Rome, Italy [The wee hours of Tuesday morning]
Triela woke with a start. Not for any particular reason. There hadn't been any sudden noises, or movement, or... anything. She glanced out the window to see the fuzzy glow of the city's lights. It was just before false-dawn, she guessed. Dark and still and quiet.
Much like the dark-haired man in the chair by her bed who, of course, she had noticed. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" she asked her handler softly since it was obvious he wasn't.
"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged.
"Afraid I'll leave without checking in with you?" It was a weak little attempt at a joke, but it was an attempt.
Hilshire didn't laugh. He just shook his head. "You've never needed to check in with me." An expression that was almost a smile settled onto his lips. "It's been one of the most frustrating and one of the most impressive things about working with you." He snorted softly. "You were always too good for me."
Triela shook her head weakly and reached her hand out. Hilshire stared at a moment before reaching out his own to take it. "You were a good partner," he added softly. "A great partner."
"You, too," Triela responded softly.
They sat there in silence for Triela wasn't sure how long. She may even have drifted into semi-consciousness for a bit there, it was hard to tell. But Hilshire still had her hand in his when she finally turned her attention back over to him.
"Thank you, Hilshire."
His hand twitched slightly around hers and he shook his head in objection. He started to open his mouth, but Triela spoke again.
"No regrets, Hilshire," she told him. She'd been aiming for firm, but her voice was soft. Almost breathy. "No regrets. You did your best for me. I won't forget that. So don't you forget either."
"Promise me..." her voice faded out on the last word as she slipped back into sleep.
Hilshire sat there, watching the first rays of sunlight appear outside the window, holding Triela's hand until he felt it go limp.
"Auf Wiedersehen, meine kleine Prinzessin," he whispered thickly, gently squeezing her hand one last time.
Goodbye, my little princess.
[NFI, NFB, warning for death]
Much like the dark-haired man in the chair by her bed who, of course, she had noticed. "Shouldn't you be asleep?" she asked her handler softly since it was obvious he wasn't.
"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged.
"Afraid I'll leave without checking in with you?" It was a weak little attempt at a joke, but it was an attempt.
Hilshire didn't laugh. He just shook his head. "You've never needed to check in with me." An expression that was almost a smile settled onto his lips. "It's been one of the most frustrating and one of the most impressive things about working with you." He snorted softly. "You were always too good for me."
Triela shook her head weakly and reached her hand out. Hilshire stared at a moment before reaching out his own to take it. "You were a good partner," he added softly. "A great partner."
"You, too," Triela responded softly.
They sat there in silence for Triela wasn't sure how long. She may even have drifted into semi-consciousness for a bit there, it was hard to tell. But Hilshire still had her hand in his when she finally turned her attention back over to him.
"Thank you, Hilshire."
His hand twitched slightly around hers and he shook his head in objection. He started to open his mouth, but Triela spoke again.
"No regrets, Hilshire," she told him. She'd been aiming for firm, but her voice was soft. Almost breathy. "No regrets. You did your best for me. I won't forget that. So don't you forget either."
"Promise me..." her voice faded out on the last word as she slipped back into sleep.
Hilshire sat there, watching the first rays of sunlight appear outside the window, holding Triela's hand until he felt it go limp.
"Auf Wiedersehen, meine kleine Prinzessin," he whispered thickly, gently squeezing her hand one last time.
Goodbye, my little princess.
[NFI, NFB, warning for death]