Escape

Chapter 1

Cephas was quickly dragged into his shared dressing room, by his companion, Petya. Quickly he shut the door behind the two of them, before moving over and rapidly stuffing belongings into large bags. "Petya! What the hell?!" The brunette shouted, storming over to the taller man with fury in his eyes, "I have to be on stage for the next scene in a few moments, why the hell did you-", "Dushka..." The silver-haired man gulped as he continued to pack, hands fidgeting nervously as he looked around, his crystal blue eyes as wide as saucers. "Your life is more important.", "My life? What do you mean?" He interjected, both of the man's brows raising "There were Nazis in the audience, dear..." The stronger man was taken aback, how could something as menial as Nazis being around scare the Russian so much? "There are Nazis everywhere, how should that affect me?"

Those words caused the thin man to stop moving in a whole, his thin hands with dainty fingers gripping onto the shoulder length grey wig that adorned his head, a form fitting black dress clung to his body, one foot inside a small heeled shoe. His eyes seemed to grow impossibly wider. "You don't know?" Escaped between the cross dressing man's plump cherry red painted lips, as he slowly stepped closer to the shorter man. Cephas was slightly older, his light tan skin highlighting all of his attractive features, from his square jawline, to the chocolate brown stubble that ran across it. His dark forest green eyes, his slicked back hair and his thick eyebrows, in which the right one contained a scar he had received from a bar fight.

Petya on the other hand, had skin as pale as Ivory, which contrasted to the deep red lipstick that casually adorned his lips, piercing blue eyes constantly filled with kindness hovered over sharp cheekbones and a long jaw. His oval face fitted perfectly with his lanky, thin body. The brunette always admired his loving personality, and smiled whenever his magical laugh, the one he could listen to for days on end, slipped through his lips. He was a caring person, never abandoning the other. He admired the soft skin, gentle to the touch, that covered his dainty hands and feminine fingers, or the parts that covered his symmetrical collar bones. Every part of that man was a work of art, inside and out.

He was brought back to reality at the sudden fear in the Russian's eyes. "What, I don't know what? What don't I know?" Petya stared back at him, stepping close to him and gently placing his hands onto his shoulders, taking in a shaky breath before he began to speak. "The Fuhrer...he wants to capture people...people like you..." He gulped, "Jewish people across Europe...they're being taken away...a-and..." He took in another breath, possibly to avoid crying, "A-and they're not coming back...Dushka...w-we have to go, they can't take you, please, they can't." His thin hands moved to cup the tan man's face, sadness pouring out of his eyes as a few stray tears rolled down his thin face.

Cephas pulled away, shaking his head with a chuckle. "I've heard you say many strange things before, but that has to be the most ridiculous one..."- "No no please! Y-you have to believe me...D-dushka p-p-please..." More droplets cascaded down his face, hands now clutching a small black handkerchief he kept close. Cephas slowly turned around, lips slightly turning to a frown as realization hit him, the other man rarely lied, and if he were to ever, it wouldn't be about something like this. "Petya...if it's true...where is Abha, my sister, where is she...?" He asked in a worried tone, stepping back over to the crying man and gently wiping the tears off his face with his own cloth.

"D-Diana has t-taken her, they've t-traveled away from the country. S-she told me of what happened in a letter, along with who would help us get to where they are going. I-I" he bit down on his lip and let out a sigh, "I wanted you to have one last performance before I had to tell you...I'm sorry..." half lidded eyes gazed back at him with comfort and yet, guilt as he relayed him the information. Cephas quickly dashed to the door, grabbing both large bags and setting them down, "What am I supposed to wear so no one will see?" He asked, knowing Petya not only dressed as a woman for comfort, but to also use as a disguise. The silver fox quickly rushed over to his old station, grabbing and giving the other man a large trench coat that would go to his ankles, as well as a slightly floppy hat that would cover the upper half of his face.

Quickly, he put both items of clothing on, as Petya slipped on a black fur coat, now slipping both of his shoes and grabbing a small purse to sling over his shoulder. The two silently walked out, hand in hand as they kept their heads low, not even being noticed by others as they walked down a long hallway. Petya's grip on the other man's hand tightened as he caught a curvy woman staring at them. Her name was Alise, she knew the Russian man quite well for the short amount of time she began working at the theater. The pair seemed to walk faster as she began to head towards them. "Petya! Where on earth are you going?!" She caught up to them, putting a hand on the tall man's arm as she looked at him with a confused expression plastered to her face.

"Alise...we have to leave...A few soldiers are in the audience, there probably looking for Cephas..."-"Well at least let me go with you, wouldn't it help to have a German with you? You don't understand a pinch of it..." The pale man sighed, mumbling "der'mo..." under his breath. "Pack up your things...meet us at the small cafe two blocks down from here and then we'll head to the train station..." The short curvy blonde replied with a nod, quickly running off and allowing for the pair to exit the building swiftly.

Key:

Dushka (душка) Ducky; a term of endearment.

Der'mo(дерьмо) Shit; profanity (Obviously XD)

A/N: Hope you enjoy, I already love writing about these two, This will definitely continue soon.