his form, allowing him to lean on his elbow that was placed on one of his knees; his chin was resting in one of his hands, and he was smiling and looking at me from his effortless position that would make any other person look overworked. But Schrödinger, he made everything look easy.

He made everything impossible possible. He always had this look in his eyes that he knew something everyone else didn't, but this stare was overwhelming.

His mischievous eyes concealed the thoughts of a world that I did not want to share with him. He looked so incredibly satisfied.

"Well so nice of him. What a gentleman, that Jack." he let out a small chuckle and calmly continued.

"It's not that difficult to ask a person to leave, so it is your fault." he said, tilting his head to the side.

"What's my fault?" I asked. An unpleasant silence breathed in the room, leaving me desperate for answers.

"Schrödinger. What's my fault?" I repeated, this time sounding more frantic, and almost on the verge of tears. Even though I had no idea what he was playing at, I've gotten a very bad feeling. I had to leave his eyes and look at something else so I would get distracted and could breathe and think properly.

"This isn't funny anymore. What do you want?" I looked at him but it didn't take long before my eyes bounced back to what I'd stared at earlier. Schrödinger stood up and cleared his throat, stepping forward. For the first time, he towered over me but all I could do was avoid his gaze with a frown. I felt my cheeks heat up.

My heart raced as he kneeled down again, this time right in front of me. His fingers guided my face towards his, his reddish eyes slowly melting the frown off my face.

"I don't want you to be afraid." he whispered. My heart arched, and every breath became clearer. My dull eyes looked helplessly into his while my face wanted to get closer. My hand was holding his that was still near my face. Our foreheads met. My eyes stayed on him and never closed. I couldn't see it in its very own glory, but the smirk was on his face. I took one last breath before I squeezed his hand as hard as I could before I released it.

There was that silence again. I pulled away from him and succeeded to stand up despite the cramped space and walk towards the door. I didn't know if he was smirking or smiling or neither, but for the first time, his silence pleased me. I held the door open for him as he slowly rose from the floor in front of the couch, his blond bangs hanging in front of his shadowed face. He moved towards me and would just exit the room when I stopped him with my arm. There were a couple of things I needed to know before he left.

"We just met yesterday." I said.

"We did." he said, his eyes lighting up in realization, but he still didn't look at me, probably because I had rejected him seconds ago.

"And you stayed with me for a while last night." I said, and he looked at me with a mild frown, eyes still full of the unknown.

"No I didn't." he said carefully and thoughtfully. He ducked underneath my arm and appeared outside, now standing in the hall, leaving me just as confused as him in the doorway.

"But we-" I stopped myself, my arm leaving the doorframe as I slowly turned around to face him.

"We what, Lydia?" he asked and turned around too. I'd never seen him frown like this before. His gaze almost darkened in its mischievous grandeur. Schrödinger could read something on my face.

"Did you-" he stopped himself, only to think again with a curious frown and a bemused grin, but it didn't last long before he caught up with himself and filled out his horrible question.

"Did you fantasize about me?" he asked, his red eyes so big you could see all the white around them, his grin only extending on his features.

I began blushing furiously as I glanced at the area all around us, nervous somebody might have overheard him. I started to sweat, and I didn't know how to react to the absurdity in this situation. He was just a child.

"Why, but you I know we kissed, I-" I hopelessly ranted, but Schrödinger was too taken by the unexpected news that he didn't have a single care in the world about what I was trying in vain to convince him with.

The only word that seemed to have caught Schrödinger's attention was kissed and he looked both overjoyed and flabbergasted at the same time where he was standing.

"I don't believe you Lydia! You really had one of those mortal wet dreams about me!" he exclaimed like he had relieved the secrets of the universe.

"How was it?" he asked curiously with a mad undertone, his pearly white teeth showing inside his open mouth in awe.

I stared at him in utter shock, too bowled over to participate in this conversation, before slamming the door shut and locking it (with a small chain that was attached to the wall) like the devil himself was after me.

His cheeky false claims deprived me of my breath. I turned around and let my back guide me until I was seated on the floor in front of the door like a human doormat.

"A mortal wet dream..." I heard myself whisper, feeling my eyes water with tears.

I didn't want to leave my room for a while, and I never wanted to see this boy again.

I cried in my hands, and when I finally got to my senses and removed them, I discovered that the underneath of my fingernails were purple, clogged with yoghurt.