Greenland, present day

Soft moss. Morning light. Frantic kisses.

In my dreams, I'm there. I'm them. Two lovers stuck on a frozen shore, desperate to feel something except hopelessness.

When I wake up, hope is instilled in my mind. Kisses at dawn blend together with kisses at twilight. I relive the sensation of Mikk's lips on mine. Cold stings my cheeks while heat radiates over my lips.

For the first time in forever, I look forward to what the day will bring. Because I know it will be spent with him.

After an awkward but sweet dinner with Mikk's parents the night before, where we both blushed every our eyes met, Mikk and I parted with a kiss by the door. I would have invited him to my room, but on account of me living in his parents' house, such a gesture didn't seem appropriate. Although I'm pretty sure his mom already knows what is going on since I heard her snickering in the hallway when Mikk and I said goodnight. I guess it's true that his mom always knows everything.

I'm already dressed and ready for the day when Mikk--who has promised to take me along for a whale safari tour--knocks on my door. He greets me with a soft kiss as soon as we lay eyes on each other through the gap. I melt into his embrace, letting my fingers slip through his hair as I pull him inside the room.

To have my whole being consumed by the longing to be with someone else is something I thought I would never experience again. I was fine with that, as such emotions are dangerous. It's easy to forget yourself in the fog of fascination with someone else. But right now, I don't care. I just want to revel in this intoxicating sensation for as long as possible.

We both know I'm leaving soon. No one will get hurt. This is just a fling. A way to get some frustration out of my systems, and lord knows I have a lot of that tempted up. Realizing the person you'd decided to spend the rest of your life with has betrayed you for years can do that to someone.

But it's another kind of frustration I feel when we tumble down on the bed. The mattress is soft as moss as we roll on the covers, not caring about a thing in the world except the tension building in our bodies.

We're just like them. Björn and Gudrun. The Viking couple, six hundred years gone, who lived and loved on these shores. Time changes a lot of things but not everything. The power of desire is as relentless and unstoppable as ever.

"Mikkel!" A voice suddenly calls from downstairs, interrupting our cuddling session, which honestly was starting to go beyond that. The words that follow the call are unfamiliar to my ears but the tone is not. I've heard that particular pitch so many times during my own upbringing. The man beside me is being chastised for something by his mother, despite being fully grown.

Mikk groans, rolling away from me on the bed. "I feel like a damn teenager again." He whisks away a stray strand of hair from my face--displaced by our vigorous activities--before hurling back a cascade of words in his own language toward the woman downstairs. His tone is annoyed but light.

"She says I'm going to be late for work," he explains when his mom finally quiets down. "And that we should close the door if we intend to stay in your room..."

I can't help but giggle. "I guess we should go downstairs," I say, even though I don't really want to. Finding his hand, I lift it to my lips for a peck. "Can't let you be late. And I am looking forward to his tour."

"Alright," Mikk replies reluctantly, sneaking in a kiss before he stands up. He reaches out a hand to pull me up with him.

"Is this proper attire for a whale safari?" I ask, looking down at my jeans, knitted sweater, and boots.

Mikk looks me up and down, looking at anything but my attire. "It'll be perfect," he assures me. "You may need a coat though."

"I have a coat." I point toward my purple down jacket by the door.

His nose crinkles in a way that is quite adorable. "That's a city coat," he replies. "It may look puffy but the wind will blow right through it. I may have an old jacket downstairs that you can borrow though."

With his hand wrapped around mine, we walk down the stairs to find that jacket and dodge questions from his mother.

***

Roly-poly seals lounge on the rocky shoreline as the boat passes by at a leisurely pace on its way toward distant waters. A few of them take heed after hearing the motor. Their smooth skin glistens in the morning sunlight as the waves take them away, while the rest of the flock appears like a pile of gray sausages on the cliffs.

Perhaps not the best analogy, as seal sausage may be a delicacy around here.

