𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞; eugene roe ✔

PART FIFTEEN

Word count; 2,691

Valentina

Eugene Roe had watched everything. When he looked up to find I had disappeared, he heard the front door shut shortly afterwards. He had needed to go find another drip and, when he followed my footsteps, found me vanished once more, Johnny Martin having taken my place. Both before him were sensible enough men not to question Eugene's appearance from the house across the street, perhaps more so because Martin wouldn't stop interrogating Liebgott as to why I had ran away.

"Don't worry about it, John." Joe said.

"Well no, I gotta worry about it because she didn't look too happy, did she?"

"Superb observation Sergeant, want to make another?"

Even though Eugene had no idea as to what had happened, he still noticed a change in the air. So when he found me, all those hours later, he was still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together. As he allowed his arms to rest around my torso, he attempted to find some reason, some sort of bearing, but nothing surfaced. I hung onto him the entire time we walked away from the peer, my legs unable to do the work themselves. The downpour molded us together, bound us in a way I don't think I could ever forget. Something near my abdomen soared, wove into a knot that only pulled tighter. I cleared my throat, a distant recollection flashing through my mind from the last time I felt this way.

I hadn't realised where we were until we ascended the stairs of Herr Dietrich's house and burst through the doors, gladdened by the dry atmosphere and the lack of rain. Despite the humidity outside, the shower still fell onto the land with a piercing bite, leaving everything else raw with the parched air Austria's summer usually brought. Eugene directed us into the room over, where everything seemed to happen. Spiers still lounged on one of the sofas, like he hadn't moved a bit since we were last here. He watched the medic place me down on the sofa opposite him, how my soaked body began to seep into the fabric of the furniture.

"You good Doc?"

"Grand. Good to see you're sticking to my advice." Eugene replied to the Captain, swiftly hurrying off into another room to find a blanket.

Spiers rolled his eyes, returning to his previous activity of scribbling in his notebook. I stared at the ceiling, how it beckoned to me, the chandelier's crystals above us gently dancing with the footsteps of someone above it. My stomach swelled, the knot tightening, and something beneath my eyelids began to burn. Spiers glanced up.

"Hey Doc, why don't you find a bed for the lady instead? Won't it be more comfortable?" The Captain called, to which direction it didn't matter.

My gaze fell onto him and his lips tilted softly; he didn't even know why I required Eugene's attention, why I was there even, but sensed my instability and instinctively knew I'd appreciate somewhere else, somewhere alone where I could cry without any awkwardness from those around me.

Spiers tossed his notebook to the space next to him and stood with a grunt, using an armrest as an anchor. He wobbled away to a glass cabinet, searching for a drink.

"You know, sticking to my advice includes when my back is turned, Sir." Eugene stated as he re-entered the room.

The officer chuckled, "Not when scotch is in the question."

"Do you know if there are any beds available?"

"A few. We've been sleeping under the stars the last few nights," He turned, revealing a glass of scotch whiskey, and took a sip. "It's just so goddamn beautiful."

Eugene helped me up once more. Upstairs, he left me against a wall, near a decorative table with a voluminous potted fern above it, rushing forward. He knocked on doors and and poked his head into rooms, hoping to find one without residents and not walk in to something he didn't want to see. Eventually, at the end of the corridor, he found his solution and came back. I bit my tongue, not wanting to comment on the chamber we were about to enter.