PLEASE NOTE: I do not give permission for any reproduction, re-imagination, or re-adaptation of this story in any way, shape, or form. Do not plagiarize my work.
6 October, 1943
The concept of living without Krista interests me none. I find the thought of not waking up beside her and not feeling her heart beating beneath mine to be unpalatable.
I've grown to love her so fully and unfalteringly in such a short period of time, and I have realized that continuing on without that love that I've grown to need like a drug would likely render me useless. She has become my voice of reason.
She is my moral compass.
The cold rain of the early October days beats against the windows in this room, threatening to break in at any second, but I couldn't care less if it did; she's here with me now. Sound asleep in the center of my bed.
The world could collapse around us, and the ground could crumble beneath our feet, but as long as I would have her by my side, I wouldn't mind being swept from this Earth.
Every time our lips touch, I feel as if I am being set aflame by her desire.
Oh, her lips.
Always coated in a thin layer of lustrous, ruby red.
Her hair is smooth as silk, her skin warm and soft like velvet.
And her eyes… The most vibrant shade of emerald green I've ever seen.
I get lost in her eyes every now and again, and I find myself drifting away into the viridescent swirls with no desire to be rescued. She would never sit still long enough, but if I could, I would stare into those eyes for hours not saying a single word.
I can confidently say that she has changed who I am. She's made me in the type of man that my father would have taken great pride in.
Krista has given me something that I would tirelessly fight to my last breath for. She's given me something to be protective of.
She really needn't my protection though; I believe that she is more than capable of being her own savior, should the occasion arise.
I see so much of myself in her, I suppose it was only natural that we fell together so quickly.
My post in Paris is nearing its end. By the first of the year, I will be back on German soil until this goddamned war draws to a close.
I cannot allow myself to leave this city without her. I will find a way to keep her with me. I'll do anything within my power.
I allowed my indecisiveness to affect us, but as time progresses I'm realizing that my heart no longer lies with The Reich. It lies with her.
My heart is safe with her.
My loyalty to her will never falter; I will love her until the day I die.
-HL
13 October, 1943
I will never tire of the devilish dance of Krista's lips over my skin. It's sinful, what she can do with the slightest flick of her tongue.
She's experienced beyond her years, and I still struggle to comprehend that she is capable of being my undoing so easily.
She's got the eyes of the devil, but the form of a goddess. When she's bare before me, it takes every bit of self-control I can muster to not let my hands grace every bit of her skin that I can.
The way she arches her back when I trail a single finger down her stomach replays in my mind often during my down time.
There is no shyness or trepidation in her reactions to my touch.
The animal inside me is impossible to tame when I have her beneath my fingertips.
The way she says my name when she's breathless and on the edge will never fail to ignite me with needful fire that scorches me to the core.
It will never cease to breathe fresh, lustful life into me.
-HL
October 13th, 1943; Wedneday (8:36 PM – Paris Outskirts)
Leaning back in his leather chair, Hans clasped his hands behind his head and turned his attention to the star littered darkness outside the office window. The clock on the wall ticked as the seconds passed, and his eyes fell to the positions of the hands on its face. Nine o'clock neared, and he had again lost track of time within his thoughts.
A sigh passed his lips as he stood up from the chair and flipped his journal closed. The room was left dark and unoccupied and he padded his way to the front of the house. The half smoked cigarette that sat abandoned on the coffee table found its way between his fingers on his short journey to the outside of the house.
The first puff burned his lungs, the second intensifying it. As the smoke curled from his lips and dissipated into the air, his thoughts disappeared with it and left behind a somewhat quieted mind.
Pale moonlight gleamed off of the rounded fenders of the 770 parked in the grass, the rays diffracted by the swirl marks in the paint left behind by improper washing and drying.
Cigarette between his lips, he laid down in the wild grass and let his eyes shift from star to star. He wondered if she was looking up at the same stars, or if she was on stage being a star.
10:19 PM (The Saint James)
Wednesdays were slow.
That's just the way things were.
There were fewer officers to be emptied of their pockets during the week, because the morning hours came alarmingly early after a night of binge drinking and adult entertainment.
Had it not been for Sturmbannführer Stage's trip to Eden, she wouldn't have come close to making her tip out, and much less have anything to tuck away for her sister's bracelet. She was so close to having it in her hands, she could almost feel the precious metal of the diamond encrusted panther in her palm.
