Kristjan taps out a steady rhythm. Ba-dum, ba-dum. It is so loud outside, the people screaming and the wind howling and the Christmas bells ringing, that it blends together to create something like silence.
His mind is not silent. His fingers continue tapping on the arm of the park bench, tapping along with the beat of the pulse he feels thumping in his neck. Tell me that my answer is right, he thinks, biting his lip to keep from crying. The choice had been his, to come back to their secret place like they'd promised all those years ago.
Kristjan remembered sitting here with Lukas once in their viking days as they both bled out, wishing they could die. Dozens of meetings took place by this little cavern. Hundreds of years after their first discovery of the place, he'd promised he'd return right here and that Lukas would be his again, and no empire-Swedish, Prussian, Danish-would be able to stop him from spending Christmas with his beloved.
The snow filtered down from the sky hesitantly, as if it was also unsure of Kristjan's decision. A twinge of jealousy shot through the Dane as he looked out at the children playing merrily in this place that had once been his special spot. A boy yelped when a girl-his little sister, from the looks of it-pulled him back from destroying her snow sculpture. The scene of his most beloved piece of nature, now a park filled with families on the frozen pond and Christmas lights and shops on the outskirts, filled him with the most bittersweet feeling imaginable.
All was well now, but some darker part of him wished for whatever horrible scenario would bring Lukas back.
1999 was it, the last chance, the final Christmas Eve he would wait around for Lukas to make the same decision. At some point over the years, Kristjan figured there were better things to do with his time. Charities needed volunteers, neighborhood kids needed his signature gingerbread cookies, and there were better ways to spend Christmas Eve than waiting on someone who had told him again and again he would never feel the same.
He couldn't wait forever, as much as he wanted to.
Kristjan glanced at his watch. He needed to be back in time to let his dog out into the backyard and to turn on the pretty lights he'd spent so long decorating his house with. It was nearing three hours he'd been sitting here, and Lukas wouldn't dare be out much later than this.
A snowflake landed on his watch. He watched it melt, feeling something between resignation and slight irritation. He'd never be mad at Lukas, not anymore, but that didn't make this kind of thing hurt any less.
"He said you might be here," muttered a voice behind Kristjan. The Dane turned around anyway, though he immediately placed the voice as Emil's.
A warmth broke out in Kristjan's chest. For a moment, his waiting and worrying seemed irrelevant and unimportant. He hadn't gotten to see the boy he'd raised, his Emil, on Christmas for years now.
Kristjan was no perfect brother or guardian, but he loved Emil with his whole heart, in the purest way that he imagined only a caretaker could. Seeing him safe, alone, and knowing Emil had travelled a significant distance to visit him both broke his heart and mended it.
"I'm going to spend a few days at your house," continued Emil, despite Kristjan not turning around to face him. "For Christmas and all. Lukas is busy, so he asked me to come babysit you."
Lukas had not come, no, but he'd sent a gift.
"I'm so glad to hear that," Kristjan finally managed. He felt himself begin to tap on the park bench again, felt the warmth spread up to his face and fight off the chilly air. Nobody knew him better than Lukas, nobody in the entire world. "Do you think you're too old for the cartoons now?"
Emil scoffed at the question. "Obviously not. Cartoons aren't for children."
Kristjan turned his head so he could meet Emil's eyes and flash him a grin he knew to be winning. "It's great to have you around this year."
The Icelander looked to his feet, to a tree, to the sky, and finally back at Kristjan. "Yeah. It's nice to be here."