Reyna Feldman, a twenty year old Jewish girl from the tiniest of villages in France, is on the run. Captured by German soldiers while trying to escape over the border, she's taken to an internment camp in Freiburg, Germany, where she meets SS Philli...
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Another chap for y'all because I had a bit of free time this afternoon! I know we have some LucaxReyna shippers (sometimes myself included (; ) but gosh I just love Phillip so much <3 Let me know what you think!!
Reyna sat, her legs tucked underneath her, in the same velvet armchair she'd grown accustomed to sitting in over the last week. Phillip sat beside her tonight, lounging in her chair's twin, the latest book he'd been reading taking the place of the paperwork he'd usually be working on at this hour.
She watched him as he read, his finger tracing lazy circles around the rim of the glass of port he'd poured himself. She took a sip from her own. Her eyes traveled up from his hand to his face. His brow was knit together in concentration. She watched his eyes quietly scan each page, the orange hues of the fire dancing in the contrast of piercing blue. Her eyes continued their descent. Maybe it was the glow of the firelight, or maybe she'd just never looked closely enough, but his nose and cheeks were dusted with the subtlest hint of freckles, not unlike her own. She smiled softly, her eyes falling to his lips. They were full and pink, and were turning up into a sly smile.
"Do I have something on my face?" Phillip muttered. Her eyes snapped up to meet his, which were casting a sidelong glance in her direction, his lips now turned up into a full smirk. Heat flooded her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," She said, her eyes darting away, the glowing embers of the fireplace now seemingly the most interesting thing in the room. "I wasn't meaning to stare," She added, stealing a glance at him. An amused smile danced across his lips, causing her to blush further.
"Tell me about yourself," He said, shifting the conversation abruptly.
"What?" She furrowed her brow.
"Tell me about yourself," He repeated. Closing his book and sitting his glass on the side table between their chairs, he turned to face her.
"What about me?"
"Well I don't know much about you," He said, leaning towards her against the arm of his chair. "Except that you've read the same book over a dozen times," He added with a smirk. "And that you play piano."
"What do you want to know?" She asked, closing the book that had been splayed across her lap.
"Everything."
"Alright," She gave a breathy laugh. Stealing herself with a sip of port, she tried to think of where to begin. "I grew up in a village outside of Lyon, France," She began, deciding to start from the beginning. "I'm the second oldest of four ... I have a younger sister and brother," She paused, deciding not to bring her older brother, Anton, back up. "My father was a banker, and my mom - well, she was a mother. She stayed home with me, and my brothers and sister until we were old enough to go to school."
"Where did you go to school?"
"I rode the bus into the city each day," She explained. "There was a primary school there. That's where me and my brother and sister went. My youngest brother wasn't old enough to go to school ... I had plans to attend university in Paris if I would've graduated ... that is before - well, before," She added, taking another sip from her glass.
