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It's been almost a week since the snow finally has melted. A river not so far from their camp is not so icy anymore. The water is pretty clean and beautiful. Barry loved to walk around this river, daydreaming and thinking of the bright future. So romantic, isn't it? Barry maybe spent all his free time in this exact spot: under an adorable small tree of viburnum with these red berries, next to the chill water. It was such a relief for the British ranker after that work. Barry watched how the sweet, tiny berries fall into the water, the wind is carrying them.
The cold air is hitting his smooth face violently. He only enjoys it. Barry loved nature. Whenever he is not in the camp then he is definitely here. Barry's life was calm, even the cannibals never worried him so much.
He never had any problem with his teammates, no. Never ever in his life. He was friends with almost everyone, even the Prussians he had to work with currently. How good it is when you know some Prussian and they know English as well! Yet, Barry could hear them talking about him when he passed by. It was usually something neutral. Even friendly, good impressions. The Brit couldn't help but smile every time.
But he also heard one certain conversation on the other day. When the British men where in the camp, Barry was sitting next to campfire, warming up his red due the cold hands. Some older men who seemed to be discussing every single soldier, started speaking about Barry. And Barry wouldn't be Barry if he ignored it and didn't eavesdrop on it.
"...He is okay. Yeah. Good kid, maybe even too excited about everythin'..." The accent of this man would probably be in ginger's head forever. "He never wrote a letter, you know? I've never seen him writing to someone. Guess, he is lonely." The officer took his time before continuing. "No wonder why. He isn't that handsome. This smooth face isn't helping him with it"
And that was it. Well, if you actually think about it, the man is right! Hella right, because Barry never was 'popular' with girls before army. He always thought he is alright. Thought his face is okay, even handsome. Well, if his superior says so, then it's definitely true...
Barry was around the camp after a long day. Since he had awesome relations with everybody else, Barry decided to chat. Well, what can he do about it? Absolutely nothing, he is so talkative. So currently, he was speaking with a young British musician and Prussian sapper. Their conversation in English was so funny. Barry rambling about his recent trip to Berlin. He participated in the trip, making sure the Duke is safe and nothing threatens him.
His London accent was very iconic, almost everyone remembered the way he speaks. Barry liked speaking about his trips. Matthias, who Barry just called Matt, the sapper, was nodding, clearly interested if Barry liked Berlin.
"Das ist where i was born, actually!" Matt said, when Barry finished. Barry's green eyes sparkled with interest.
"Really? How was it?" The musician, name's Oliver, asked Matt.
"Pretty decent, i must admit." The Prussian spoke in poetic way, just as it was told in those books that were like 'englisches lehrbuch'. "I had a gut life there. I had nice friends also."
"Maybe even a lady?" Oliver joked.
Matthias looked away and chuckled.
"Well, yes, a lady as well." As if he was even slightly embarrassed by how it sounded.
"Ooo!" Oliver cooed. Barry just smiled at their interaction. "Ladies never payed attention to me, to be fair. What about you, Barry?"
Barry's smirk softly disappeared as Matt asked more.
"You look like a proper gentleman!"
Barry looked down sheepishly and nervously began to explain
"Uh... In fact..." Barry's green eyes darted to his mates. Their faces are all excited... "Well... Nobody ever payed much attention to me. So... No lady."
Barry could see the small disappointment in their eyes. He felt guilty.
"I don't believe you!" Oliver exclaimed. "Ah... On the other hand, well..."
On the other hand?! What the hell does he mean 'on the other hand'? Was he that bad? Barry always thought he was okay. No??? Poor British ranker just watched Oliver explaining his point, clearly worried.
"Uh... I'm not surprised you don't have a spouse. Since, uhm, you know. You aren't so special in looks and... Kind of silly, you know." Oliver tried to speak kindly and without blaming on him. It didn't help. Prussian sapper only nodded.
It looked so awkward and sounded like a pure nonsense. Barry's mother always told him that his face is good. Well...
Their conversation continued. They spoke about experiences, but the ginger guy was silent, since he could say nothing. Turns out, Matthias had bunch of relationships. Oliver had only one, but nothing else. Barry? Barry had none, at all. Never in his life. He was a proper gentleman, his face is pretty cute and handsome (according to his mother's opinion) he was pretty talented and kindhearted. Yet no girl ever wanted to be with him. No matter how many times he asked a lady out—the answer was 'no' or they just didn't come to the place every time.
