Chapter Text
It starts like this.
The asphalt outside Genya’s apartment slowly melting, every window opened as far as possible the sounds of children and barking dogs drifting in. Genya and Alina alone inside, around them a thousand brown boxes, bursting suitcases, cupboards and closets empty, waiting for professional hands to clean away the last remains of the girl that used to live there. Heads in separate directions on the bed, on the floor beneath, the last remains of the food delivered two hours ago. Stares at the ceiling, hands cradling her belly, way too full and regrets nothing.
“So, when do you think he is gonna ask you to marry him?”
“Shouldn’t you know that better than me?”
Alina smiles, doesn’t think about the ring hiding in David’s spice drawer in his kitchen.
(“You know most people choose the sock drawer, right?”
“Have you ever seen Genya cook? This is the safest place for it.”)
“I haven’t got a clue.”
“Right,” Genya groaning as she sits up, toes poking Alina’s thigh. “We should go somewhere before he asks me, a final trip while we’re both single and free.”
Cranes her head up to look over at Genya, raises her eyebrows.
“You haven’t been single in six years.”
A stray chopstick wrapper bouncing off her forehead.
“Semantics.”
Halfway forgets about it, a stray thought in the back of her mind occasionally, looking at flights and hotels and California vineyards. Writes down a couple reminders, sticky notes on her laptop background. Thinks spring, plenty of time, David having cliche ideas of a grand European tour and one knee in front of the Eiffel Tower. Surprised then when she opens her private email and finds links to snow and ice and darkness and all the things Alina detests.
Calls Genya in the midst of a paragraph about polar bears and gun requirements outside of the city borders.
“Why the fuck do you want to go to,” has to doublecheck the name. “Svalbard?’
“You got my email then?”
“I did. I’m also not going.”
The faint sounds of the radio and David cooking fading away, a door closing.
“Why not?”
“I can barely survive a New York winter, why would I go somewhere I might get eaten by bears on top of everything else?”
“The bears aren’t in the town and we won’t leave it without armed guides. You won’t get eaten by anything, promise.”
Has known Genya long enough to know that she needs a new angle.
“I don’t have proper clothes for this. You’ve seen my wardrobe, you know I don’t have snow pants.”
“Didn’t you go to Canada with that finance dude?”
“Do you mean Marcus? We went to see the Niagara Falls, spent most of the time fucking in the hotel room. Not the same thing.”
“Okay, fine, not the same thing. But that doesn’t mean you can’t come, it’s not like late December here is going to be all sunshine and roses.”
“But—”
“You can borrow almost everything from me, all you need is a good pair of boots.”
“I’m not sure I can take time off from work.”
“You’re self-employed and I know what you charge your clients, even the ones that don’t cause you stress. You can take time.”
Running out of plausible arguments, a straight out no somehow impossible.
“Genya, love, I was thinking somewhere warm.”
“We have the rest of our lives to go somewhere warm, I might even bring you on David and me’s honeymoon so I can oogle your ass on a beach somewhere. Who else do you know that’s gone there? It’ll be an adventure.”
“I don’t know Gen.”
“Come on, please,” can hear the pout through the phone, loud and manipulative. “I can’t deal with another Christmas in New York, answering people with Happy Hanukkah stopped being fun ten years ago.”
“Hate to break it to you but I think they celebrate Christmas in Norway.”
“They do, but I am positive they are less obnoxious about it than here. No fucking Rockettes at Svalbard that’s for sure. And I’ll have something to look forward to to get me through November and December.”
Doesn’t want to go. Wants to spend her Christmas the way she normally does; one phone call to her parents and then lovely lovely days of speaking to no one and sleeping for as many hours as possible.
“Fine. But when I get frostbite and lose three toes I’m sending the bill to you.”
Alina lets Genya handle everything. Lets the people who need to know know when she’ll be gone. Upgrades her travel insurance and packs what she is ordered to, pays for the flights and hotels and excursions Genya says are a surprise. Takes an Uber out to Newark on the 18th, spent the weekend in a haze of trying to trick her body into existing in a different time zone.
The flight to Oslo uneventful, stretches out in business and sleeps through most of it. Lands in the morning, a little after eight when they land, still dark outside her window. Slowly starting to brighten as they pass through the airport, the ground covered in frost, can see piles of snow in the distance, plow trucks adding to them. A little groggy, disoriented as she waits in line for immigration, a family in front of her, a baby that can’t be more than three months strapped to the dad’s chest, dressed in a teddy bear outfit, two fuzzy ears that she has to force herself to look away from.
Collects their bags without speaking, grateful that Genya seems stuck in the same silence Alina finds herself in. Check back in for their next flight, pass security and learns that she gets to keep her shoes on here. Stop at a kiosk, get snacks and water and then straight to the gate, twenty minutes of waiting before they start to board. Passports checked again, gets the window seat, Genya curling up on her shoulder, napping again as soon as they are in the air.
Stares outside, mountains disappearing in favour of the ocean, soft music in her ears, declines the offer for coffee. Closes her eyes for a little bit, the weird state between sleeping and lucidness, slipping in and out, comes back to herself and blinks confused at the complete darkness outside the window. Her phones showing half past twelve, realises they must have passed the polar circle at some point, slipped north of the sun.
A rush of freezing air hits Alina the moment she steps off the plane, harsh glaring white lights showing off a desolate runway, a single ugly building she follows the few passengers in front of her into. Another passport check and then Genya is finally functioning again after her nap, lets Alina sit on a bench and glare at her shoes. Lets herself be led here and there, wheels stuck in snow and then a bus and then more snow and then finally a warm hotel room.
“Please tell me you don’t have anything planned for the rest of the day?”
Genya busy checking through every drawer and cupboard there is, the same routine she has had for every hotel they have ever stayed in together.
“Not really,” a critical frown as she closes the minifridge. “Showers and a little rest. I’ve booked us in for dinner at eight down at the restaurant.”
“Good,” leaves her suitcase open on the floor, grabs her toiletries. Has no doubt it will be unpacked and neatly stowed away by the time she gets back. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
Goes to sleep with her belly full of saffron risotto, the faintest sound of Genya talking in the bathroom.
They spend the next morning walking around the village, go for a guided tour in an old coal mine after lunch. Dark and cramped, fascinating but Alina is relieved when they escape back outside, dark there as well, but doesn’t have to worry about an old outholed mountain crashing down on her head.
Have dinner at the same restaurant at the hotel, once more ignoring the concerning number of dishes with whale listed amongst the ingredients.
“Aren’t you happy we came?”
Genya smiling across the table, cheeks still a little flushed.
“Depends on what you got planned for us tomorrow.”
“Seriously? Dog sledding?! Genya—”
“No, relax, I promise it will be fun. I’ve arranged so you can sit in the guide’s sled, you don’t have to do anything, no touching or petting or anything, you can just sit and enjoy the view.”
Stops in the middle of the pavewalk, not entirely sure but pretty certain the person behind mumbles something about Americans as he skirts around her.
“I’m sorry, do I need to remind you of the whole polar night thing this place has going on?”
Genya simply laughs, comes back and links their elbows together, somehow knowing exactly where to go despite the fact that her phone is nowhere to be seen.
“You’re such a city girl. Don’t worry, you’ll be amazed at what you will be able to see.”
They get picked up by a friendly blonde man with a van that presents himself as Max, six more chattering tourists piling in, far more excited than Alina is feeling. The volume loud and the heat too high, no street lamps for her to count and distract herself with. The drive blessedly short though, fifteen minutes and then they pile out again, thankful for once for the frigid air, a relief for Alina’s building nausea.
“You okay honey?” Genya asks, standing a little further away than natural, still burned by the one time when they were fifteen.
“Mhm, just give me a minute please.”
Face to the sky, eyes closed, the loud barking of too many dogs in her ears. Does her very best to not give into the fear tickling somewhere at the base of her spine. Uncomfortable but no longer feeling like she might decorate the snow with her stomach contents when she follows Genya over to the rest of the group. Receives a giant blue snowsuit, for the first time nice and toasty, far beyond caring about her resemblance to the Michelin man as Max introduces her to another man, black snowsuit and black hat.
