Here you go! :D


Never know how much I love you,
Never know how much I care.
When you put your arms around me,
I get a fever that's so hard to bear.


"You better come back to me, Hugo," I warned, watching as he packed his bag hastily.

He glanced up at me, his blue eyes piercing me. My body, which was already sated from our rushed lovemaking earlier, began to heat up. I sat up and the sheets covering my naked chest, pooled at my waist, baring them to the morning light and my husband's watchful gaze. Hugo smirked, which did not go unnoticed from my eyes.

"Come here," I beckoned with my finger.

He shoved his bag to the floor and crawled across the bed to me; his hands gripped the sheets covering my legs and yanked them off. Laughing in delight, I looped my arms around his neck. Hugo took advantage of my offered neck; I gasped as he feasted on my neck with vampiric gusto. His hand, warm and calloused, caressed its' way up to my knee, gripped it and hiked it over his hip. His uniform was rough against my inner thigh, as he rolled his hips against mine. I struggled for breath, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Mmm, Hugo," I whimpered, raised my hips to meet his.

Hugo nipped at my earlobe and chuckled darkly into my ear, sending pleasant shivers down my spine. This man could sneeze and I'd still get shivers. I began to tug insistently at his uniform, desperate for him. He stopped my tugging, pulling my hands above my head and pinned me there. The light spilling through the window made his eyes glow. I bucked against him, making mewling noises as I tried to free my hands. I just had to touch him. I watched as his pupils dilated with lust and his biceps bulge with restraint. My Hugo had a lot of control.

"When I'm through with you, it'll be months before you can wash the smell of me off of you!" Hugo growled before he pressed a bruising kiss to my lips. "You are mine!"

With that said, Hugo lost control. And, it was a long time before we could speak coherent sentences.

Hugo slumped against me, his head resting on my breasts as his arms encircled my waist. Panting softly, I stroked his hair, my mind wandering on what could happen in the next couple of months, weeks even. I wasn't prepared for him to leave, I knew that someday it would come, but I prayed that it never would. Now, in an hour he was to leave for Berlin. Hugo untangled our limbs and sat up, his eyes avoiding mine.

"Will you come back to me?" I asked, quietly. He didn't answer me.


I nodded to the little, old man outside his store, as I walked by on my way to the market. The streets were filled with Nazi soldiers; I couldn't help but look for Hugo, even though I knew he wasn't there. He was in Southern Germany. As I was selecting vegetables, the older women to the side were gossiping as they waved around their newspapers. I couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but I caught a few words. Thirteen Gestapo officers brutally murdered. I kept an ear open for anything else, as I placed the vegetables in my bag and that's when I heard it. Hugo Stiglitz. I snapped my head towards the ladies, my hands went limp and the carrots in my hand fell to the ground. What did Hugo have to do with the murders? Was he also a victim? I ignored the carrots and rushed over to them.

I grabbed one woman's arm. "Excuse me, Miss, what did you say about Hugo Stiglitz?"

She seemed taken aback. "You didn't hear? Hugo Stiglitz killed 13 Gestapo officers."

It felt like someone had punched me when she showed me the newspaper, which displayed Hugo's face. "Are they sure it was him?"

She glanced at her silent friends. "He confessed, dear."

Choking back a sob, I fell to my knees. The ladies gasped and huddled around me, asking me questions and rubbing my back, but I couldn't hear them. I was miles away. A soldier, who saw the commotion, came over to investigate. He grabbed my under my armpits and hoisted me up, shooting out questions. He finally was able to squeeze my address from me and escorted me home with me leaning heavily on him.


"Miss, you're not allowed to see him," the guard protested, a day after I had found out about Hugo and driven down to the prison.

I looked up at him with watery eyes. "You would deny a woman a goodbye to her husband."

He glanced quickly behind him, considering what I had said. The guard turned back and stepped outside, allowing me access into the building. I straightened my skirt and blouse and followed him to the cells, my heels clicking silently on the concrete. Though the lights were dim in the small room, they burned my eyes as they adjusted slowly. I blinked a few times before looking around. The room was small and dank. It smelled of wetness and mold causing me to wrinkle my nose in disgust. I wrapped my arms around my body, offering me some sort of security, as we walked to the farthest cell. I perked up, as I spotted Hugo's hunched form, his blond hair golden under the awful light. The guard slapped his book against the bars. "You have a visitor, Stiglitz."

Hugo looked up with a snarl on his face, but it disappeared when he spotted me behind the guard. I gave the guard a pointed look; he glanced between us before muttering that we had five minutes. I watched him leave and I could feel Hugo burning a hole in the back of my head. Sighing, I faced Hugo. "Hello, Hugo."

Keeping his eyes on me, he picked himself off the floor and crossed the small distance. "What are you doing here, Mina?"

I scoffed. "Did you really just ask me that, Hugo?"

He gripped the bars. "You shouldn't be here; it brings too much attention to you."

I stepped forward, my eyes questioning. "What are you talking about, Hugo? Of course, I should be here, you're my husband."

"You don't understand! I made it hard for them to trace back to you and with you coming here; you're practically asking them to take notice." Hugo growled, his knuckles turning white as he tighten his hold.

"Why does it matter if they know I'm your wife?" I inquired, stepping closer to the bars.

"Because you're an American," he hissed.

He reached out for me and pulled me close. It was awkward with the bars, but it still felt nice to be in his arms. I nuzzled my face into his neck, my lips brushing against his skin; I felt his hands tighten in my hair. I pulled back and cupped his face, rubbing my thumb across his stubbled jaw before kissing him. It started out gentle and sweet, a remembrance of the simple days before need won out. In the mustiness, our mouths melded in some bizarre fight for dominance: teeth clashing, scraping lips and pulling. My fingers gripped his short, blond hair harshly, as I pressed myself against the bars, desperate to get closer to the warm, hard body that I missed. In my lust filled mind, I hear the distinct sound of the guard making his way towards us. I pulled away, breath ragged. If it weren't for the situation, I would have smiled at his hair and how it was sticking up in tuffs.

"What can I do?" I asked, quietly, my intent was obvious.

"Nothing, Mina. Do nothing," he commanded me.

Standing on my tippy toes, I kissed the dent in his chin. "You forget that I don't listen very well. I love you, Hugo."

Smirking, I turned and walked away. "Mina!"


Once I was back in my car, I gripped the steering wheel, trying frantically to calm my racing heart and ragged breathing. Before the kiss, I didn't even think about trying to find a way to break him out, but after, I knew that couldn't live without him. I've been in love with him since I was fifteen and he was twenty five. I couldn't fend off the urge to scream, so I did. It sounded raw and animalistic, as I yanked at the steering wheel repeatedly, tears flowed down my face. Hugo Stiglitz would die at the hands of the Nazis.


Okay, I hope you realized that the italics in the conversation was them speaking "German." I was really lazy and didn't feel like using a translator. Please, tell me what you think.