The aching in her feet was impossible to ignore as the stairs before her seemed to continue to rise and never end. Her hand met the cool railing as her other hoisted her leather duffel in a more comfortable position over her shoulder.
The comfort of her bed was calling to her; she could hear it.
Sleep wouldn't evade her tonight; she was textbook exhausted.
She unlocked the door and pressed it open, immediately falling into a state of stunned confusion.
Her confused green eyes drifted from wall to wall, surface to surface.
The place had all but been ransacked; everything was in disarray.
Her once neatly made bed's blankets and pillows lay scattered across the floor. The corner of her mattress was dramatically misaligned and dangling toward the floor. Her makeup was scattered across the floor like lily pads on a pond. The paintings once on the walls were all either askew on their securing nails or lying propped against the walls they hung on. Angry, heavy footsteps emerged from the balcony and approached her threateningly. "Where is it?" Kaltenbrunner asked, a dulled fury already in his Austrian accented English.
Her patience for dealing with him at the moment was absent. "Where is what?" she asked, letting her annoyance thinly taint her words.
"The photograph! Don't act as ignorant as you look! Where is it!?" he growled, his face growing a shadowy shade of pink as he thrust a fisted hand into the wall, a stream of blood forming from the broken skin on his knuckles.
She let her eyes wander around the disheveled state of her room once more before meeting Kaltenbrunner's eyes again. "You came here looking for it." It wasn't a question, more of an observation fueled by context clues. "How do you keep getting into my room?" she questioned, shifting her weight on her feet and crossing her arms stubbornly.
"Goddammit!" he shouted, raising his injured right hand and drawing it across her face with a force that forced her arms out of their position.
The contact was deafening; it echoed within the walls of the open room.
Her vision darkened, her ear began to ring loudly.
Krista squinted her eyes closed tightly as an irritating, hot sting radiated from her cheek to her nose. Warmth of a thin trail of blood spilled from her nostril and settled into her cupid's bow in a small red pool.
It dripped from her nose to the floor below before she had half a chance to catch it in her hand. 'Son of a bitch,' she thought, finally turning to face Kaltenbrunner and wiping her nose. Her switchblade was at close disposal, but any form of retaliation would be of no help. It would only spur him to push his requests for Hans's earlier transfer more tenaciously.
Her tongue darted out to lap at the split on her bottom lip, the metallic taste of iron being drawn into her mouth unwillingly. "Don't make me ask you again," he huffed wriggling his fingers and rolling his wrist before swiping the back of his hand on the nearby bedspread.
God forbid he get blood on his uniform.
She wiped at her nose again, and with shaking fingers delved into the bag across her body.
The muffled rustling of his uniform and unbuttoning of his belt holster met her ears, and she turned to face him, hands up in a surrender position. "I'm unarmed," she said before sniffling and watching as three water-like drops of blood fell into her bag. She shook her head to herself. The blood would never come out of the outfits and costume accessories inside; they were all pastel blue with white embroidery.
She fished around to the bottom of the bag until the corner of the photograph poked her trembling finger. "I've been carrying it with me because I don't trust you," she said honestly as she held it before her at chest height.
He attempted to raise his hand to her again, but the aggressed flare of her nostrils and her darkened glare that bore into him made him rethink his choices. "Get rid of it," he said, tossing a lighter to her.
It bounced once on the floor before toppling end over end just before her.
With the photo now crumpled in her left hand, she knelt down to retrieve the Parteiadler engraved lighter from her feet.
He followed her glance to the opened balcony doors, and shook his head disapprovingly. "Don't you dare."
She clutched the lighter in her hand as she pushed away the thought of letting the photograph fall to the grounds below and become someone's bombshell discovery. "I won't," she said, dabbing at her nose and holding her fingers out for her observation now that the bleeding had slowed to a trickle.
Kaltenbrunner's foreboding form loomed uncomfortably close behind her as she crossed the room to the open balcony. She shot a stealthy glance over her shoulder, and he was still grasping the grip of his pistol with his finger resting on the trigger guard. She swallowed hard and turned to face him once fully in the outside air. "I wanted it in writing that I had held up my end the bargain, and that you had no more ties to me."
He swayed his head around sarcastically, rudely emphasizing his words as he spoke. "And as I recall, I made it clear that the formality was unnecessary."
He studied her closely, only lunging forward toward her as she took a half step backward toward the balcony's railing, the photo unfurled and dangling over the edge. "It wasn't to me. In all honesty, all I wanted was for Hans to be happy."