“Aleksander, this is Alina, she will be your little stoveaway for the day.”
Looks at her, a sort of handshake she can barely feel through the thickness of her mitten, manages to make some sort of polite sound reassuring enough for Max to walk away, leaving her alone and she is decidedly not okay.
This is bad, bad, bad, bad!
Tall enough that she has to tilt her head a little to be able to look him in the eyes but not so much that it gets weird. A neat beard, full except for a tiny little patch she instantly focuses on, eyes that are far too dark for polite society. Jawline and cheekbones and much too nice hair made visible by the mysterious lack of a hat. Grateful all of a sudden for the biting cold and the winter in her cheeks hiding her creeping blush.
He doesn’t smile.
“Not a fan of dogs?”
Watches him adjust one of the harnesses, stands very still as one of them sniffles intently at her mitten, butting her palm with its head.
“It’s not like I hate them,” unfair how tall he is when standing straight, peering down at her and Alina feels on the verge of overheating. “I had a bad experience with one as a kid, been—“terrified.“—hesitant about them ever since.”
“These ones are friendly despite their loudness. Max and Zoya don’t let the ones who can’t behave around the tourists.”
“Everyone says that their dogs are friendly. No-one wants to admit that they got a biter.”
His expression never changes, the same seriousness bordering on crankiness, but still—
Something there, an intensity peeling away every layer she got, turning baby soft merino into the ruggedness of an old sailor. Skin itchy and uncomfortable and she wants to demand that he makes it better.
“That’s what happened to you? You got bit?”
Hesitantly gives into the grey menace’s demands, gives it a quick, careful pat on the head, tongue wagging out of its mouth.
“Had a neighbour once that liked having dogs,” truths that are none of his business spilling without second thought. “Didn’t so much like teaching them how to behave and one of them jumped the fence into our backyard once. I’m sure it was going for the food I was holding, but it got my arm instead.”
No idea why she’s telling him this, some weird desperation for his approval, that she isn’t being silly and difficult and butting into his space just for the sake of it. Relaxes a little when he nods, steals the grey thing’s attention with a low whistle and a couple of proper head scratches.
“People like that shouldn’t be allowed to own dogs,” extremely proud of herself for not reacting when he touches her shoulder. “Why don’t you get settled in the sled? I have to check on the rest of the group.”
Does as told, finds it somehow more than okay, some soft pillow beneath a pelt, thick wool blankets. Tracks Aleksander as he makes his way through the group, adjusting grips and pointing something out and Alina almost pulls something in her neck when he looks back at her over his shoulder. Sinks lower into the sled, fills the time by inspecting the stitching on her mittens. Doesn’t look up even when her ears pick up boots crunching against snow, her lap endlessly fascinating.
“Are you comfortable?”
“Mhm,” peeks up at him, a rifle strapped to his back now, a massive flashlight on his head. Wonders if she should have one. “It’s surprisingly nice.”
Kneels down next to her, stays as still as she can while he readjusts something on the side of the sled. Freezes in place when his hands move to the blankets, tucking them even better around her. Straightens without comment and she absolutely loathes him.
Annoyingly enough Genya was right, can see more than she thought once they leave the farm behind and her eyes adapt. The sky’s blackness made a little softer, the ground lit up by the shine from the moon and stars bouncing off the snow. A faint burn in her cheeks, tearing up on occasion, blinking away wetness as she stares into the vastness.
Inside her stomach a ball that continues to churn, a slow forming thought that isn’t slow at all. It was there the second she saw him, a desire that makes her continuously force herself to look straight ahead. To avoid the temptation of looking back, a ridiculous notion, not the time and place to ask what she wants. The very idea in itself ridiculous, the absolute opposite of what she and Genya came here for.
Takes his offered hand, less helps and more lifts her out of the sled, stumbles a little when her feet make contact with the ground. Grips onto his arm for a second too long after finding her balance, the want, need, absolutely senseless meaningless urge to step closer into his arm. Feels like an awkward duckling when she follows him around, fiddling and chewing on her lip as she watches him take care of and settle the dogs away. Finally turning towards her, hands in his pockets, eyebrows a little raised, a bit of frost decorating his beard.
Finds it oddly charming.
“So,” fumbles after words, wishes he would speak, do this for her. “Do you live in the town?”
“No.”
“Where do you live then?”
A terrible disaster how expressionless his face is, desperate for him to take pity on her, unused to this, having to actually say the words. To ask him when he should be the one asking her, begging Alina for her to go home with him. All the bars and pubs and restaurants she’s ever been in and suddenly a stranger in the middle of nowhere on an island in the middle of nowhere is the one to give her trouble.
“I have a cabin outside of the village, why?” thinks this is it, her mouth dry, wants to push at his chest, yell at Aleksander for not letting her figure out what this thing bouncing somewhere between her chest and stomach is. “Would you like to see it?”
Close to tears as she nods, looks down at the ground and awkwardly stamps her feet. Fingers beneath her chin, forcing her head back up, and it’s not a smile, not yet, just a barely there twitch of one corner of his mouth as he wipes wetness away from her cheek. An embarrassment she entirely blames on the cold.
“It’s quite nice, I built it myself. I have a dog though.”
“I’ll manage.”
The words rushing out of her and then her relief is replaced by pure annoyance when Genya crashes into her, forcing first her attention and then her body as she links their arms together, unwittingly tugging Alina away step by step.
“Did you have fun?! You had fun right?”
Happy exciting chattering, tries her best to nod and make appropriate sounds, had mostly enjoyed it despite her distractions. .
“Genya,” ignored, something about almost falling off. “Genya— Genya!”
“What? What is it?”
Confused blue eyes wide as they stare at her, silence and then they slide over her shoulder, focusing on what Alina hopes is the man lingering somewhere in her vicinity. Flickering back and forth and then her face settles into the same expression she had when they were seventeen and Alina had shown up to the last day of junior year in her weed dealer’s car.
“Alina, you can’t be serious?”
“What?”
“He’s a complete stranger. You can’t just go off with him into the wilderness alone.”
“Not the wilderness,” looks back over her shoulder, Aleksander staring at her, snowmobile used as a chair while he waits, elbows on his legs, rifle packed away somewhere. Assumes it’s in the grey box she can faintly see behind him. “To his cabin.”
“His cabin that I am positive is in the middle of nowhere! That’s sort of the point with cabins.”
“That’s your family’s definition of cabins Genya, besides, it will be fine, seriously. I’m pretty sure he’s safer than some random guy in New York. I bet if you asked any local in town they’d know exactly where it is. And there are limited ways off this island, difficult to kidnap me.”
More hissing protests that she ignores, feet scrambling away before Genya can physically restrain her and drag her into the waiting van. Finds herself in front of Aleksander before she can blink, no greeting, just his face shadowed as he steals her nice warm hat, ears immediately starting to freeze.
"Hey—”
“Relax sweetheart. Here, let me.”
A balaclava thread over her head, a little too big but everything immediately much better, lets him fiddle with it so it’s nice and snug under the collar of the suit. Glad to have the warring temperatures to blame her blush on as he puts a helmet on her head, fastens it with nimble fingers. The tinted visor of the goggles making the world darker but Alina doesn’t miss the way his eyes linger on where her lips would be as he does it.
“You’ve received permission for me to borrow you right? The police won’t have to drag themselves out to my place for a wellness check?”
“It’s fine, promise.”
Voice a little muffled.
“Good, get on then.”
Manages to shake the most of the awkward duckling, though not entirely graceful as she climbs on behind him. Max coming over while she adjusts, quick words, a nod and a curious look her way before he leaves again. An itch on her nose she can’t scratch, wonders suddenly if she is doing the wrong thing. And then Aleksander twists, his hands on hers, guiding them around his waist—hold on now—speeding away before she can think again.
The golden lights from the farm fading away, replaced by the harsh white from his snowmobile as they drive. Leans her head against Aleksander’s back, around her darkness and a flurry of snowflakes, the roar of the engine drowned out by the pounding of her heart echoing through her head. Follow along the road they drove in on for a while. Loses track of time, city lights getting closer only to disappear. Isn’t sure how long it’s been once the first cabin comes into view.
