Intertwine

70 - Nice Meeting You Heart-Breaker

ADITI

"Bastardo!"  The girl kicked the crate of vegetables, swiping her long hair back behind her face. "Pezzo di merda." She kicked it again angrily.

"Ciao bella." She looked around. A man was standing, leaning rather, on the back of the truck, his army uniform slightly rumpled. He was young, clean shaven, with a squared jaw and short brown hair. He didn't sound Italian, his accent wasn't quite right. 

"Rimarra lì a guardare a bocca aperta? O mi aiuterai?" The girl asked him angrily, arms waving in his face, before again sweeping her incredibly long dark hair off her face.

"Woah woah woah," he put his hands up in front of him, "I don't actually speak Italian doll."

"Then why the hell did you talk to me in Italian? You soldiers are useless!" She put her chin up, hands on hips. 

The man was taken aback. He was expecting maybe broken English in an Italian accent, or an American accent. Not an English one. Her voice was a lot gruffer in English, down to earth, practical. 

"Uh." He closed his mouth. 

She glared at him and went back to trying to pick up the crate. 

"Do you want help with that?" She glanced up. He was crouched beside her, his face close to hers, hands on the wooden planks that made up the box she was trying to lift. She tried very hard not to concentrate on the fact that his fingers were slightly over hers. He had blue eyes, like hers but lighter. 

She nodded and together they lifted up the crate.

"Where are we taking it?" He asked.

"The food store, the building," she grunted and readjusted her grip, "building over there." She nodded to a large building with a domed roof, covered in corrugated iron.  

They walked together, sidestepping past people as they went, taking it one step at a time.

"I can't believe they were going to make you carry this on your own." He glanced down at the contents of the crate. Potatoes. It was a big container, far too big for one person to carry alone.

"All of you are busy getting ready to fight Nazis," she blew some hair out of her eyes, "who else would carry it?"

The sidestepped together into the building. It was big and cool and dark. They heaved the crate into a space and leant on the wall, panting.

"James Barnes. 107th." He held out a hand.

She hesitated, hand hovering above his, "Hazel. Hazel Jones." They shook.

"What did you shout at me, back there in Italian?"  He asked, wiping his hands off.

"Oh something along the lines of 'are you going to stay there gawking or will you help me?'"  She gave him a cheeky smile. 

"What are you doing in Italy Hazel Jones?" He asked, blue eyes glinting in the darkness.

"I came over to help. Actually I got stuck in Germany and had to escape across the Austrian border, came over to Italy. I could have gone home to England but..." 

"You decided to stay." 

She nodded and rolled her sleeves up her arms to her elbows. "It seemed the right thing to do. I work at the shop, we bring in the food supplies and make some of the meals."