My blue eyes looked up once more at the man sitting with the newspaper held near his face, his slick black hair was perfectly in place, those deep brown eyes examining the paper as if it were the most important thing in the world. I lifted my coffee to my lips and continued staring at the Nazi man in the uniform who came to Café Monet everyday at this time.
I had lived in France for the past few months since my father was moving with the army though here. I was born and raised in Germany until the war started. Honestly I didn't know anything about the war at all, they didn't tell us much around here. But I did know that they were doing it for us, the good clean people of the world. By getting rid of those dirty people, the army was helping us all.
He must have felt my stare because for the first time in the past week that I had been watching him, his eyes looked up from his paper, over to my direction. They lingered over my legs which were covered in thin black tights and drifted up to my gray skirt reaching up past my waist which had a loose tan shirt tucked into it. His eyes paused at my chest before finally reaching my eyes. I placed my coffee back on the table and picked up my book, giving my wavy dirty blonde hair a fluff for effect before picking up at the page where I had left off.
He was practically a God.
The uniform gave him this extreme sex appeal which most of the French boys around here lacked. He had this powerful aura to him which just made me want to have his arm around my waist, and then he would make sure that nobody ever bothered me.
When I looked back up his eyes were back to his newspaper, as if the exchange never even happened. I heard myself sigh out loud, which was rather obvious in the dead silence of the café where there were only us and another old couple in the other room. He glanced up again at me and I felt my face flush. This time I didn't look away and nor did he.
"Excuse me miss?" someone said beside me, making me jump a little.
"Yes?" I asked, looking over at a man with scraggily clothes on. He reeked of urine and garbage, his skin was so rubbed with dirt that it seemed like he would never be clean again no matter how hard he scrubbed.
He looked around, I noticed that the Nazi man put up his paper again so you couldn't see his face.
"I need a place to stay Miss, please. The Nazi army, they're after me." He begged, grabbing onto my arm with the dirtiest fingers I had ever seen.
I grimaced and shook off his arm, "Get your hands off of me. Do you know who I am?"
This caught the Nazi man's attention.
"Miss if you don't help me," he began to get angry and I slammed my book down, standing up next to the man.
"What Sir? What exactly will happen if I don't?"
"I will make you," he grabbed my arm again. "Where do you live? You need to take me there now."
I whipped his arm off and when he went to grab me again I swung a fist, cracking it across his jaw bone. I had learned to fight a few years ago from my father who was now fighting in the war. All of a sudden the Nazi man stood up and whipped out a gun, shooting several times before the man beside me fell to the ground with a waterfall of bullets. I let the breath escape my mouth which I had been holding in since the whole ordeal had started.
The bloody body lay limp over my feet and I kicked him off, grimacing. The man walked over to me and I stared up at him like a scared child, not because of the shooting, but because this was the closest I had ever been to him before.
"Are you alright?" he asked and I opened my mouth to answer, nothing coming out.
He smiled slightly and held out his hand, "Please, allow me to take you out of here. I don't think you should see this filthy body."
I shook my head, "Alright. But it's fine. I've seen Jewish shootings before."
He seemed impressed, "You're a German? You have the accent."
"Yes, my father is Colonel Bayer. I travel around with him wherever the army goes, so I see this a lot."
He eyed me for a moment seeming satisfied, "I would love nothing more than for you to join me for breakfast this morning, if that isn't too much to ask."
"I would like that very much Mister…"
"Please, call me Dieter," he took my hand and kissed the top of it before we walked out of the café that was now crawling with Gestapo. "And what is your name Miss Bayer?"
"Emilie," I smiled slightly up at him, admiring his perfect features which were staring out into the practically abandoned streets.
"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl," he slyly added, touching my hip as we crossed the street.
"Thank you Dieter. So is it safe to make the assumption that you're also traveling with the army?"
"That is a very safe assumption," he nodded. "Here, this place right here."
I glanced up at the petite little café before us which obviously was one hundred percent German occupied.
We found an empty seat easily and the waitress brought over two teas quickly, obviously twitchy in Dieter's presence. He just seemed to radiate something threatening. And I loved it.
"Now, if this isn't too personal a question, why is a young woman traveling with the German army rather than staying home?" he stared, I was never one who was able to hold an intense stare, so I looked away quickly.
"I don't have anybody but my father. And he feels safer with me with him."
That was a lie.
"Safer? In the middle of a war with him?"
"Well, he knows where I am at all times when I'm with him."
"Hm," he stared a little more. I knew that he wouldn't keep pestering me because he had figured it out. He was a higher rank than the silly little boys who just sign up for war and end up dying in battle on their first day. He knew what he was doing.
He knew that I was a spy for the German army.
He smirked and I did too.
"I'm glad we're on the same level," I said and he laughed. "If you know what I am saying."
"Oh, I do."
"But my father really is Colonel Bayer," I touched the ends of my hair, his eyes followed.
He nodded, "There ha-
He was cut off by a gun shot from the street outside, we both stood up at the same time to go see what was happening outside.
He put an arm in front of me, "I'm sorry but this is a man's job Miss Emilie."
Man's job my ass, I glared as he walked out.