Briefness stretched into half an eternity.
Stop and for a moment there is silence in a way she has never before experienced. Can hear nothing but her own breathing, a vast ocean in her ears. Nothing for her to hear, gone the background noise that’s been following her her entire life. Silence and then the shuffle of her clothes as she slowly lets go of Aleksander, hesitant suddenly as she mimics his motions. The snow a hardpacked path across the area she guesses counts as a yard, follows him up icy steps, clumsy where he is steady.
Door already unlocked as he opens it, instantly greeted by a black shadow twirling around her legs, curious intense sniffing, a wagging tail. Fear kept in check by all four legs staying on the ground, losing interest when no attention is given, seeks out Aleksander's kneeling form and waiting hands instead, eagerly dooling out pats and scratches.
“This is Kaisa, very friendly, doesn’t bite and—” cheeks licked the instant he removes his helmet. “—as of two months ago she no longer jumps on strangers for attention.”
Watches as he gently moves the dog off, a clip attached to her collar, interest lost in favour of sniffing something on the steps. Follows Aleksander inside when he beckons, closes the door behind her, a sort of half hallway with stone tiles crossing into light wood. Her own awkwardness returning watching Aleksander shed his outwear, all hung neatly on hooks on the wall. The balaclava subtly starting to itch but lost all control over her arms, hanging droll and useless.
“Won’t she get cold?’
Kneeling before her, hair much too nice for someone who’s had it flattened under hats and helmets all day. A strand of it falling down into his eyes, quickly brushed away.
Looks soft.
An itch in her fingers.
“Kaisa? Nah, she loves winter, would happily have stayed outside all day.”
“Then why—”
“Polar bears and reindeer, can’t have her be attacked or attack something. Wouldn’t end well either way.”
Leaves her standing there on the mat, all too familiar in what Alina guesses is a single layer of thermal underwear. Gun quietly locked away, turning on a few lamps, a string of fairy lights over the windows, face finally properly visible again, an amused smile as he starts building a fire. He’s somehow bigger than Alina expected, shoulders far broader, the muscles in his arms visible even under the black wool covering them.
“It’s not that you don’t look hot in that getup, but you might get a little uncomfortable. It’s not windy and I have heating on as well so it’s going to get nice and toasty in a bit. ”
Finally regains control over her arms, snatches off the balaclava, her braid losing the battle against everything, hair tie lost somewhere down her back.
“Can’t say I’ve experienced seduction by fire before.”
“No?” wants to smack him. “It’s a very successful method, I highly recommend it.”
Rolls her eyes and doesn’t look at him as she removes the snowsuit and her jacket, hangs them as neatly as she can on the hooks next to his clothes. A little bench she sits down on, fiddles with the laces on her boots, a little frozen, stubborn. Flexes her feet when she gets them off, a little ache from their weight, pants loud as she shimmies out of them. Keeps on her nice white fleece, needs the protection of it, tiptoeing around in this stranger's home. Both larger and nicer than she expected, light wood and colours, an open door to a bedroom that she ignores.
Makes her way to the living room windows instead, a deck outside, can barely make out the bay beneath it. Alina’s own face staring back at her, behind her a man moving closer, wrapping himself around her, chin resting on her head.
Can feel him against her hip.
“I probably should offer you something to drink, but we don’t need that pretence do we? We both know why you’re here.”
Turns and twists loose from his hold, stares up at him.
“Do we?”
Eyes crinkling, the pads of his fingers a butterfly touch as they stroke over her cheeks, down her neck.
“You’re here so I can fuck you,” the tickle of a kiss pressed to the corner of her mouth. “Make you into a cute little mess that can't walk.”
“You’re quite sure of yourself. Maybe I just really wanted to see your cabin, it’s a rare opportunity after all.”
Loops her arms around his neck, no alcohol needed, something in her mind already muddled. Grins as his touch finds her waist, a single finger making its way beneath fleece and wool to stroke above her ass.
“Maybe,” the flicker of flames shining over his face. “But I’ve been alive long enough to know when someone wants to sleep with me.”
Tries to look past his handsomeness, study his face more critically, unfairly nice skin for a man, a tiny freckle beneath his right eye. Some lines across his forehead and faint crows feet around his eyes but no hint of grey in his hair or beard.
“How old are you?”
“Older than you are. Not old enough for it to be completely inappropriate.”
Laughs, finally gathers up the courage to kiss him, a slow rise to the tip of her toes, still a little out of reach until he bends to meet her, a barely there, gentle first brush. Pulls away almost instantly and it’s okay, she can joke with this, not give into any of the sour little thoughts hiding somewhere.
“Maybe I like a little inappropriateness?”
“I bet you do,” one hand stroking through her hair, loosening the last tangles of her braid before cupping the back of her head. “Bet you run away with every stranger you meet in a foreign country.”
“I’m a modern woman, got a man in every port.”
Pleased when he snorts, receives another kiss, deeper this time, lingering, parts her lips a little, tongue licking into her mouth. Continues kissing her as he slowly walks her backwards, hands on her hips, no sense of direction, stumbles over a threshold. Whines when his mouth leaves hers.
“Aleksander—”
“Call me Sasha, hmm? Make it easier for you.”
Teeth scraping down her jugular, hands skimming the hem of her top.
“Sasha? Wait, are you Russian?”
Has more important things to think about but it distracts her as he eases both her thermal and fleece over her head, leaving her with an old sports bra that offers nothing but a concern about when her last wax appointment was. Aleksander seemingly unconcerned, mouth finding her throat again, searching until he finds the spot just under her ear that makes her breath hitch, hands digging into his biceps.
“A little bit, but don’t worry about that,” leaves her throat, finds her lips again, a soft kiss that is nothing more than his pressed against hers. “Be a good girl now, let me hear it.”
“Sasha.”
“Mmm, again.”
Orders, not requests. Doesn’t know if he knows how to ask for something in a polite way.
“Sasha.”
Smiling now as he kisses her properly, palms so very warm as they glide across her back. Wide and scorching, every inch left blazing. Winds her arms around his neck, up on her tiptoes, desperate as she deepens the kiss. Tongue gliding over hers, teeth nipping at her bottom lip. Whines when he pulls away, clumsily scrambling after him when he moves them around, becomes shorter suddenly, sitting down on the bed. Easier to kiss, ready to climb into his lap, stopped by a firm hand on her stomach.
“What are you— let me!”
Falls silent when he raises an eyebrow, a slow touch, cupping her hip, thumb tantalisingly close and yet so far away.
“Why don’t you get naked, hmm? Let me see you properly.”
“I’m cold.”
A pure lie. Fever coursing through her, every greedy inch of her lit up, skin barely able to contain her.
“Are you?” a glint in his eyes, a shimmering light that has her suddenly remember that he is a stranger. Knows absolutely nothing about him. “It isn’t nice to lie, you know?
“I’m not lying.”
“No? Are you shy then, is that it? Turned into a shy little kitten?”
“I’m not.”
No idea what has gotten into her, the contrary defiance that serves no purpose. A sudden need to egg him on, fumbling blindly for buttons to push, desperate to figure out what can possibly make him lose the patient facade verging so near plain boredom. Finds her buttons pushed instead as Aleksander unceremoniously starts to tug her bra off.
“Hey—”
Arms still lifting obediently, finds her chest naked and exposed.
“Hush kitten,” palms her right breast, briefly tugs at the nipple, a sharp pinch of pain gone before it’s registered. “It’s fine if you want to be shy, I can undress you myself.”
Swallows words about being a grown woman, lets him remove her double layer of leggings as well, the duckling returned as she steps out of them and her socks. Leaves her naked except for her panties, hands lingering over them.
“Silk?”
“You’re the first person I’ve met who has disapproved of me wearing nice underwear.”
“I’m not disapproving, not at all,” fingers rubbing lightly and it’s going to be seconds before he can feel her wetness through them. “Just don’t want you to get cold.”
“We’re sort of in the wrong place for that.”
