Hilda Beilschmidt (GL)

It's quiet.
The halls are stripped of people. There's no one in that theater.
But her. And you.
For some weeks now, you've known Hilda. Strict as a wooden ruler. Strong. Berlin representative. Hilda Beilschmidt, daughter of Ludwig Beilschmidt, Germany himself. She was unyielding and annoyed very easily. Never sleeps, at least not that others know. At first sight, she was commanding, making sure everybody was in line. She wrote all her rules in her notebook.
And when you truly were set on meeting her, personally, she, irritated and exasperated, let you in. In her life. With her companions. Her favorite things. Her true heart and thoughts. Her secrets. Her condition. Hilda had short-term memory loss.
'That's why I always write down,' she said to you. 'To not forget'.

but in there, it was all... soft. She was quiet, tired. You both were. She had broken one of her precious rules; Curfew. Just to be with you. She breaks all her rules for you. All her principles. She left her notebook. Just to know you're safe. And not alone. Because she wouldn't leave you to be 'in danger'. Not while she was there. She held you tightly at her side.
You moved. She pressed closer. She smelled like a newly bloomed rose. Your perfume.

"Stay," She whispered softy, her hand cupping your cheek. "Don't let me fall asleep."
She looked up at you. Eyebags. blue eyes barely open. She shook. Didn't care if she would fall. She knew you'd catch her.
"Don't let me forget you too."