"That's bullshit!"
She cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows creasing her forehead. "It's absolutely not." She brought the photo back in front of her and let her lips curl into a disgusted, twisted frown. She flipped the lighter in her hand and lit it, letting the flame flicker and catch her attention momentarily. "Will you rescind your request to transfer him before the first of the year?" she asked with an even tone, her eyes flicking up from the warming flame and to the clearly very agitated officer opposite her.
Dark laughter fell from his thin lips. "It's already been sent in for Heinrich Himmler's consideration. And I can promise you princess, I'm not one that he typically says no to," he said, leaning forward and into her personal space.
She sighed softly, and raised the tip of the flame to a crumbled edge of the photo. The thin flame from the lighter teased at the corner, the fiery tendrils slowly rising.
Krista's only scrap of leverage was being set aflame just before her eyes.
She watched as the emulsion bubbled around Kaltenbrunner and Ruby's faces before they burned away into nothing but blackened, ashen paper.
The gentle flames worked their way upward toward Krista's blood stained fingers and she released it, letting it flutter to the ground and become an object of the past.
"You know, Miss Jäger, this tough girl act has to stop. I tried my best to bend you into shape. I saw great potential in you for a time," he trailed off as the last of the charred photo fell victim to the relentless lick of the flames. "Judging by how stumblingly your blackmail attempt was executed, I've since rethought that. You're useless to me. Just another one of Red's worthless sluts," he said, grasped roughly at her chin and angling her head so that it faced the light from inside. "I've advised you against wronging me. I can take away everything you love and Hans can't stop me." His eyes trailed down the dried blood on her face, a dark chuckle piercing the air. "You should probably get that cleaned up."
She yanked her face from his rough fingertips from and pushed past him toward the bathroom, purposefully knocking her arm into his on the way.
He seemed to be satisfied with himself, and secured his pistol in its holster. "I anticipate Standartenführer Landa's transfer request to be approved by the close of the week." He straightened his uniform, and scooped his visor cap up from the floor near the exit to the hallway outsideher room. "I suggest you savor the last of your numbered days."
Even though her eyes were steadfastly trained on Kaltenbrunner from the bathroom doorway, she still jumped when he slammed the door like she hadn't expected it.
She forced her legs to carry her to the door to lock it and she pressed her palms to the hard wood as her brain caught up to current. She didn't think it possible that Heinrich Himmler would approve such a request, but then again, she didn't know which way was up half the time anymore, so she could be wrong. She didn't even know if Kaltenbrunner truly had the authority to request something of that nature.
She turned around, finally dropping her bag from her shoulder and letting it land to the floor with a flop. She pushed her back into the door, the indentations in it digging into her spine.
Krista's knees grew soft, and her body sank to the floor with a thud. It was already practically Thursday, and there was no telling if Friday or Saturday was considered the close of the week. Two days wouldn't be nearly enough time, nor would three.
Her heavy head fell into her hands as hot tears silently filled her tear ducts.
A stomach turning flurry of emotions washed over her like a tidal wave.
From the first time she muttered 'I love you' under her breath, she knew that she would dread the day when they'd be forced to part forever. That day could be so painfully close if Kaltenbrunner was successful in getting what he wanted, and the realization was just too much.
Hans was a part of her now, and she felt that tearing that part from her would no different from ripping her to bits.
It was like the book she was so engrossed in was being slammed shut abruptly, but she had yet to finish; She just wanted to read a little while longer to see if there would really be a happy ending.
14 October, 1943
I dreamt of her again last night.
It was so unbelievably vivid, that I swear I could feel her gentle weight beside me. I could almost smell that delightful rose blend of a perfume she's always wearing. I could almost feel those lazy kisses greeting my lips while she's still half asleep.
Three rolls of my film have been processed and developed, and they're simply works of art.
She's an angel.
I find myself looking at them repeatedly, absorbing every single minute detail that I can.
The photographs that captured her genuine smile are some of my favorites. When she smiles, I know that it's genuine and it's meant only for me.
She is the singular source of my happiness now, and I am surely hers.
Her personality lights up a room. I suppose it's no wonder that she's Red's headliner.
Perhaps a biased opinion, but Krista is the best headliner Red has had in the last two years. She has an allure that can so easily draw you in and hold your attention in a way that no other possibly could.
Luckily for me though, I am the only one that has the privilege to hold her behind closed doors, when she simply provides a barely tangible fantasy for all of the others.
