The room was a small, quiet refuge on the base, tucked away from the chaos of the war outside. The room was dimly lit, with soft light filtering through drawn blinds, casting long shadows on the faded, neutral-colored walls.

A pair of well-worn armchairs were positioned in the center of the room. Inside, the room remained a strange, fragile oasis — where the weight of unspoken words lingered in the air, both heavy and unnoticed.

It's known that wars are impactful. Not just on the civilians but the soldiers too. And world war for the second time came with twice as much destruction. He wanted to turn a blind eye to it, after all he was climbing through the ranks as a soldier — But Levi Cross couldn't do it.

He's seen death too many times. Comrades dying at the hands of enemy fire. The nightmares had gotten more intense. The chance of returning home slimmer. And the war would just drag on, to the point where he forgot if he was fighting for his country, or his own life.

He knew that just because he was fighting on the side of "the allies," that didn't make his side the heroes. He saw how now in the base of this foreign country higher ranking officials were taking women from their homes and putting them in a "program," when it was just an excuse to beat and abuse "enemy women."

Molded into companions and confidants, that was their solution to the depression in the troops, and apparently you were Levi's. At first all he felt was indifference for you — you could barely speak his language for crying out loud. So indifference remained until he realized that you weren't to be shunned. You were to be protected — and that's how he found his new reason to live.

"Extra rations," he muttered as he tossed a food can in your direction before plopping down on an armchair and lighting a cigarette. He's gotten soft, not just to your beauty. But to you in general, once he realized that you were in this together indeed. Two different worlds colliding, albeit with you — Time slows into a comforting cradle.