“Mmm, maybe you are,” slowly pulls them down, an eternity before Alina can step out of them. Stands before him completely bare and surely her thighs must be stained and shiny by now. “I’ve been nice and cosy all day.”
“Now who’s lying?”
Tries for cocky bravery.
Fairly certain she fails. A shiver down her back as his gaze drags over her, goosebumps, her nipples hard when his mouth finds the right one. Tongue lavishing over it, a harsh suck, a tiny bite, kisses peppered over her chest until he finds the other one. Black eyes looking up, her breath circulating in the top of her throat, burning when his hands find her ass. No space left to worry about stubble or dry patches, the loss of his mouth made up for by finally being allowed to climb into his lap.
The hard line of his cock pressing against her an instant problem.
“Sasha—” scrambles for the hem of his thermal, wrenches it off him before he can protest. Finds muscle and smooth skin, a necklace with a pendant she has no time to study before he removes it. “I need—”
A loose hand around her neck, no pressure, simply there to steal her words and quiet her mind.
“Such a needy thing I’ve picked up,” crooked smile, lazy and indulgent. “But what about me, hmm? What about what I need?”
“You can have it, whatever you want, please,” could cry when he stops her from kissing him. Wide-eyed when he lets go completely, back hitting the mattress, reaching out to put a pillow under his head. Devastatingly far away and Alina is once again stopped when she tries to follow. “What I need, sweetheart, is for you to come and sit on my face.”
“You need what?”
Rolls his eyes at her, hands sneaking over her thighs, spreading over her ass, lets him lift her until her thighs slip over his shoulders and there is no time left for her to worry about anything. Tongue immediately swiping through her folds, a gentle tease that has her twitching, a low chuckle beneath her.
“You taste nice.”
Retort stolen as he licks her again, tongue broad and flat, finds her clit far too easily. A brief touch and then it’s gone, cunt leaking, Aleksander finding it all, lapping up every little drop. Urges her forward, one hand finding the bed, the other his hair, grinds her hips, uncaring, desperately seeking out every morsel of pleasure he provides. Tongue dipping into her, grips his hair tighter and tugs him closer, don’t know who is making the humming sound ringing in her ears.
Falls forward a little, more weight on his face, wants to lift herself up, give him space to breathe. Stopped by forceful hands around her legs keeping her in place, whines when his lips close around her clit, sucks harshly, a high-pitched yelp, thighs clenching, comes instantly as his tongue strokes over her clit again.
Supporting hand slipping from beneath her, collapses onto the mattress. Still twitching and squirming when the world starts to roll, Aleksander’s touch disappearing. Opens her eyes to find herself on her back, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Pushes herself up on her elbows to find Aleksander kneeling on the floor, smiling as he grabs her hips and drags her down the bed a little, settling between her legs, right one eased over his shoulder.
“You still with me?”
“Uhu—”
Thinks she is.
Most of her complete and whole as Aleksander’s mouth finds her cunt again, a quick teasing lick.
“Do you always come that easily or is that a special treat for me?” slowly processing as a long finger slips inside her, a kiss pressed to the inside of her thigh. “Either way I’m going to enjoy it a lot.”
Something in his voice that has her grumpily place her right foot on his shoulder, a futile attempt at pushing him off. Aleksander simply laughs, gives her ankle a quick kiss, another long finger entering her, curling against her walls. The briefest of exploration before he finds a little spot that has her jolt, leg slipping down his back again.
“Not even gonna make me work for it huh?”
“Fuck off!”
Drops back onto the mattress, uninterested in seeing the far too smug expression decorating his face. Lets herself slip down into the silence instead, into the sensation of a warm hand stroking over her stomach, over her breasts, thumb flickering back and forth over a nipple. The fingers in her cunt moving, scissors a little, slowly stretching her out, mouth pressing against her hip bone.
“Not there.”
“What about here?”
Moves to the other side, firmer, the faintest scrape of teeth.
“No—”
Gliding down, beard tickling, a teasing kiss to her clit as he adds a third finger. Presses her palms over her eyes, a lazy roll of hips against his touch. Knuckle deep inside her, full and yet so far from it, sucking at her clit, moving away to lap at the slick leaking out. Flinches when teeth sink into her thigh, harshness she’s unprepared for, free arm coming down, firm press over her stomach, forcing her still. Fingers moving, faster and faster and she can hear—
The brush of his thumb, teeth lingering, a hard sucking motion and Alina is certain it will be weeks before the mark is gone.
Comes at the thought.
Gasping as the pleasure rolls through her, Aleksander never stopping, continues fingering her through each squirming movement. Still restless when she opens her eyes to look at him again, beard shining as he licks at his fingers. Gives her half a smile, rises, peeling off the last of his clothes and like the rest of him is his cock bigger than she expected.
Hand wrapping around it, a slow stroke as he stares at her and there is something in his eyes that has her awkwardly scooting backwards across the bed. Her flight hindered by the heavy softness of her limbs, the pounding of her pulse in her ears, doesn’t know what’s up and down and only stops when her head bumps against wood.
“Ow.”
“Careful solnishko,” no idea how Aleksander has managed to appear between her legs. “I can’t fuck you if you’ve given yourself a concussion.”
Glares at him as best as she can, only mollified when he leans over her, adjusts pillows and she cranes her neck so he can put one properly behind her head. Opens her mouth, closes it, no idea what she was supposed to say. Lifts a hand and tugs him down into a kiss instead, swipes over his bottom lip, gets her own bit in return, once again unprepared for the harshness and it doesn’t matter. All that matters is the taste of her cunt lingering on him, his cock slipping over her stomach, the emptiness growing inside her.
Presses her hips upwards, an invitation he doesn’t take, left hand leaving her, seconds where the only thing that happens is the grip of his right hand around her throat growing meaner.
“Helvete—”
Hovering above her, lips curled in a snarl, irises gone, only black pupils rivalling the sky outside left.
“What is it?”
“I don’t have any condoms,” sitting up, heat disappearing. “I need to fuck you sweetheart,” his cock on her stomach. “Alina,” her cunt a leaky mess, all she can do not to squirm. “Lille venn, I need to fuck you, do you understand?”
“Yes, Sasha, yes, why can’t you just–”
Hand around her jaw, tight harsh grip, on the verge of pain.
“Lille venn, come on, listen,” grips his cock with his other, a glide through her folds, “I don’t have a condom so I need to know if it’s okay to fuck you or not.”
Tries, does her best, pulling words when all that comes are sobs.
“—yes, yes, it’s fine, I have an implant, I’m clean, promise, Sasha, swear—”
Pushing into her before she can finish speaking, stretching around him, nothing gentle about any of it. Loses her breath a little, the grip on her jaw easing, thumb stroking over her mouth, slipping in, pressing down on her tongue. A short thrust, a broken babble, a whine, gets shushed, a kiss pressed to her temple.
“It’s okay, relax sweetheart, you’re such a good girl, you can take it.”
Isn’t sure she can.
No more emptiness inside her, every inch and scattered piece of the body that used to make up Alina left at Aleksander’s mercy.
Doesn’t receive any.
The press of Aleksander’s hips against hers, the snap of them, cunt making an embarrassingly loud noise but still she isn’t ready. Too full to speak, uselessly grabbing at his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin. Desperately tries to hold on as he fucks her, harsh thrusts that forces unrecognisable sounds from her mouth. Grateful when he leans down to kiss her neck, can hide her face in his as teeth scrape over her throat, a hickey being left behind under her ear.
Slowly manages to relax, the sensations being less overwhelming, the glide of his cock good now, more than good. Rolls her hips to meet his, fumbles a little, a couple tries before she gets it. Adjusts her hips, right leg around his back, any edge she’s ever had polished into smoothness, rocking as best as she can.
Aleksander grinning when he lifts his head, cradling her face, unfair how large his hand is.
“There’s my precious girl,” brushing away strands of hair, a stray tear. “Pretty little perfect thing, you’re doing so good.”
Nods.
“I’m—” whatever she was supposed to say cutting off when he lets go of her face, stopping, a look that keeps Alina silent despite the need to complain. Slips out of her completely, a shocked bleat leaving without permission. “What—”
“It’s okay, don’t be so impatient.”
