BUBBLE

8 - whatever you wish

There were many stories that had come to unfold that day, Agnetha reflected, sitting before the bonfire and watching sparks flying from the snaps in the wood. Between trolls and myths, exciting moments of the day, or anecdotes shared, it had all left her with a good vibe. Her smile was never so far away. All that she heard was nothing more than a moment shared, but there was just one of these stories that lingered again in the elder woman's mind whether she wanted it or not. Of course it would be the one story Björn had told her about his separation.

In some ways, she still couldn't believe it. She hadn't been the same since she heard from Görel. It added on seeing him and sharing with him what she has had to. And of course, how could she let what words he had told her disappear like they hadn't been admitted? It was so close to everything she wanted to hear from him. Simply everything, all in the wrong timing.

The soft voice of the gentleman sharing known folk tales faded out while she observed the older man before her. He had a black beanie on to keep him warm, the hood of his winter coat on top, and gloves that covered his hands resting above his knees. Her observation of him was interrupted when he caught her eyes. She moved them back to the speaker, pretending she hadn't been watching him back and forth for the past five minutes.

And he just as much as her was lost in his own thoughts. He was swept up with the mystery of how it could be that the world could move someone into different directions in life only to still bring them back to the very same person. He looked at her and understood that she was the one constant, the one who he didn't necessarily have to chase. They never chased after one another and were often content even in their years apart. Agnetha was beside him and he was always beside her. Year after year, they knew where to find each other, not more than a phone call away. Of course there was heartbreak, and certainly there was deep yearning, but however separate they may have been throughout the course of their lives, somehow they'd found there was only so much they could do and still not be totally separate. What a fool he was, he thought, missing so many years not telling her he'd actually made a mistake. And perhaps she had, too. They both had been aware they'd made mistakes, but even apologizing for their mistake, they never exactly said what they were sorry for. They may have apologized for the way they treated one another in the darkest of times, but now reflecting, each had kept to themselves the greatest mistake was thinking what they had was gone.

Agnetha had taken another glance at him, feeling his eyes were away at last. It was as if she finally could breathe knowing he was no longer looking at her the way he was. Turning the skewer in her hand that was used to roast sausage and looking up, she found out that he was rather struggling now, opening the small bag and piercing the meat to roast one too. It was entertaining until it stressed her.

"Björn," she called quietly for his attention. Her eyes gently rolled with a smirk and she offered the one she was holding. "I'll have consumed two by the time you start on your first."

"It won't go through," he chuckled, explaining his strain. She didn't need another thought, so she moved to the place open just beside him and sat again, both of them cozily wrapped in their snow gear beside the fire, in darkness and in the light of the fire that appeared as a warm glow. The storytelling went on for the rest of the crowd listening in, and faded out for them. They instead became wrapped up in their own distractions.

"Just take this," she said. "Give me that." Her hands reached and she had made him trade him the skewers so he had the one ready to be eaten and she took the one he put on.

"Eat," she urged him, knowing he didn't want to eat hers, though she couldn't care less. More efficiently, she had placed two more tiny sausages along and she began to roast them over the fire. Agnetha had a smile watching him take a bite. It was hot and steam was rising from it in the cold air. She laughed at him as she'd witnessed him bite with his mouth open from the heat of it.