The bus drops them at the corner of Lokastigur and Baldursgata and before either of them has had a second to get their bearings, the driver has them out of their seats and their bags are being pulled from the back of the trunk.
"Your tickets," he says.
Ezra feels both his back pockets then the pockets of his jacket in search of the green tickets they were given at the airport. He gives the driver a quick smile before glancing at Aria, silently passing along his panic. It's been a long time since he's traveled this far. He pulls out a wad of paper from his left pocket, and thankfully, there they are, stuffed between a few used tissues and gum wrappers.
"Thank you," Ezra says as he passes off the tickets. The driver nods and turns back toward the door and the driver's seat, leaving Ezra and Aria alone on the street with their bags.
"Well," Aria says as they watch the bus drive away, "here we are. Is it everything you remembered?"
"Better," Ezra says, looking down to the woman beside him. They look at each other for a moment, each of them taking in the fact that they've finally made it when a cold gust of wind wraps its way around them. Aria shivers and shoves her hands deep into the pockets of her fleece.
"I forgot how cold it is in Reykjavik," she says with a laugh. "It's not even winter yet."
Ezra smiles but a certain look passes across his face, causing his brow to crease. He glances down at his wrist, checking the time. "So it's nine in the morning here, and...I might have fucked us over."
Aria pinches her brow together as another bluster of wind blows between them.
"We can't get in the house until two."
"Wait, we can't get in until two?" Aria says in disbelief. "What are we going to do for five hours?"
"I didn't think about the fact that we wouldn't be in a hotel...with a lobby...or a restaurant...or any place to sit and wait until check in."
Suddenly the cold air seems to have dropped a few degrees. There are a few people walking with purpose ahead of them, surely off to a warm office and a full day of work, and all Aria can do is sense the weight and awkwardness of the suitcase by her side.
Ezra pulls her into his arms and reassures her that as long as they're together, they're fine. He mentions a small cafe he remembers enjoying around the corner, and soon the two of them are off down the road, suitcases rolling along behind them. Before long, they're standing outside C Is For Cookie and Aria is overcome with a wave of nostalgia.
"Ezra," she breathes. He looks down at her, but she's in a complete trance, a whisper of a smile at the corner of her lips. "Ella and I used to come here all the time," she says. "I had completely forgotten it existed."
Something about the possibility that their paths could have crossed so many years ago and in a country not their own has both of their stomachs in a tangled knot of butterflies. It's like they're meeting for the first time all over again.
They open the door and walk into the warmth, dragging all their belongings along behind them. A quiet woman with long dark hair smiles from behind the counter and they each nod a hello before making their way to a few comfortable looking chairs in the corner. Eventually Ezra orders them each a coffee and they split the most delicious, most decadent brownie either of them have ever tasted.
The whole of Reykjavik seems to pass through the door as Aria and Ezra wait for their home away from home to be ready. As they watch and listen to snippets of conversation, it's all they can do to keep from falling asleep in their chairs, and it's absolutely perfect.
