Two: Forelsket
Forelsket (Norwegian): The euphoria you experience when you're first falling in love.
She was sleeping. She coughed and opened her eyes-to smoke. He was blowing his cigarette in front of her face.
"Damn you!" she yelled as she pushed him off. When she successfully did, she began wafting off the smoke and opening her windows.
He laughed as he threw he cigarette down on her bedroom floor and stepped on it. "I just wanted to see you open the windows yourself."
After that day, she made sure she wouldn't see him. She avoided him. More accurately, she avoided everyone. She didn't get out of her apartment. It's been almost a week. It was true she didn't open her windows. She didn't clean, didn't do anything. Just lie there. She felt numb, she felt like she's an empty shell.
"Fuck you too," she mumbled as she sat back down the bed. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm a dragon," he was grinning. She hated that. She hated how he grinned. Because his grins meant trouble. For him or for the person he was grinning at, or even for the both of them—it didn't matter. It was trouble.
She looked away. "So?"
"Where would I be without my tamer?"
The blonde glared at him, "Fuck off."
She didn't even know how it happened—he was fast: he suddenly had her pinned to the nearby wall, face dangerously close to hers. She opened her mouth to utter a protest, but he already spoke before she could.
"When you tame something, you're responsible for it. You'll always be responsible for it," he said. "Remember that."
And then he was kissing her, or she was kissing him—she really didn't know anymore.
It was breathtaking and harsh and soft and nice—a mixture of different things. He smelled and tasted of smoke and fire and him.
And she hated it. She hated how much she liked she pushed him away roughly. And when she did and she looked at him, all she could see was the surprise and the hurt suddenly visible on his eyes and she realized why he was doing this. It was too quick, too fast, all because he's scared she'd leave him too. And she almost did, to be honest. She almost did.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, almost crying. "I'm sorry."
And he was kissing her again but this time gentler and slower while whispering apologies right back at her.
"I love you," she said in between kisses. "I love you. I'm sorry."
"I know."
And for now, that's enough.