Straightening up, hands under her thighs, lifting her legs until they are dangling over his elbows, spread open. Pushes back inside, playing with her, slow and easy this time, nothing she can do, a body for him to use. Feet swinging a little with each thrust, her hips tilted up, cunt clenching around him.
“Sasha—”
“Hmm?”
Not entirely sure who she was before knew the sensation of Aleksander’s cock inside her.
“I think I need to come.”
“Oh? I already made you come twice, isn’t that enough?”
Eyes bright, eyebrows lifted dramatically, a touch of sweat on his brow, would have stuck her tongue out if she wasn’t interrupted by him picking up his pace again. Strokes somehow even deeper, each one brushing against something that has Alina hiding in her elbow. Gonna let him have her, play his game that has her pleasure building little by little, errant jerks and low moans, Aleksander grunting above her. Far too long before she realises the advantage he has given her.
Stops hiding, licks her fingers and finds her clit, circles it slowly, a gasping laugh when Aleksander narrows his eyes.
“That’s cheating.”
“Nu-uh.”
Can’t be bothered to muster eloquence.
Pressure building in her lower belly, tensing bit for bit, toes curling, aided by each harsh, pounding stroke of his cock.
Comes when he leans down and kisses her, more biting teeth than anything else. Leaves her shaking around him, clenching, legs twitching as he lets go of them. Both hands gripping her head, keeping her in place as he fucks her through her orgasm. Free hand on his face, eyes rolling backwards, the brush of his beard and a kiss against her palm. Panting as she tries not to struggle, everything overwhelming, odd shapes floating across her vision, Aleksander ducking again, another hickey sucked into the base of her throat.
“Gonna come now,” mumbling into her neck. “Fill you up, nice and— make sure that—”
Doesn’t know what he wants to make sure of.
One final pump, the hot feeling of cum, Aleksander spilling incoherent words that she doesn’t know. Grinding against her, rocking with each spurt, staying inside long after he’s finished. Closes her eyes, content with the heat he provides, the weight of him on top of her, gently strokes through his hair, scratches at the nape of his neck.
Tilts her head so she can press a kiss to his temple.
A faint one pressed to her shoulder in return.
Rolls off her eventually, everything suddenly cold around her. Tongue failing to cooperate before he’s back, damp cloth between her legs, attentively cleaning up every drop trickling out of her cunt. A flash of something across his face, tracks him into the dark bathroom. Whatever it was gone from his face when he returns to wrangle her under the duvet, a warm arm around her, her hand resting on his forearm, thumb stroking back and forth. Breath returning to normal, body exhausted, heavy as it sinks into place. Futile blinking when he suddenly groans into her neck, disappearing from her side once more.
“Where are you going?”
Yawning, curling into the pillows, everything soft and warm and comforting, moving an impossible feat.
“I just have to wrangle Kaisa back inside, can’t let her get in a fight with a polar bear. She’s not as big as she thinks she is,” a kiss pressed to her cheek, duvet back up under her ears. “You go to sleep, I’ll be back soon.”
World fading from her little by little, sinking deeper into the embrace of the darkness, the complete silence around her. None of the background noise usually provided by the city or herself, no blue light to distract her. A brief whine as a rush of cold finds her back, instantly replaced with a body finding hers, willingly lets herself be pulled closer. Falls asleep to the faint sensation of a warm hand brushing over her belly.
Alina is alone when she wakes.
It’s a slow thing, consciousness returning half a blink, one body part at a time. Toes digging into flannel, legs unwinding from the curled up position she’s been in. The duvet packed tightly around her, surrounded by an unfamiliar smell that makes her bury her nose into the pillow beneath in a thoroughly embarrassing way. Stays in her little cocoon, goes through every delicious ache in her body, a little sore and well-used. Takes her time getting out of the bed, lighting the bedside lamps, naked as she snoops around.
Faint music drifting from the open door to the living room, the comforting sounds of another person. Finds the bathroom, dark walls, white counters, two toilets that have her pause.
“Aleksander?”
Raises her voice, rocks on her feet.
“Yeah?”
“Which toilet do I–”
“The left one if you just need to pee.”
Thinks it’s quite possibly the strangest conversation she has ever had with a one-night stand.
Does her business, rummages through the drawers until she finds a spare toothbrush, and then goes to raid his closet. Rude of her honestly but doesn’t care once she finds soft sweatpants and a delightfully large knitted sweater, a little scratchy against her skin so she steals a t-shirt as well. A pair of grey socks with an odd band of green at the top, thoroughly satisfied with herself when she goes into the living room, takes a minute to take it in properly now, a giant light-grey sofa, white rug, the fireplace dead but the fairy lights lit again.
Tries to look outside and finds only her own face staring back at her.
Curls her fingers into the sleeves of the sweater as she walks up the steps to the kitchen, Aleksander seated by the table, laptop in front of him that he closes when he rises.
“Hey sleepyhead.”
Arms twisting around her waist and it feels dangerously natural to accept the kiss he gives her.
“What time is it?”
“A little after ten.”
“In the morning?”
“Mhm.”
Leans her head against his chest, kitchen windows revealing nothing more, somehow darker than the night before and she guesses there must be clouds overhead, blocking out the moonlight that should be there.
“Do you ever get used to it? The darkness?”
“Yes and no. There is a comfort to it, hygge og kos and all of that but it’s also exhausting sometimes,” hand stroking through her hair, gently untangling it. “It’s very easy to just let go of normality, stay inside and forget about the rest of the world, especially out here.”
“Is that why you got a dog? Something to force you out of bed?”
Moves her head so she can look up at him, wonders what happened in his life to make him look so serious even now.
“Partly,” kisses her again, nice and easy, hums against his lips. “I should probably take you back to your friend.”
“You should.”
Stares and wonders how he does it, blocking out the rest of the world so absolutely in a way that Alina has never experienced before. Everything narrowed down to Aleksander, to the sensation of his touch, the heavy weight of his stare, head tilted down against hers, crowding her against the kitchen island.
“Or maybe,” thumb on her lips, pushing down on the bottom one. “Maybe I can keep you a little while longer, hmm? Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Thumb slipping into her mouth, pressing down on her tongue, preventing her from answering. Closes her lips around it and sucks.
He’s slower as he peels her out of his clothes this time, mapping out what feels like every inch of her skin with his hands. Holding her down as his mouth travels back and forth between her nipples, suckling until they are stiff and sensitive, overstimulated, Alina ready to get herself off against his thigh in her desperation for an orgasm.
“When do I have to return you? It’s Christmas Eve in two days and I guess you’d like to celebrate with your friend?”
“Well, Christmas Day is the one that’s big in America but I don’t celebrate Christmas and Genya is Jewish so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Not here for Christmas? What are you here for then?”
“One last girl trip before Genya gets engaged. I wanted something warm and sunny.”
“I’m glad we’re fulfilling all your wants and desires then,” hands settling on her waits, pulling her a little closer. “You should call her though, tell her I’m borrowing you a little longer.”
A sudden realisation settling in, about hours long gone and lost, the thing she did not bring with her out here.
“I— I might have left my phone at the hotel, figured there wasn’t any point to bringing it. Can I use yours?”
Does her best to keep her face neutral, to not let the sheepish embarrassment she’s feeling seep through.
“You— Jesus christ Alina, it’s like you are begging for someone to steal you,” rolls away from her, rummaging in the bedside table drawer. “Wandering off into the wilderness, completely irresponsible of you.”
Sticks her tongue out at him and takes the offered phone, leaving him in bed. Steals the knitted sweater again before going into the living room. Curls up in the corner of the sofa, phone immediately unlocking to reveal what she assumes is the same black dog from the night before, sunshine, a vast blue sky and sparkling snow, mountains in the background.
Can admit that the thing is sort of cute.
Finds whatsapp, types in Genya’s number and adds it as a new contact, hesitates, presses the call button.
Ten seconds before it’s answered.
“—better be—”
“Hi Gen,” cuts her off before threats can start. “It’s Alina, just calling to check in.”