Barry thought, 'Maybe it is my problem? It's just not the girls around, it's me. But hey, what is exactly wrong? The way i act? The way i speak? Maybe my appearance? Is the posture not straight enough or it's the face?' Billions of questions filled his head in one moment. Barry couldn't understand the problem. Should he try again???
When the conversation ended—when Matthias' officer told him to go to their camp—Barry went to his tent himself. And damn it, the officer... the Brit had no idea what was his name or his personality, but he was painfully cute to him. Like– not in that fag way!!! He is just... decent. That's all.
Even when taking of his red uniform, Barry was worried about what was wrong with him. Not that his personal life was what worries him the most, but he wanted to know if something was wrong. Barry thought if he should ask for an advice. Well, that Prussian officer was pretty handsome, just as the others. Maybe even more than the others. Well, maybe in Barry's mirror he will find the answer?
Barry grabbed the mirror and just stared into his soul. Green kind, big, nice eyes. Smooth features, not so sharp jawline, cheeks. Button-nose, which was pretty usual for his Irish family. He was soft. There was nothing special in Barry. In his 20's Barry looked too young. Like he is 15 years old. Well, maybe that's his problem? He looks too sensitive and young? Comparing to Matthias, Barry looked really soft: Matt has straight, sharp nose, his face is pretty thin, hawk-like brown eyes. Opposite of Barry! Well, what about Oliver? Oliver's hair is always short, which looked pretty good on this light-brown color. Oliver also had not so manly-man handsome features, but still less soft than Barry's. His eyes were blue, calm. He didn't look the best in front of those two people!!!
But who looked the best is that one Prussian officer who took Matthias back to their camp. His jawline is sharp, eyes are brown and strict, not so big, but without the forced squint. Hair is black, he probably had kind of long, somewhat slicked back hair. He was just perfect! Man, if only Barry looked like this... This officer definitely has a wife.
Staring into his own soul through this small mirror—which he mostly used for shaving every morning—Barry decided to talk with that officer. Probably he could help the poor Brit? Nod. Barry laid to his made up bunk and stared into the ceiling. The Prussian officer never left his mind. Holy, why him...? Barry felt the heat on his face. No, no, no—! No way he is blushing over some officer!
Next morning, Barry woke up by his officer's voice. Sounded like 'get up' or something. In like five minutes, Barry sat up. He rubbed his face, then his hand ran into his hair, ruffling it. Brit sighed and stretched. New morning. According to his officer's words, it might be a dangerous day. Cannibals and the french is extremely violent today. Are the frogs really that dumb to keep fighting during this apocalypse? They give them no room to rest. However, Barry stood up and started to get ready for the day. Dressing up properly, fixing his hair, shaving, washing his face, etc...
Barry left his tent to see whats going on. British soldiers having breakfast. Oh no, did he get late again-?! Barry quickly approached the officer who has woken him up. Thomas. Thomas looked at Barry calmly.
"Hey! Hello, officer. Uh... I- I suppose it's breakfast already, yeah?" Barry started the conversation.
"Yes, as you can tell." Thomas nodded.
Barry let out a soft quick sigh that was probably supposed to be a chuckle. Barry grabbed his plate and started eating. Well, average food. Nothing special about it. It tastes well; not terrible, but ain't perfect at the same time. Barry always enjoyed something simple, maybe that's why he is like that. Once he finished, Barry made sure he has free time yet. He had like five minutes. Man, Thomas really counted his time, huh. Ginger one searched for Matthias through the Prussian part of the camp, hoping to ask him about the officer he has. Barry finally bumped into the familiar man. Oh, Matthias!
The Brit smiled and waved.
"Hello! Uhm-" Barry got interrupted with a german greeting. "Guten tag!! Hallooo" Matthias was pretty friendly to Barry. The Brit nodded and continued his speech "Hi- So, uh. I wanted to ask you. Who's that officer that brought you back to camp from yesterday?" He tilted a bit closer to the Prussian Matthias looked around and then turned back to him with a smile. "Oh, thats Moritz Karl! He is very strict and cold, honestly." The thick Prussian accent leading the sentence. Well, it was a deal-breaker for Barry. "I see! Could you please call him here? Or at least tell him I would like to speak." He asked. His mate responded with a nod. Barry smiled and looked back. Thomas just moved his gaze from Barry to he woods. As if he is slick, huh! That's obvious he was watching! Not that he has something against it. However, Barry gifted Matthias a pat on the right shoulder and walked away, also waving before fully turning back. In the middle of his way, he stopped and approached Matthias again. How silly he had to be to forget about one important thing?