I am the only one that has the privilege to taste the divine and make love to her until the first light of the morning.
-HL
October 14th, 1943; Thursday (6:54 PM – The Saint James)
The clock ticked like a haunting metronome in the background while she stared at the subtle bruising that dusted her left cheek in the bathroom mirror.
Her fingertips brushed over the faint imprint that still remained from Kaltenbrunner and let a sigh fall from her lips. They were still sore as she traced her tongue over them.
Krista stepped out of the bathroom long enough to sneak a glance at the clock; it was nearly seven already. If Hans were to drop by, he would have already done so. Their days were numbered; potentially very numbered. Every minute that passed, she could feel the inevitable gnawing at her insides.
But nonetheless… She was running late.
Again.
She shook her head and stuffed her hair into a loose ponytail at the base of her neck before tugging a loose jacket over her torso. She'd just have to make herself up in the locker room and finish tidying her room later on.
The thin leather strap of her duffel pressed into her shoulder, the contents apparently much heavier than they were the night before.
She hurried to button her jacket as she stumbled through the doorway and pulled the door closed behind her, locked tightly.
Her feet met the stairs with a dull slap, and she adopted a slow jog down them to the lobby.
A rush a cool air slipped into the spaces between the buttons on her jacket and she flipped the collar up, although it didn't do much to help.
Two men bundled in thick leather coats on identical motorcycles with sidecars rumbled past, followed by a pair of mud splattered 200 Langs. She approached the street, looking to her left and to her right before proceeding toward the other side.
A set of dim headlights illuminated the roadway beside her, a rude honk drilling into her eardrums. "Krista!"
Her head snapped to her left to see Hans's head poked out the rolled down window as he slowed his car to a stop. "Where are you going?" he called out, climbing out of the driver's seat without bothering to disengage the ignition.
She broke into a brisk walk in his direction, her bag swinging wildly around her body with every step. Her arms wound around him tightly, her face tucking beneath his chin. There was something so oddly intimate about the simplicity of just a hug, and she couldn't will herself to let him go. "Wherever you're going," she mumbled, her words tickling his skin. She let herself melt into the security of his embrace, her anxiousness easing momentarily.
"I'm never going to tell you no," he replied, placing a lingering kiss to the side of her neck.
She took a step back, his hands sliding down her arms until they stopped at her fingers. Diluted sadness splashed over her facial features although she hadn't meant it to. She chewed nervously at the inside of her lip, but offered a crooked smile. She was so happy to be with him, but it could very well be one of their last nights together.
"You must have been out all day?" he asked curiously as he led her by the hand to the other side of the car. "I came by to take you to pick up the bracelet you've been eyeing for your sister… What was her name again? Samantha?"
Krista let a soft chuckle free. "Sydney. You were close," she commended. "I'm still close to fifty thousand francs short though."
Hans shook his head, drawing her in for a warm kiss, their lips melding together without difficulty. "First thing tomorrow morning, I'll take you to pick it up." Hans's fingers curled around the door handle, and he pulled it open, allowing her to slide inside.
Krista turned her lazy gaze out the windshield while he closed the door and circled back around to the opened driver's side door.
The quietness between them made the ride seem to last a lifetime, and she was never more thankful when the parking brake was finally engaged, and she was able to emerge.
"We should sit outside," she suggested, as she stepped up onto the first step, tailing closely behind Hans. "It feels nice out."
He let a loving peck land on her cheek before nodding. "I'll take your bag in for you."
She handed her leather bag over and gingerly sat down on the bottom step.
"Were you going to work?" He appeared from the house a short while later with two cigarettes between his fingers, and a lighter identical to Kaltenbrunner's in his palm.
He took a seat to her side, lighting one of the two smokes and passing it to her.
Krista tilted her head slightly to the right as she exhaled, the fading light from the blue hour illuminating her skin. "What happened to your face, love?" he asked, placing his cigarette between his teeth and gently taking hold of her chin. His eyebrows drew together in his close observation of her freshly bruise tinted skin, his lips falling into a dismayed frown.
"It's a long story," she said with a nervous dismissive laugh before falling silent.
He turned her head gently again, noting the disappearing outline of a hand. He shook his head angrily, rising to his feet. "I'm going to kill him," he said, his voice thickly accented suddenly.
"Hans, come on," she tried, but he was already stomping back into the house. "Let it go."
"Let it go? Let it go? Krista, Kaltenbrunner put his hands on you. I'm not going to let that go."
