I sat in the office of the police station, my head in my hands, fighting back the determined tears that wanted to run down my cheeks for so many reasons; partly I missed home, partly I was worried about Lukas, and part of me missed Friedrich.. God, it's been such a long time since I've seen him.. But I was here for Lukas. That's what mattered right this second because Friedrich's fine at home, he can cope with things. But I couldn't help but think about how everything became this way. It's so different and messed up compared to before.

A rattle of bars lifted my head up to see a police officer walking out from the corridor of cells and back to his desk, closely being followed by a shamed, tired looking Lukas. Standing up, I froze. I didn't know what to say or what to do. My whole body went stiff and like before, I felt my blood turn to ice in my veins. Would he yell at me? Or run to me and sweep me off my feet? At that thought, a group of butterflies emerged in my stomach and began flying around like crazy. Lukas stopped in the middle of the room and pushed his arms through his long leather jacket sleeves, flipping up his collar and then looked up.

"Kirsten? What are you doing here?" He said with a shocked and confused tone;his expression saying the same. I smiled a little, shrugging my shoulders in a "what can I say?" way and before my mouth could run away with a load of words and speeches my brain hadn't filtered yet, the police officer interrupted.

"Should be nice to her you know. She got you out a few days early. You better keep an eye on this one ma'am." He winked to me before going back to his paperwork. I giggled a little before looking back to Lukas, his expression even more confused.

"How?" He said simply.

"Well.. That would be telling, wouldn't it?" I gave a little smirk, and to my surprise, he chuckled. It started off little and then grew, the sound making me feel like I was home again and the happiness in his eyes was beautiful. He walked up to me and pulled me into his arms, resting his head on the top of mine. My cheek pressed against his warm chest and the sound of his heart beat steadily.

"How I've missed you, m'dear." He whispered, and just like that, the tears began falling, faster and faster until I let out a sob. "Hey, hey, none of that on this top, it's expensive." He grinned, holding me by my shoulders, bending down slightly and tilting his head so that his face was in my view. I choked out a small laugh, wiping the tears away.

"So, are you going to tell me why you're in here?" I raised my brow to him after clearing my throat.

"Hm... Perhaps. First, I need a smoke." Once again, he did his lopsided grin, brushing his hand through his hair before resting his arm over my shoulders and walking out of the building, ignoring my eye roll.

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He leant back against a wall, resting one of his feet against it so that his knee was parallel to the ground, and pulled out a cigarette from a packet which he had just bought from a corner shop. Lighting it up, he took a couple of puffs before leaning back his head and blowing out the smoke. I scowled as I watched the grey cloud disperse into the air, I hated that he smoked, but my opinion wasn't about to change his whole lifestyle.

"That feels better. Wanna try?" He smirked over to me, offering out his cigarette that he held between two fingers.

"You know if you give that to me, it's going straight on the floor, right?"

"No need to be so rude young lady!" He put his hand on his heart, his eyes and mouth wide with mock horror. I gave him a light shove on his shoulder.

"So, why were you in a cell?" I asked, tilting my head. He sighed.

"I was an idiot."

"You're not that already?" He gave me a small smile before carrying on.

"When I got over here, I met up with some old friends of the family. They were in this gang who have strong views over pretty much everything, and well, before I knew it, I was absorbed in them and I joined this riot. I sort of threw a make-shift explosive." He winced slightly as he recalled the memory. His face took on a serious look which was new to me; he was always the joking around type, never into deep serious conversations. Hearing his words, I wanted to scream at him and punch him for being so stupid and naive and, as he said, an idiot, but looking at his face, I knew that I couldn't. He had beaten himself up enough already; he needed someone to be on his side.

"What is your family going to say?" The thought suddenly cropped up in my mind. And a second later I regretted it because it got me thinking about my own mother. I was in a mess.

"I don't know." He sighed again, taking another puff of his cigarette and then tapping the end of it, watching as tiny pieces of ash fell to the floor. "Probably the whole 'I told you so' speech."

"I'll be there with you."

"Why thank you Miss Stein, but I am barely in need of hand holding, I am a big boy now." He said in childlike voice. There he was; the Lukas I knew was back. The sarcastic, know-it-all, too cool for anything, Lukas was back.

"If you're sure," I said, pinching his cheek between my two fingers. "However, little old me has no place to stay... The least you can do is to give your knight in shining armour a place to stay for the night."

"Knight in shining armour? And I suppose I'm the damsel in distress now?" He motioned his hands as if stroking a long ballroom dress before performing a curtsy.

"Why, of course."

"Sweep me off my feet then!"Lukas threw up his arms in an elaborate display and began leaning his body in my direction as if he were going to fall into my arms. Like I could carry him.

"Get lost." I laughed, moving aside and letting him stumble to catch himself from falling over, giving me a frown to which I simply laughed more. I hadn't felt this good in a while. I hadn't felt the pure intoxication of laughter which was like a hallucinogenic to your brain, clouding everything and making you believe everything was okay. And so, as Lukas and I began walking back to his family's flat, I pretended everything was normal. For now.

But one thought still managed to slip into my brain, hiding in the nooks and crannies, keeping a tenacious grip on the nerves and unwilling to get lost. One little thought. Or rather, one name.

Friedrich Eisenberg.