"I mean- Like, tell him i would like to speak with him. Soon. As soon as possible. I'm- I'm just going to be busy right now." The ginger one explained sheepishly. Matthias nodded again. How great it is how have such an understanding friend!
Barry finally could go back to his camp.
Evening, finally he is free from all the duties. Barry looked around the camp. No one really cared much about Barry. The sky is already bright yellow. Not so long ago, he lost the small clock his mother gifted him. He was so sad about this, but now it's not a big deal. Just very hard to control the time. Barry decided to find the Prussian officer. What was his name, again? Karl? He guessed yeah. Brit walked to the Prussian camp to find his mate. He believed Matthias told Karl about Barry's suggestion, so now they both had to wait.
Finally, Barry has found his friend. He softly tapped his shoulder and waved in a friendly manner.
"Oi, Hello, Matthias. What's with your officer?" His tone was a little impatient. He has almost forgotten about how dumb his face probably looked.
"He is fine, ja. I'll go and tell him you would like to meet up!" Matthias responded. A ghost of smirk appeared on dry lips of the Prussian.
Barry nodded. Next, he watched Matthias walk away, searching for Moritz-Karl. After some moment, that felt so much longer than a minute, Barry saw familiar face. Sharp features, calm, narrow eyes, back is straighter than an arrow. He was awesome! And Matthias walked a little faster than his officer. Once they both walked up, Barry couldn't help but blush at the sight of this awesome man. He looked away. Why the hell he, a gentleman, feels like this to another man?!
Karl nodded, letting the British ranker speak up.
"Uhm... So, sire, I wanted to speak with you. By ourselves. Is this all right?" Barry finally got brave enough to looks up at the Prussian officer.
Another nod.
"Ja- Yes, sir." Even his voice was amazing! Holy, how could he be that perfect? However, Karl looked too calm. It's impossible to read any of his thoughts. He looked at him like a hawk, but never meant to be aggressive or rude. He is just strict, as Matthias has told him.
"Then, err... Follow me, sire! Thank you a lot, Matt!" Barry waved to his friend and walked away.
He walked to the river. Often, he looked back to see if Karl was following him. He was, indeed. Karl was only like a meter or even less close to Barry. Officer Moritz-Karl was handsome. And probably nice as well. He looked like someone strict, but generous. Matthias never told Barry much about him, he only complained or told something funny. Barry was curious. If they will have enough time, Barry will ask Karl if he mind about being friends. Barry liked him. He could feel how his cheeks and ears warmed up. Man, that's quite embarrassing. To be that obsessed with a bloke like him...
When they arrived to the nice part of river, cold air greeted them first. Barry inhaled it and walked further, approaching the tree. The ground felt a little wet, in theory, if Barry will touch the ground, his hand will be wet. And dirty. Karl silently followed him. When they both ended up under a tree of viburnum. He watched red berries fall into the ice-cold water. Beautiful. Barry finally looked at the officer. It was so scary. He has never been that afraid of speaking with another soldier. Usually, Barry was pretty open and friendly, he has never ever struggled with communication. What was happening now?
"So..." He finally squeezed out and coughed to clear the throat. "Um. Yeah. This may sound foolish and ridiculous, but i would really like to know."
Karl looked at him carefully. His eyes softened a little and became a tiny bit wider. It was a great sign, probably! The Prussian looked kind now. With a sigh, Barry finally asked the question.
"Do you have any advice for me in appearance? I mean... Recently, we were discussing with my mates something and they told me I'm not handsome." Thick London accent chased him, even if he looked Irish. "I would like to know, if you have any tips... My appearance may not be the best."
Karl just stared at him. Is he for real? Thinking about this in battlefield? Well... Karl hummed. His dark brown eyes learned the poor Brit. The face, the posture, the body language... After something that felt like an eternity, Karl responded.
"Not handsome, they say? You... You don't look bad at all. I mean it. I... I have no tips for you, uh..." Barry was not sure if his mate wanted to call him by his name, so he decided to be silent and nod. This was awkward. Karl cleared his throat.
"You think so, sire?"
"Ja. Well... Why are you focused on this?" Karl asked and tilted his head.
Barry looked away. Whole conversation was damn embarrassing and now this!!!