“Do you know what time it is?”
“Vaguely,” scratches at her knee, belly rumbling, doesn’t bother counting the hours since she last ate. “I’m sorry if I made you worried, but I promise I’m fine.”
“Worried? Why would I be worried? I wasn’t the one who ran off with a complete stranger into the middle of nowhere.”
“Do I have to remind you about freshman year again? I’m not the only one who—”
“Thank you, no more out of you,” laughs, Aleksander coming out of the bedroom, disappearing up into the kitchen. “So when can I expect you back?”
“About that,” an insane idea, hasn’t even asked him yet. “How mad would you be if I didn’t come back straight away.”
A minute of silence, checks and double checks that she hasn’t hung up by mistake.
“The dick is really that good huh?”
Sits down by the kitchen island, feet dangling from the barstool, grateful that he’s decided not to put a shirt on, can distract herself by looking at his back. Twisting muscle, a few red lines from her nails, some scattered moles. His neck woefully undecorated, a stark opposite from her own.
Turns back towards her, elbows on the table, takes one of his hands, glides a finger over faint calluses and lines.
“Do you— is it okay if I stay here a little longer?”
His hand lacing with hers, crow’s eyes crinkling.
“I think I can be fine with that, have some sick days anyways I need to spend.”
“Your boss— Max? He won’t be mad? They seemed kind of busy.”
“Oh, Max isn't my boss, I don’t normally work there as a guide. I was just helping out cause Zoya was ‘under the weather’ which means she was hungover and didn’t want to work.”
“What do you do then?”
“I work for the Governor's office, environmental stuff,” coming over to her side, warm palms gliding up her thighs. “Lots of paperwork rewarded with lots of being outside.”
“Oh.”
Has nothing better to say as he finds her cunt.
Alina never quite bothers getting properly dressed again, spends the rest of the day half-naked, Aleksander fucking her in the afternoon again. Leaves her dozing in bed as he dresses to walk Kaisa, thermal and more wool and snow pants, headlamp in his hand when he pokes his head in to look at her.
“I’m gonna bring her inside when we’re back if that’s okay? She’ll probably just go to sleep on the carpet.”
“I’ll be fine,” is sure she can just hide in the bed worst case scenario. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”
“Go ahead, just make it a quick one yeah? The water tank isn’t unlimited, also—" A swishing sound from his pants as he walks over to his closet, getting a wicker basket down from the top. “These are my sister’s, all clean promise. You look hot in my clothes but these will probably fit you better.”
Sits up, traces the pattern.
“I’m assuming you don’t have any clean panties lying around that don't belong to your sister?”
Wrinkles his nose at her, dipping his head and kissing him really should not feel that familiar.
“You don’t need panties, I like having easy access.”
Means to push him off, sighs into his mouth instead, cups his cheek, thumb brushing over his beard. Follows him when he lifts his head, hands gliding up into his hair, up on her knees, bites at his lip. Whines when his hands close around her wrists, firmly removing her hold.
“You're insatiable aren’t you?”
“Sasha—“
“No,” glares when he releases her completely, stepping back. “Take your shower and I’ll fuck you when I get back.”
Sinks back down on the bed, sits still and listens to the faint sounds of him putting on his jacket, the gun cabinet opening, a few steps of heavy boots on the floor. Silence once more, thrumming in her ears, the vastness of it daunting.
Takes the quickest shower she’s ever taken, turns the water off as she scrubs her scalp, grateful that the bottles in the shower have labels in English for whatever reason. Wrapped in a soft, fluffy towel as she goes through the waiting basket. More thermal gear, socks, some sweatpants and a pair of fleece lined tights she immediately steals. Considers the beautifully knitted sweaters in different colours, ends up taking the same grey one she’s been wearing all day.
Raids the fridge, busy peeling and cutting vegetables when Aleksander returns, smiling when he comes to wrap himself around her after some minutes, cheek cold as he presses it against hers.
“You smell like me.”
“Mhm, hard not to.”
The scrape of teeth over her jaw, lips gliding down her throat, a hand easing under the waistband of her tights.
“I’m trying to cook.”
“And that’s very nice of you,” hand cupping her cunt. “But put the knife down, be a good girl, let me fuck you first.”
Late in the evening, the news on in the background, a flurry of strange sounds melting into each other. Aleksander folded on the floor, playing tug of war with Kaisa, a ridiculously goofy smile. Studies the photos he has on the wall instead, a hard look on Aleksander’s face standing in front of the cabin, arms around two women she assumes are his sister and mother, intimacy and distance warring together.
Another one, Aleksander young, but still recognisable in a uniform, head shaved short, snow around him.
“You were in the army?”
“Mhm,” spares her a brief look. “Mandatory service when I was 19. Spent a year keeping watch by the border to Russia.”
“To Russia?’
“My citizenship is Norwegian,” gets off the floor to stand beside her, pointing at a frame with elderly couple in it. “My mother’s parents, they’re both Sámi, the indigenous people on mainland Norway, but my grandfather was born in Russia so that’s what he spoke with me and my sister.”
“So how many languages do you speak?”
“Just three and then about five words of German I still remember from high school. None of them ever taught me Sámi.”
“Why not?”
Another photo of young boy, a different face that is yet the same of the man standing next to her. On him a blue tunic of sorts, red over the shoulders, down the chest, intricate, beautiful embroidery.
Furrowed brows, tight hands, jaw clenching, never quite relaxing until Kaisa comes over, butting her head into his leg.
“The US isn't the only country to have treated its indigenous population like shit.”
More questions burning in her throat that she swallows back down.
Stranger. He’s a stranger.
Might have the knowledge of his skin against hers.
Still doesn’t give her the right to all his wounds.
Aleksander is with her in the bed when she wakes, wrapped around her, the hard line of his cock pressing against his ass. Easy to tilt her hips, to let him slowly slide into her, wet and slick from the night before, but still a little discomfort. Slow breaths, Aleksanders nipping at her throat, fingers cupping her jaw, tilting her head. A huffing breath of a kiss.
“There you are,” the first proper grind of his hips. “There’s my good girl.”
Flickering through his bookshelf when they are interrupted by a dog’s barking followed by the roar of an engine.
“Thought I had gotten permission to borrow you pet?”
The barking quiets, Aleksander’s hand brushing over her lower back as he moves to investigate. A rush of cold air that has Alina folding into the sofa, frowning at the sound of him speaking to someone. Blanket around her shoulders, curiosity winning out, creeps towards the door. Max on the other side, knelt down, gloved hands in Kaisa’s fur, a surprised look when he sees her.
Says something she doesn’t understand, no idea if he’s teasing or lecturing. Aleksander rolling his eyes in return, reaching behind her to grab the borrowed snowsuit from where it’s been hanging since her arrival. Shoves it into Max’s arms—fuck off—slamming the door in his laughing face.
“Everything okay?”
“Mhm,” hands on her waist walking her backwards. “Come one, I’m gonna teach you how to make cinnamon buns.”
“Are you Russian?”
Naked chest beneath her hand, counts his breaths, the sensation of entwining more than just mortal limbs. Curls closer, the darkness of his neck comforting, thinks she could hide there forever. Incense, ringing bells and her parent’s faces, the eternal dilemma of never belonging.
“In another life I would have been.”
The next morning she wakes alone, thinks she does anyway. Tries to move her feet, an odd weight on them, blinking as she straining upwards. Finds Kaisa staring back at her, lit up by the light spilling from the open door, positioned over her calves, snout pressed into the duvet.
“Hello.”
Kaisa simply continues to stare at her, tail whipping a single time. Alina’s eyelids are heavy, half-closing, the bed soft, her body tired, duvet snug and warm around her. The faint smell and crackle of burning wood, outside the wind, a low howling spinning around the corners, chasing away the constant silence of the past days and taking with it any desire to move.
“You’re lucky Aleksander likes you.”
Seamlessly glides back to sleep.