She buried her face in her hands as gravity pulled her fallen cigarette to the ground.
"How do you even know it was him?" she asked in a weak attempt to diffuse the sudden onset of painful tension.
He shook his head. "Oh, please don't defend him after what he's putting us through," he all but snarled, flicking his cigarette off into the tall grass, discarded.
"I'm not," she forced through gritted teeth.
"What else did he do to you?"
"Nothing." She watched as he stormed toward his car with a flash of bloodlust in his eyes. "Ah, c'mon… Where are you going?"
She had barely made it to her feet before he was situated in the car. "I'll be back! For the love of god, don't go running off!" he shouted, stuffing the key into the ignition and cranking it.
"What are you doing?!"
"That's none of your concern at the moment!"
Krista hurried around to the front of the car as it began to roll backward. "Think about this!"
The headlamps floodlit her as she gained speed to keep up with the car's idling roll.
"Hey!" she cried, slamming her hands onto the still warm metal of the chrome grille with a loud smack. The brakes squealed, the car lurching to a stop.
He let it stall out, and shifted back into neutral before opening the door and stepping out onto the grass. "Are you out of your mind!?"
"Are you out of yours?" she countered, her shoulders slumping. "Think about it for a second... If you kill Kaltenbrunner, the High Command's going to kill you. If you only have until the end of the week in Paris, I don't want to spend those last three days with you dead."
He straightened and fell quiet. "What are you talking about?"
"Kaltenbrunner requested you to be transferred to Berlin before the end of the week…"
He shook his head slowly from side to side in confusion. "This is news to me."
She inhaled deeply, and padded through the overgrown grass to his door.
"My post ends the thirty-first of December, and not a day sooner," he assured. His mood was easing minutely, but his tone was still rather flat.
"If you do get taken out of France early, I don't want to be the last to know."
He slowly nodded, his eyes drifting to the trees that towered over the rear of the house. "I hear Argentina is beautiful place to be this time of year," he mentioned, shifting the subject. "Do you have any ideas that are better than that?"
She squeezed the bridge of her nose, sighing softly. "Not really… I'm not the brains of this outfit," she said, casting Hans a weakly playful glance, hoping he'd crack a smile. Fleeing couldn't really be the favorable option, and she hated to be the voice of reason. "Kaltenbrunner won't leave either of us alone until we're not together."
Krista looked down toward the ground, and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. She winced when the edge of her tooth grazed over the healing split, but pressed in deeper. "Would you be willing to wait until the war is over? We can't be touched then."
Her thoughts were interrupted, her eyes rising to his.
"Who knows how long it could go on… Would you still feel the same after it's over?"
"I'll wait for years if I have to. Heaven knows I'd never be able to get over you… We can find a way to make it work," he tried, finally reaching a much more restrained state than before.
"You've always been the more optimistic of the two of us," she said airily, half of a grin pulling at her lips.
He watched her closely as she brought her hands into the sleeves of her jacket. The gears were turning inside her brain. He could see the idea materializing.
"You know," she began, her eyes trailing along the leaf littered ground ahead of her. "If he thinks that we split, he might back off."
His eyes searched for hers. "Krista…"
"If we're not seen together, he might think that we're not together." She took a few slow steps around the open door, and freed her hands from her sleeves. She reached for his hands, her fingers gently wrapping around them. Her thumb grazed traced over the veins on the back of his left hand, his skin warm beneath her touch.
"I think you're right," he finally said after a moment of simply enjoying the tender massage of the pad of her thumb. "If we proceed like we're estranged, he will have no reason to interfere with either of our lives."
Author's Note: Hello readers! This chapter was inspired partially by 'Just Pretend' by BAD OMENS. (If you like rock, I recommend giving their music a listen.)
Additionally, I've recently realized that I've been a perpetrator of a couple of no-nos. I have excessively long chapters, and the main character is my OC (I promise you that my next story will not be that way). If those things have caused you to click off and cease your reading, I sincerely apologize. This is a very self-indulgent fanfiction, and I didn't think that anyone was actually going to read it when I started writing it.
So if you have stuck with me despite the nature of what I've written, I thank you with all my heart. I'm not amazing at writing, but I genuinely enjoy it. Thank you to any of you that are wholeheartedly enjoying reading this as much as I am writing it.
As always, thank you for reading and continuing to read! Don't hesitate to leave constructive criticism or suggestions! Your input as readers is incredibly helpful to me!