Encapsulated in a thick fire-engine red jacket that smells of him-- sea breeze and watercolors--I spend my morning peering out over deep blue waves, beneath which the creatures we hope to spot are lurking. As the boat ventures further from shore, I feel smaller and smaller. The heaven above and sea below may swallow me whole at any moment.

Mikk's voice tethers me to reality as he tells me and the other passengers about Greenland's wildlife.

But I feel even smaller once the whales appear. Mikk guides everyone's eyes to the port side of the boat, where a spout of water cascades from a blow-hole right before the huge grayish-blue body of a humpback whale becomes visible. It lurks close to the boat and I become scared that the animal will topple the vessel over.

"The boat's sturdy so don't worry. It'll hold." Mikk must be reading my mind as he speaks through the boat's audio system. I turn toward him, standing midship, and get a beaming smile in return. Even in the crowd of bustling tourists, he sees me.

As a kid, you read in textbooks about how big certain animals are, perhaps with a helpful graphic beside the text for comparison, but to actually see such a creature in real life is different. The whale is like a whole island, with its rounded back that's shiny like a rock. Water splashes upon me and the rest of the passengers when the animal breaches out of the water, flinging itself back into the waves like it's a fun game.

"They like to do that," Mikk explains to everyone. "Show-offs..."

I watch the whale, who is soon joined by a few friends, for what seems like hours, fascinated by their movements through the deep waters. The whole world is sky and water, where the only thing that matters is the movements on the blank surface. The buzz of the outside world is gone.

Who cares about spreadsheets, agile workflows, or task management when there is such beauty in the world? My world at home--which mainly consisted of Stefan and work, to be honest--seems so distant and unimportant. Why did I even worry so much about menial tasks? Why did I work so hard on making our relationship work?

A hand on my shoulder interrupts my trail of questions. Mikk strokes my hair away from my face, lightly touching my cheek. "Are you liking it?" he asks, crouching down beside my bench by the railing. All the tourists are busy gazing out over the sea, giving Mikk a few minutes for a break.

"I love it," I say with emphasis. I mean it. "Everything is so... real. It's perfect. I wish I didn't have to leave."

I regret the words as they fly out of my mouth, worrying that speaking them out loud will break the bubble of infatuation we've created. Leaving doesn't mesh with that bubble.

A wistful look flies over Mikk's face. He takes both my hands, cradling them under his giant grip. "Let's not think about that right now, Saga," he says. "Right now, we're here. It's all that matters."

I nod, nudging my head against his shoulder lightly. "You're right," I reply. "Right now, everything is perfect. That's what matters."

Hearing his name called by one of his colleagues, Mikkel stands up. But before he goes, a quick kiss is pressed against my cheek. "See you after the tour," he whispers before leaving me to once again admire the whales.

Perhaps I could stay here in Greenland, just for a little longer. To admire the... scenery. So much scenery left to see. Whales, seals, dark eyes, lush lips...

I follow Mikk with my eyes as he walks up to his colleague, a blonde man that appears to work in the boat's engine room. The man gives Mikk a knowing look as he approaches, nodding toward the bench where I sit. My ears go into high attention as I try to hear if he asks something about me.

"Really, Mikkel? Again?" the other man says, my brain working hard to translate the words from Danish. "You found yourself another tourist?"

Mikk just shrugs in reply, not denying the implication of the words.

The sea and the sky collapse upon me. The vastness turns into suffocating emptiness. The beauty of the scenery no longer seems impressive.

I'm just another tourist. I'm no one special. I'm one of many. I'm a goddamn fool. Just like with Stefan.

Author's Note: Time to mess things up for our couples... So is Mikk just a Greenlandic Casanova or did Saga actually mean something to him? (in his defense, the dating pool in Nuuk is probably really shallow!)

I was actually working on the chapter that will come after this most of the week before I realized that this chapter needed to go before it. This means the next chapter (which is a Björn chapter) is almost finished as well. And that one... well it's a doozy. Prepare yourselves!