The dog still there when she wakes again, doesn’t move even when she retracts her legs. Rolling over onto her back, belly exposed and Alina knows a trap when she sees one. Ignores her as she gets dressed, sweatpants, a thermal, a hoodie she steals from Aleksander, getting dangerously used to the lack of underwear. The tapping of paws beside her when she exits the bedroom, ignores them as she unceremoniously curls up on Aleksander’s waiting lap.
“Morning.”
Greedily accepts the kiss pressed to her temple, angles her face so she can get a proper one. Hums, in the background the wind, the crackling of the fire, thinks she could—
“Do you always get up so early?”
A rumble in his chest, a brief smile.
“It’s not early, you just seem to like my bed a lot.”
“Shut up,” kisses him again, hand curling over his jaw, ridiculous how easy it all is. “Your dog makes for an excellent feet warmer.”
“Sorry, I was in the kitchen and then I just forgot.”
“It’s okay,” looks over her shoulder, Kaisa halfway under the coffee table, busy chewing on a poor teddy bear. “She behaved herself.”
“Good, but just let me know, I want you to be comfortable here. Not being allowed on the bed once in a while won’t kill her.”
She stays in his lap for another half hour, plays with the collar of his red flannel and wonders about the chances of getting him to chop something. Whines when he lifts her off, glaring at him over the couch edge as he disappears up into the kitchen.
“I’ll be back, just have to take the bread out of the oven.”
Turns around with a huff, heels pressed into the corner of the coffee table, takes a minute before she properly registers his words and the scent swirling through the room.
“You made bread?”
Discovers that that is exactly what he’s done. A crispy loaf of bread waiting for her when she manages to drag herself off the couch. Sits on one of the barstool and watches Aleksander slice smoked salmon, a cup of fresh coffee next to him. Dangles her feet while he makes scrambled eggs, the feeling of it all unbearable natural.
There is something that shifts as the wind continues to grow louder outside. A heaviness that grows throughout the day, realises at some point that it’s Christmas Eve, that her time is dwindling, slipping away and it shouldn't matter. Simply meant to be the briefest of interludes from Alina’s real life, a break within a break, a quick peek through the looking glass. She isn’t interested in four months of complete darkness, showers she has to hurry through, a dog that pays far too much attention to her.
She isn’t.
And yet—
A warmth and comfort within the walls she desperately wants to cling to, burrow deep down under covers blocking out the world and then never leave.
Defenceless when Aleksander turns his gaze on her in the evening, windows decorated with ice and snow, and there is no question in his stare. Retreats wordlessly into the bedroom, naked before his hands land on her. A scorching trail as they glide up her back, around her chest, cupping her tits, a cruel, mean teasing of her nipples, tugging and twisting, flickering over them before letting go completely.
“Get on the bed."
A gruff command she obeys without thought. Climbing up and this part, this part she doesn’t mind. A breathless easiness to it, back of her skull finding the pillows, an hollowness inside her that she is eager to have filled. Let down then by Aleksander forgetting himself, forgetting her, slowly undressing like he has no care. Idle hand closing around his cock, stroking himself while watching her.
“When do you go back to New York?”
Blinks.
Regrets it now, being naked, letting herself be vulnerable and exposed.
“We fly to Oslo on Tuesday and then—”
Cut off by a frustrated groan, on the bed with her before she can blink, pressed into the mattress, a hand cupping her head. Spreads her legs for him, somehow the most natural thing in the world in the past days. Cunt eagerly accepting the two fingers he pushes in, clenching down around them, clinging when they’re halfway pulled out.
“What are you—”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Warm again, thumb stroking her cheek, back and forth, a third finger slipping in, the same greed present in his touch as the first time he held her hand helping her out of the sled. “Alinochka, I have to give you back tomorrow, don’t you understand?”
Something in his voice that she latches onto.
A mystery for her to solve, hindered by the edging pleasure he forces on her. Tinted by confusion, mind hazy, slipping, a twitch in her leg, softness turned rough, all of her itching.
“Sasha—“
Unrepentant, rolling her hips, seeking out more and she is too hot and too cold, too much air between them. Curls a leg around Aleksander’s waist, grabs the hand he’s been stroking her face with, presses it to her chest. Clutching it as he fucks her with his fingers, opening her up, gentle curling motion, tight heat and pressure in her lower belly, almost everything she needs.
“Can you—a little faster—please?”
“No.”
One second.
Another.
Blinks at him, mouth slightly open, the softest teasing brush over her clit before that too disappears.
“Why—“
Pure cruelty as he slips his fingers out completely, licking them off one by one as he simply stares back at her, seemingly uncaring about both Alina and his own cock.
“You’re being mean to me so isn’t it fair that I get to be a little mean in return?”
“I’m not being mean to you.”
“Aren’t you?” Jaw gripped, the world blocked out as he leans over her, arm planted next to her head, nowhere for Alina to go. “You are leaving me in not even two days, how is that not you being mean?”
Has no reply, eternally grateful when he pushes into her instead, a rush of air leaving her lungs, no way for her to speak. Produces only a small whimper when he starts to move, eternally slow, shifting and straightening up, all of him seemingly miles away from her except for the hand on her jaw. Travelling down to her throat, a light touch, fingers drumming over her pulse. Wants to kiss him, wants to ask him to fuck her faster.
Scared he might say no, do something worse.
Only looks at him instead, once more lets him use her as he wants. Short, shallow trusts followed by deep long ones, no rhythm she can predict. Can only clutch at his arm, at the sheets, enjoy the warmth of his hand curling around her hip, fingers digging into her skin, helping her move.
Moving her as he wants.
Cock rocking inside her and Alina has no idea how he does it.
Hand tightening around her throat, pressure on the sides, pushes her into a bright orgasm between one hitching breath and the next. Pleasure rushing through her, feet slipping uselessly, a whine from someone far away, Aleksander fucking her through it all. Picking up speed, sharpness, impossible to land, cunt fluttering around his cock, just barely sees his lips move.
Something she misses.
“What?”
“Fucking birth control, of course you had to be on it,” impossible to speak, hand firm on her throat. Can only stare up at him, every thrust a little harder, thinks he looks angry. “Could have fucked a baby into you, hmm? Make sure you can’t go anywhere. Made you stay right here with me.”
No air left for anything but desperate attempts at breathing, has no words for him, no sounds as he rocks into her, convinced now that he is angry. Hands knocked away by his free one when she tries to touch him, gathered above her head. Pressed into the pillows with such force that she is positive he would have tied them there if he had the means.
Thinks maybe she would have let him.
“You could have made me a father, lovely little family of three.”
Positive he has gone insane.
Positive she has gone insane herself.
Doesn’t snap at him, tell him to get off and leave her alone and stop talking nonsense. Whines instead, hips jerking upwards, cunt clenching, and he is mean when he laughs.
“You would like that wouldn’t you,” hand leaving her throat, a gentle barely-there press where his cock is filling her, nowhere for her to go. “A growing belly, these pretty tits of yours filled with milk, kept you here nice and warm and safe.”
Glips out of her uninvited, the word swirling around in the back of her head, breaks free of the cage she has so neatly forced it into.
“Daddy–“
Nearly bites her lip bloody, hides her face in her shoulder, the pain of a hand on her jaw, forcing her back, squeezes her eyes shut because she doesn’t want to.
“Look at me.”
No choice.
Aleksander smiling and there is nothing nice about it.
“Say it again.”
A command burrowing into her, the wash of waves against the shore, darkness in the middle of the day and bright light in the middle of the night.
Inevitable.
“Daddy.”
Slips out of her, flipped over on her stomach, hips pulled high and then she’s filled again. Rougher with her now, every touch a burning brand, invisible marks underneath her skin Alina doubts she will ever be able to remove. One of Aleksander’s hands returning to its familiar position around her neck, keeping her in place. The other sneaking beneath her belly, a finger circling her clit, the room filled with the harsh sound of his hips snapping against her ass.
Everything blending together.
Biting into a pillow, thinks she might be crying a little, strands of hair sticking to her face when she tries to brush them away.
“Stop moving malyshka.”
Unfair of him.
Does as she is told nevertheless.
The vagueness of a threat in his words.
