Stockings

"Can I help you?" Werner asked as he walked into the kitchen. Marie shook her head.

"It's fine, I can do this on my own."

"I want to help." He said. "I'll clear the stuff off the table, you can tell me where to put them afterwards, alright?" He said. Marie just nodded. Werner headed off to clear the table. Everytime he came back into the kitchen carrying a plate or a platter Marie's heart fluttered. He wasn't just helping her, he'd known what to do. This was the kind of man she'd like to marry. But she forced herself to focus on the dishes she was scrubbing and not let herself get too distracted by the young man. 

Marie was Christian. She'd had boyfriends, none of her relatioships had been very long but that was more circumstance than the relationships being foul. Her first lover, a communist, had been arrested in 1937 on unknown charges and by the time he'd gotten out of prison she'd moved on. She'd thought him too be dead afterall. The second man she'd loved was a soldier, but he'd died in war, just four months after they met. Even though she'd had the two and shared a few kisses with each she'd still never done the act. When she was a little girl she'd learned that sex was for after marraige, and that was something she planned to keep that way. But at the same time...what if something came between Werner and her? What if he was arrester, or killed? Or what if she never heard from him again? Did she have to wait for him, and if, how long? 

Werner announced that he'd taken in the last of the plates. "What can I do now, Marie?" 

"You can dry the dishes I've washed." She said, throwing a towel at it. He caught it and got to work. "So you've sobered up?" She asked after a second. 

"Oh yes, I had a little bit too much wine."

"I think it was the vodka." 

"Maybe." He said with a chuckle. "Both were good."

"I agree." She handed him another plate. "I'm sorry about my brother."

"Oh don't be. He was a decent man."

"In some ways." She added with a sigh. 

"Don't be too hard on him. It's not easy on the front, or in the camps." 

"He could be polite though. You are." 

Werner just shrugged. He gave her a sideways glance. He felt so comftorable around her that flirting was easy. It had been the same with his first girlfriend, they'd just hit it off. "White suits you." He said with a smile. It did; it fit her pale skin and brought out the gold in her blonde hair. 

"Thank you." 

"You're very beautiful Marie." He reminded himself of Nikolai; always flirting. He didn't let go the next time she handed him a plate; it was the dish the chicken had been served on. They both held on, staring into each others eyes. Werner started to the left and then to the right, as if he was a kid chasing his friend around a table. Marie laughed and pushed the plate into his chest. He stepped backwards. She let go and he majestically wiped the towel over it. He was still laughing and so was she. 

"I know that I'm beautiful, otherwise I would have never caught your eye." He laughed at her cheeky answer.

"You would have anyway...there's a way about you." His answer made her blush. "Anyway, I think I'll leave early tomorrow, it's going to be around five o'clock in the morning."

"I'll bring you to the train station."

"Oh you don't have to."

"I want to, Killy." 

"If you insist." He shot her a glance. "Where should I sleep tonight?"

"I'll show you later." His question had made her a bit bashfull. It had forced her to imagine him in her room, a thought she wasn't scared of but shied from. 

"Thank you, and thanks again for the dinner it was delicious." 

"I'm glad." She handed him the last plate. He dried it as she wiped the water of the edges of the sink. Werner had left the big plates he wasn't sure where to put on the counter. Marie proceded to tell him which platter went where. In five minutes they were done with the kitchen. "Thanks for helping me, Killian."

"T'was my pleasure." 

"Let's go out to Opa Hans?" 

"Don't we want to stay in the kitchen a bit longer, Marie?" He asked quietly. He took her hands in his. They were rough and wrinkled from the water. He gently stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. "Don't you want to kiss me, darling?" 

"I...I..." She stuttered. But after a second of hesitation and holding out, she fiinally gave in. He leaned down and she piped up onto her tippy-toes. His face was too close, his eyes too bright - and his lips were on hers. 

She looked down in embarrassment. What would he think of her? That she was a girl too fall in love in an instant and put out fast? He tilted her chin up and smiled at her. And she saw the love in his eyes, flirting with her like flames in a raging fire. He pulled her closer and she closed her eyes, awating his kiss. Werner was already falling for her. He kissed her the second time, making her wrap her arms around his neck, feeling her heartbeat through his shirt and her blouse. "Ach Marie." He sighed softly. "Du bist was anderes.(you're something else)" 

"Küss mich nochmals, Killian. (kiss me again, Killian)." 

He did, and this time he allowed his hand to slip behind her apron and up her skirt, he ran his hand up her thigh, the thin black stocking seperated his fingers from her skin, but she could still feel his touch. She pushed him away. "Killian!" She said, slapping his hand away. He laughed and booped her on the nose. 

"Entschuldigung, Süsse. Du bist unwiderstehlich. (you're irresistable)." He murmured. 

"Then pull yourself together Killian, you won't get more of it." She strutted past him and hung up her apron by the door. She'd regained control of herself, but her lips still tingled from his touch. He was a good kisser. She looked over her shoulder, he still stood there, leand against the sink, staring at her with lovey-dovey eyes. She lifted her skirt up a bit, quickly showing him the top if her stockings before dropping the skirt again. Her flirt worked; it got him to follow. The two headed out to Hans, with whom Werner would share another evening cigar.