God, he really had offended him, judging by his expression and steely silence. Had his ignorance really insulted him so much? It was understandable he supposed, but then, when had he ever had the chance to learn about America. But then, this American seemed incredibly sensitive, every word he said seemed to be wrong somehow, he wondered if they were all like that. âIâm sorryâŠâ
He could have sighed with relief, when he seemed to open up again, treat Florian a little warmer. He hoped it would last. They were enemies perhaps, but that didnât mean he wanted to leave a bad impression.
âIn Berlin, we have a lot of lakes, and I go swimming in the summer,â he smiled and shrugged, âit is as good as the ocean, it even is a little like a beach. It is nice also.â He hummed and nodded to himself as he thought back. It seemed so long ago now, day trips and picnics by the water, the crystal clear blue of the streams in Bavaria. It was strange, how different things could be, how far away those images were. He wondered if heâd ever get back to Germany to enjoy such things again.
âYou must suffer from insects a lot,â That was an out of place thing to say, but Florian pushed on as if it wasnât strange, âyou must when you live in a warm place near water, yes?â He shook his head, as if an annoyed manner, âIt is one of the only bad things about warm weather, yes?â He smirked in order to hold back a grin, a chuckle even, âInsects and bites.â
He should really stop chatting so idly about nothing, this was no appropriate setting to be doing so. He wondered if the medic would perhaps get bored of him and send him away, regardless if he was healthy enough to do so or not. It didnât bother Florian too much either way.
âHave you visited Germany, Mister Eugene?â
The cloth that was once white was now stained RED with Florianâs blood, something of which, would never have been considered normal or sanitary by any standard before the war. But here, it was as clean as it was going to get & he supposed, even with a good wash or two, the cloth would always be stained pink-----a permanent reminder of the monstrosities of what could happen if the world wasnât careful.
âYou do, huh?â Â Brows perked at the question, hues of blue finding those of the other quickly as he opened up more about his past. It was a strange thing considering they were supposed to be enemies, sworn allegiance to kill one another if needed. & yet in this room, it was like all of that DISAPPEARED, like they were finally allowed to be the men they were before this entire thing started. The scary thing was, Gene wasnât sure how much of that guy was left.
âYeah, we gotâta lot of those down there. You think you get used to it, but you never really do.â Another smile was beginning to form across the medicâs lips now ; he hadnât really thought about it much since he got here, but there seemed to be far less bugs than he was used to. & as hands ring the cloth out over the porcelain bowl, he smirked before continuing, âa lotta bites.â
He moved the cloth back to the table for the FINALÂ swipe, wiping away any reminder of their meeting. But he couldnât help his hands from moving a little slower, not wanting it to end. For however long theyâd been in this room, it had only seemed like minutes, even though he was sure it had been longer. The medic CRAVED decent conversation, an escape, & thatâs what this was providing him----regardless of who it was with.
âNo, I havenât. Not yet.â