Piano keys were her childhood, but the grasp of a pistol was her reality. Polish SOE Agent, Natia Filipska, has lurked among the rubble and the shadows of her occupied-Warsaw for years, ever since the war started and ripped her from the life that ha...
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"I am tired of hiding, tired of misspent and knotted energies, tired of the hypocrisy, and tired of acting as though I have something to hide."
― Kay Redfield Jamison
｡↷ ✧*̥₊˚‧☆ﾐ
Zell Am See, Austria
May 10th, 1945
0945
Natia felt like the world was suddenly upside down. Everything had been fine. Fine in the sense that for once, it almost felt as if nothing much was needed of her. Fine in the sense that, she was not being chased or hunted and preyed on. She was able to walk down the street without a hand on her pistol, she was able to go to sleep at night, save for the nightmares, knowing there wouldn't be Nazis at her doorstep. She was able to finally manage to relax somehow and yet, with this? Everything was upside down. Her fists clenched and her jaw tightened as tears streaked down her cheeks.
" Agent?" Natia snapped her head up and stopped still in the cobblestone street, squinting her burning eyes forward to find Liebgott standing there. Natia stared at him, convincing herself that she wasn't crying right now, here in the middle of the road, walking aimlessly with a thousand thoughts racing through her mind, with Joe Liebgott staring at her.
" Hey," she croaked out, brushing her hair back and out of her face and letting out a shaky sigh, her lip giving way to a few lone trembles," just....went for a walk." Liebgott stared at her for a moment and bit back his lip.
" Just a walk?" he asked her as Natia blinked a few times to gather herself," You look like you just woke up." A mix between a laugh and a cry escaped her lips and she knew from that moment just how much she'd miss him, even if he didn't know that.
Natia tried to speak, but all that managed to trickle out from her mouth was a pathetic cry and that's when she covered her eyes with her fingertip indented hands, hands that had cared and killed and gone through carnage with blood and death and war. She had never felt so vulnerable all the sudden; there was the light of the sun on her and Joe's eyes flying bullets into her skull. There was no cover, no darkness, no shield that she could hide away from and keep herself hidden anymore. She was an open wound, waiting for the salt to sting or the knife to twist deeper. She was the moon at night, the rain storm that came with no warning, the darkness that appeared at the end of each day and disappeared without a fight.
Suddenly, she was being swallowed into a hug, a warm body wrapping itself around her and holding her there in their arms, like a blanket for cover, a place to hide. She was never much of a hugger, even before the war, but now as she stood there, with his arms wrapped around her, she couldn't help but hold onto him even tighter. Joe didn't seem to want to ask her what was wrong and for the moment, she was okay with that.
Joe held her there for quite some time. She quite honestly could not describe the comfort she felt from his hand rubbing gently on her back and his presence there wrapped around her. It felt like her brother's hugs, like a hug that was somewhat rare but always there no matter what. By the time Liebgott had pulled back, he was holding her at arm's length by her wavering shoulders and staring at her from underneath the golden sun trying to figure her out. Trying to solve this mess of a puzzle.
