The White Rosebush

Chapter 11: Memories

Chapter 11: Memories

My door slammed open with a thunderous roar that could have rivaled the endless bombs raging their deadly war hundreds of feet above me. I had certainly become more accustomed to loud sounds since moving underground. I didn't even want to see what could have possibly be left of London after the first week; the bombs were constant. However, hearing  something so close and so loud during such events as a bombing was enough to spook me out of my slumber. The next thing I was aware of was my head throbbing painfully and some familiar laughter. Alfred!

"Listen to me," I began to rage as I stood up. To my surprise, I was on the side of the  bed opposite to the door. "You obnoxious, ignorant, uncouth, mannerless, miserable excuse for a human being-"

"Well now, I know I'm not very popular, but really!" I felt my heart skip a beat. I hadn't been looking at the doorway; I was focused on picking up the table I had hit my head off of when I fell out of bed. The voice was not Alfred's. I looked up nervously to see not the American, but Ivan standing in my doorway, looking a bit offended. If he was indeed offended, it was nothing compared to the awkward embarrassment I felt.

"I'm sorry," I muttered lamely. Stupid!

"Any other compliment you would like to grace me with while we are being honest with each other?" He smiled.

"I thought you were Alfred."

"That didn't answer my question." I didn't really know what to say to him. I sure as hell didn’t mean to call him such nasty names, but he didn't seem overly upset by it. Then again, he didn 't seem happy either; just emotionless, as usual. "Apparently," he continued,  "you've been having problems with him?"

"No."

"You don't lie convincingly. And I don't like blatant liars." I frowned. I didn't want Alfred to get in trouble, especially after I had witnessed the display of punishment on Deshi. As annoying as he was, he was also my only friend right now and, admittedly, he had started to grow on me.

"I'm not really lying," I muttered. "It's just not worth getting angry about."

"Da, if you say so." He grinned. "Anyway, I don't like talking. Foolish noises are pointless and I prefer observing."

"Right..." Where exactly was he going with this? He rolled his eyes in annoyance, but it was quickly replaced by his trademark smile. It was the first time I had seen him display emotion besides either extreme happiness or minor worry.  So he does have feelings... At least he must be human in that case. I grinned at my own thoughts.

"Is something amusing to you?" He was smiling gently, his blue eyes lit up with some eager happiness who's origins were known only by himself. I felt goosebumps, but, somehow, they were different than the ones I normally got around him. I just couldn't place how.

"No..." I shook myself out of my strange daydream. "With all due respect, why are you here? Do you want me for something?"

"Nyet, I just thought I would pop in unexpectedly to admire your bedhead and see if you're as pretty fresh from sleep than you are on formal occasions. I was correct in assuming as much." I stared at him for several seconds, but his face remained unreadable.

"You know," I blurted out without thinking, "if you're going to say stuff like that, it would be nice if you could at least give me a hint to what is going on in your mind!" He smiled.

"My dear, you will never understand what goes on in my mind. Emotions are a weakness. They give your foes insight into your mind. I quietly despise people from a distance and plot their downfall. It's safer that way, you see." Was he threatening someone?

"You have foes? But you're no older than I am..." He laughed.

"I am tired of speaking. Good day to you." I blinked, and he was gone. I groaned audibly and threw myself down on the bed. Even spending five minutes with Ivan was enough to make me mentally exhausted. He was truly a one-of-a-kind freak. But I couldn’t shake that feeling I got while speaking to him… It was so foreign, like nothing I’d ever felt before. I stared at the empty doorway for a few minutes in a daze, when suddenly it was occupied by someone else. Not Ivan or even Alfred, but a tall blonde man I’d never seen before.

“Hello,” I smiled in a friendly way. He grunted in acknowledgement.

“You’re Amy?” He sounded English.

“Yes. Who are you?”

“Another fool that is making unnecessary risks for you just because Ivan seems to have taken a liking to you,” he snapped with bitter resentment in his voice.

“Don’t blame me for that,” I huffed indignantly. He growled. Damn that Russian!

“I hate you. I want nothing to do with you. Unfortunately, I have no choice because I can‘t venture above ground, so I‘m stuck in this hole at Ivan‘s whim.” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“That’s good you don’t like me, because I’m not particularly fond of you either.”

“Then the feeling’s mutual.” Despise my annoyance, I was curious.

“What is it Ivan’s making you do that’s so bad?” He sneered.

 “He didn’t even tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“I joined Ivan’s little dictatorship to escape the British government, but unfortunately for me, Ivan’s decided that I’m going to be the loser that allows himself to be captured to help smuggle your little boyfriend out of prison.” I blinked.

“You’re German?” He let out a bark of cruel, sarcastic laughter.

“My great-grandfather was German. I am English. I’ve never even been to Germany, to be frank.” I felt a surge of pity for this man. He was just like Andreas; a victim of the war’s persecution.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes I do. But I want to get this straight right now that I’m not doing it for you. Your friend can rot for all I care.”

“That’s a bit hypocritical, coming from his fellow.”  He glared at me.