Tʜᴇ Pᴀᴛʜ Tᴏ Hɪɢʜɢᴀᴛᴇs

I Wᴀs Oɴʟʏ Tᴇᴍᴘᴏʀᴀʀʏ

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 59

"I got zis for you."

You turned from the plate of food set out before you, locking eyes with the Russian. Though you diverted them quickly, onto something looped between his fingers. "I stole it from German Empire's garden." He chuckled to himself, holding it out further for you to take.

It was a singular, pink rose.

Sharp thorns descended down its green stem— a small pointed leaf holding onto its body, folds of taffy petals curling around themselves, opening wide unto the centre.

You took it from his fingers, bumbling out a rushed thank you as you twirled it around and around. Its aroma sweet and earthly, vibrancy dancing at your fingertips, reflecting in your eyes.

Soviet smiled, covering it as if he was wiping his nose, turning away again. 

"Sooo." He began, picking up his cutlery and messing with his dinner, "How vas your day?"

You placed the rose down, copying his actions.

For the first time in a while, you felt as though you weren't lying when you smiled and answered. "Good actually, it was really good."

It felt lovely knowing tomorrow, everything could go back to the way it was before. You didn't have to worry about ghosts or arguments— feeling out of place nor worried of what might happen now. A weight was off your shoulders, at least a little.

Things were returning to normality, as it so seemed.

You hated to admit it, but knowing that German Empire knew you weren't supposed to be here was comforting. It made you feel a little more at home. Someone knew your most treasured secret, and it felt good knowing it was a shared weight. Maybe, if he asked again, you would tell him more. You were tired of lying to people— there had to be more to this life than running in circles.

"Did Reich ansver zat important zing you vanted him to?" Soviet asked, drawing you away from your food and back towards him. "He did." You nodded subconsciously.

It was strange in a way— that Reich had been so pressed about it when you asked first, yet now, you felt as if it had brought you closer to him. The fall of a brick wall that divided the two of you in a forgotten passage of time. You knew now, at least partially, and that made you feel light— your chest relinquished of some kind of burden. You could imagine he felt the same.

"Good," Soviet responded shoving more of his dinner into his mouth, wiping his lips politely.

"What did you do?" You asked, copying his motions as you did, eyes endless drifting towards the rose he gave you. As if you were trying to convince yourself he invited you for dinner in a friendly way— rather than anything more. Friends give each other roses, don't they?

"Stayed vith Salem in my room." He answered, breathing out abruptly in an airy snort— finding humour in something. "Did you know she kan play fetch?"

You lowered your cutlery and smiled, meeting his wide eyes with a glow. "Really?" You asked.

You knew that cat was intelligent.

From the moment you found her she seemed to understand things at a greater degree. As if she saw and comprehended semblances greater than you could. An eye that saw further, carved into the gyrus folds of her little feline mind. A foresight she utilised in a way you just couldn't comprehend.

"Yeah, she is smart kat." Soviet unknowingly agreed, thinking back at how she had paced around his room. A scrunched-up piece of paper between her canines, a startling look of clarity in her gaze as she dropped it and awaited him to throw it again. "Where did you get her?"