BUBBLE

9 - you already know

Agnetha discovered herself with the final conclusion that she was always destined to be in battle in some sort of way. Not always was it a negative battle she faced, however, but even in the simplest of decision making, it felt like a wrestle. She realized, oftentimes, she had brought it all upon herself. There couldn't be an in-between. And so she wants something, but why is it she runs in the other direction? And if she should decide something for herself, why is it difficult to follow through with it? Might be the idea of heart versus mind, she thought to herself, analyzing her method of thinking meanwhile peacefully stirring the white wine in her hand. Agnetha abruptly stopped, giving herself the judgment. If she tells everyone she knows to follow their heart, then why is it she always does the opposite instead?

Seated in the center of the room, she shut off her iPad and huffed. Network in the glass igloo was poorly stable. Newsfeeds wouldn't refresh and if they did videos would not play, apps asked to 'Retry again later' and Netflix would buffer for at least five minutes. She didn't attempt at YouTube, she was already over it. As the device was set down, Agnetha caught sight of the white box in front of her. Right. The only board game would be this one. She flipped the box over so she didn't have to see the cover, avoiding it to every measure. The rattling that came from the box was so distinct and obvious that she froze, fearing he'd wonder what made her reach for it.

The next ten minutes consisted of Björn sitting in bed, comfy and propped up with his MacBook over his lap. He was typing away and wrapped in the sudden inspiration that had come to him. Agnetha was too silent, he couldn't guess what she was doing in the next room behind the bed that divided the igloo, but subconsciously, he wondered. What was she up to? He could hear small clattering sounds, and then nothing more than subtle movements. The woman who'd poured herself another glass of wine stared at the box now, standing arms folded and five feet away. How stupid that it stressed her, and it stressed her more that Björn was in the same room and none of them had breathed a word to one another since they settled back in, nearly forty minutes ago.

The silence wasn't to live a minute more. She was positive now and she wished to every single star and planet above her head in the glass bubble that she wouldn't regret the decision she made. She would do it, however. Whatever it took to change the atmosphere in the room that might possibly bore her to sleep.

The side she usually sleeps on was invaded by a white box, creating a cluttering sound that Björn heard a few minutes ago and now it made noise again, interrupting his thought process. He forgot what he was typing all of a sudden, noticing her looking down at him with white wine in her hand and the game of Chess at his side. His brows shot up in a moment and he hadn't known anything else other than that it was the last thing he predicted she would present him with.

"I hope that you didn't take a sleeping pill. I'm irritably bored. The lights haven't begun and we've been waiting for 2 hours now. Wi-Fi isn't working. I don't know how you're getting yours to work."

"I'm not on Wi-Fi. And not on a sleeping pill either," he laughed. He looked at her half smiling and entirely doubting how serious she was. "You honestly want to play? Right now?"

"Björn, it's the only chance I am going to give you," she said confidently, raising her glass to drink. She had put it aside and folded her arms as she leaned against a ledge. "Well?" He didn't need another invitation. Whatever sentence he was writing would never be completed that night, for in just one moment, his hand brought down the screen and closed the laptop.

"I am all yours," he said gently.

"There's a condition." Björn turned the corner of his smile upward.

"As I predicted."

"I'm changing the rules."

"Of course you are," he laughed, getting out of bed thinking they'd sit at the two chairs and tiny table they had sat at earlier that morning. However as he put his MacBook aside, he noticed her dumping the contents out on the bed which was perfectly made until Björn left it, and she moved the board towards the center. She was sitting, setting up each piece black on his side, white on hers. His heart melted a bit when he noticed she checked back of the box to make sure she was placing all the major and minor pieces in the correct places. He turned back and crawled onto the bed, laying on his side and helping her sort his side of the board. "I take it that the game is no longer either of us losing a piece of clothing when we lose a major piece?"