"Uh... Well... Well I've never had a lady, sooo..." He admitted sheepishly. "I thought this is my face."
Prussian officer looked at him so softly, still saving this tense in the shoulders. He looked, like he had a soft spot for him, Barry was oblivious about this.
"I have no idea what is wrong with your face. It's completely fine. Even nice. Why do you need beauty for anyways? Your soul is kind. I've seen you before, sir. Not even sure what your name is, but you are kind and generous. This is what matters the most." Thick Prussian accent was all around his speech. It was adorable for him. Barry listened to him. Karl is just too kind, probably. Why all of sudden?
"I am Barry." He acknowledged. "Are you sure I'm good?"
Something in his chest twisted when he saw Karl nodding at the question. Barry blushed again. Dammit.
Well, their gazes were occupied by the red berries in the river. River was beautiful, cold, calm. Something was nice. At least something. Barry liked to see his reflection, but now? It was kind of awkward. Well. Karl watched calmly. Shoulders softened a little. Barry looked around and hummed.
"Thank you- Uh. Would-..." The Brit cut himself off in the middle of the sentence. He looked down and coughed. "Sorry, nothing."
Barry walked away. How dumb of you.
Week later.
The cannibals has attacked their camp. Both Prussians and English were defending their camp from all the zombies they could find. Barry was busy with killing a regular cannibal. All of them were gross and stinky, the sounds, their groans that were matching with men's dying screams and calls. His ginger hair was stuck to his forehead due the sweat and some blood. They all were rotting. How disgusting. Once he finished the rotting man, he ran away to grab some bandages. His hand was bleeding. It was absolutely terrible for someone, who mainly uses a sabre. Barry bumped into some soldiers and finally got to a box with bandages. Quickly making a silly, messy knot—clearly wrong, odd from what his mate has taught him—Barry looked around. His green eyes caught some Prussians and one Britishman fighting with cannibals. A runner was near them. Barry grabbed his sabre with the injured hand and helped his mates.
Busy with exchanging some quick "thank-you"-words, a runner cannibal attacked Barry. Huge wave of anxiety washed over poor ranker. He hit the cannibal with his fists, trying to get him off. He was scared, of course, but not a coward. He is very brave man, after all. Barry didn't want to cry out for help, he hoped he will handle it. The runner already tried to bite his skin. Sudden shooting was heard. Barry almost flinched due to the suddenness of the sound. He kicked the dead corpse away and sat up. A rough hand appeared in front of the green eyes of Barry's. They looked up and took a second to recognize the face.
Karl?
Barry quickly declined an offer and stood up by himself. Barry's face lighted up. Karl? Helped him?
"Thank you, sir!" He smiled and friendly slapped his shoulder, before grabbing his sabre.
Karl was left out with a soft look. His eyes became sharper, the neck is tensed more once he followed the Brit to help his team. Exchanging a friendly look, Karl walked in the opposite direction. Barry thought: 'Did he feel the same about me? The same as I feel about him?' Barry ran to his soldiers. Quickly grabbing a musket and loading it, Barry shot a bomber. With every shot, every yell and cry, the danger disappeared. Once all the cannibals were defeated, Barry walked to Karl. At least he tried to find him. Karl was talking to his Marshall.
Marshall explained something for him, it seemed, then he walked away, patting his shoulder before. Karl nodded and looked around. Once he saw Barry, his eyes softened a bit. Barry walked up to him and greeted.
"Hello, officer! You okay after that attack?" Barry spoke softer and calmer than yesterday.
Karl nodded and a ghost of smirk appeared.
"Yeah, danke." Karl hummed. His tall figure moved to the box on which was a kettle and a cup standing. He grabbed the kettle and filled the cup with hot tea. Barry stared at it, as if it was magic. A tea? Wow! Karl sipped it and looked around. He couldn't help but notice the look on Barry's face. "Would you like a cup, good sir?"
"I don't mind."
As a gentleman, he never admitted fully in his wishes. Barry just waited patiently for Karl to grab another cup from his backpack. It looked... Hell of an odd to the Brit. Brits liked tea, enjoyed it, but not that much. Karl poured some tea in the cup and left it out for his new friend. Barry sipped it. The taste was slightly bitter, yet very nice. He could feel some berries, even fruits, but not very much. Barry enjoyed it. He nodded.
"I like it! We could have a tea party like that, you know." Barry joked.
"We could." Karl admitted and looked at Barry. Dead serious.