Afraid that the consequence will be the loss of his touch. Clings onto the pillow, smushes her face into it, weak attempts at rolling her hips to meet his, his thrusts too fast, too hard, carving out space even if there is none. Loses her mind a little with each drag of his cock, incoherent noises spilling into soft flannel.
“You’re going to come now Alinochka.”
No debate to be had. Thumb stroking up and down over her pulse, an impatient surety—yes daddy—fucks her as she comes—thank you, yes—slowing down just a little, easing her through it. Chest pressing against her back, lips pressed to the corner of her mouth, a mockery of a kiss. Grunting in her ear, words she doesn’t understand, mind completely blank as she feels him come.
Stays inside of her, the heavy weight of him never moving, keeping her pinned.
Time passing as it always does and eventually Aleksander slips out of her. Doesn’t go for a washcloth like usual, simply holds her close, fingers carefully stuffing his cum back into her and there is a heat in her belly she refuses to think about. Wraps herself in his presence instead, in the feeling of his body, the low sound of his breathing and doesn’t think about the dwindling hours.
“Did— did you mean what you said earlier?”
“What?”
Stares at the wall, avoids the possibility of seeing her reflection in the window. Doesn’t want to know what she might find there.
“That thing about— about me getting pregnant?”
A long pause, the hand tracing circles on her bicep stopping. Wonders if she’s imagining the moment of stiffness, the shaky breath before he speaks.
“Jesus, fuck, no, I’m sorry Alina,” a kiss to her shoulder, honey-smooth voice. “Lille venn, of course I didn’t mean it, my mouth just runs away with me at times.”
Could argue with every word he says.
Make him understand that the things he told her aren’t normal. That they are still just strangers, that he can’t pump someone full of cum and then talk about babies and families and forcing someone to stay where they don’t belong.
“Okay.”
Quietly accepts them instead, easier for herself and doesn’t turn to look like she wants, tired from his attentions, lulled gently to sleep. The faintest sensation of being rolled over, lips against her forehead, more words Alina doesn’t understand.
Wakes at a hand stroking her hair, the cabin warm around her, blinking groggily at Aleksander, the entire world a little hazy around her.
“What—”
Warm hand cupping her cheek, snuggles into, a smile too bright for the darkness, ready to go back to sleep, bed nice and soft, knows somehow that it’s the middle of the night, nowhere she needs to be.
“No, no, no sleepyhead, stay awake, with me, here. Come outside, you have to see.”
Bundled in several layers of wool far too big, the fire still smouldering red as he guides her through the living room, a puffer jacket swishing around her ankles, boots that aren’t hers. Silent when she steps outside–quiet now so they don’t notice you–for the first time since he brought her here. The storm finally over, clouds disappeared, breath a white mist in front of her, cold air biting at her nose, nipping over her chin.
Above them the black darkness has finally receded. The sky lit up in brilliant colours swirling across it. A dark green brightening as she watches, specks of turquoise, a deep purple fading into a blushing pink. Hues and tones changing for every blink she takes, a never ending dance over the freezing sea and ancient mountains.
“You don’t have this in New York, do you?”
Aleksander’s lips warm against her cheek, arms tight around her. Holds her with the steady surety of someone who doesn’t know the concept of letting go.
Thinks—
Don’t make me choose.
Not yet.
It ends like this.
A day where she doesn’t know how to speak.
A lump in her throat whenever she tries, staggering broken pieces, heavy looks she has no defence against.
Doesn’t fuck him.
Doesn’t seem fair to either of them. Straddles Aleksander’s lap and hides in his neck instead, the pressure in her chest growing with each passing hour. Eased into a slow kiss as they near the evening, hands cradling her face, brushing through her hair. Tears she refuses to let become real hiding behind her eyelids when she breaks off, stares at Aleksander’s kiss swollen mouth.
Just a break.
A pause.
“You should take me back now.”
Strokes his cheekbones, memorises a goodbye.
“Yeah.”
Discovers he has a car, only a short trip up to a parking space with his snowmobile. Is shuffled aside the frozen interior, a blast of warm air, left alone, Aleksander appearing bit by bit. Frowning, silent as he gets in, a wall between them that she has no energy to climb. Stares at her hands as they drive, a drumming in her head, too much noise appearing at once.
“Which hotel are you staying at?”
“Umm,” looks up at him, tongue rasping against the top of her mouth. “Pol- Polfarer- I’m not sure–”
“It’s okay.” Still frowning, breaking to let someone cross in front of them. “I know which one you mean.”
Can’t stop staring now that she’s started, eyes flickering between white knuckles around the steering wheel, unruly strands of hair falling onto his forehead, knows that if she were to pull down his jumper a little she would find a faint purple mark. Barely notices when they pull off the road, down the tiny hill, a quick turn and then they’re idling in front of the entrance. Watching him, wants to say something, anything that will dissolve the pressure inside her into something she can bear.
A hand on her cheek, thumb brushing something away from it, soft sweetness and his mouth opening.
Beats him to it.
“Thank you,” leans forward, a one-two press of her lips to his cheek, just adove the edge of his beard. “I had a really good time.”
Disappears out the door before he has a chance to answer, doesn’t look back as she hurries inside. People in the lobby, a shocking sensation of seeing other faces, hurries upstairs, should probably have called Genya, told her she was coming. Sheer relief when she hears faint footsteps after her first desperate knock.
Sits on the floor of the shower and washes him away.
Morning arriving and Alina isn’t sure if she ever slept. Confused as she follows after Genya, a gaze full of curious questions she’s grateful she isn’t being made to answer. The heat too high inside the taxi, rips her jacket off, one step closer to being home and she should be happy. Check their bags, barely any people in the hall, idling around, barely notices the squeak of shoes behind her.
“You know,” Aleksander's voice low, a little rough. “Foreigners always show up way too early for these flights.”
Swirls around and she has already forgotten how tall he is, even like this. Shoulders hunched a little, wrapped in a knitted jumper in blue, red and white, thinks he looks tired.
“What are you doing here?”
Flinches at her own voice, the crassness of it, rude, like she wasn’t hiding in his neck twenty-four hours ago, wondering why time was passing so quickly.
“Thought I should come and say a proper goodbye. You didn’t exactly give me the chance yesterday.”
Walking closer, gentle as he erases the space between them, finger stroking her cheekbones and it isn’t fair of him. Turns away, her retreat stopped by a hand closing around her wrist, a firm grasp holding her in place, a hard chest pressed against her back. Lips against her ear, the tickle of hot air freezing her in place. Lost her heart somewhere, thinks maybe it’s in her throat or maybe busy freefalling into her stomach. A flutter of too many things and all she can see is a dirty footprint on the tiled floor. Wants to beg him to be quiet, to not say a word.
“Stay. Linka, please, stay here with me.”
Tongue swelling in her mouth, unruly and cumbersome, impossible to move, to make a single sound. Can only wait, head bowed, a thousand million second and none at all before the grip around her wrist slowly starts to loosen, heat dropping away one degree at a time, finds her back suddenly cold as if someone has poured a bucket of ice beneath her sweater.
Doesn’t look back as she lifts her head, shakes her head at Genya.
Has a home and life and belonging that isn’t here.
Presses her face to the airplane window, doesn’t care that it’s dirty and cold.
And doesn’t cry.
Not at all.
The four days they spend in Oslo a messy blur. Aimlessly wanders behind Genya, smiles and speaks words that must be half-way believable even though there are constant specks of hesitation floating in the air.
Wakes, blinks confused at lights and noises, traffic she isn’t high enough to escape.
A moment spared to think about Aleksander in his cabin, the endless silence around him, the world fading and the only thing one can hear is the shrieking rush of the wind. Wonders briefly what he is doing as she brushes her teeth. If he’s having lunch as she does her morning workout, taking Kaisa for a walk as she showers for delightfully long minutes, somewhere on his snowmobile as she heads to the office. A subway car, icy shivering of the streets replaced with the uncomfortable heat of too many people in a too little space. Unwinds her scarf and does her best to breathe calmly and doesn’t think about the sensation of untouched clean snow crunching under her boots.
Shuts off that part of her brain and refuses to think about him for the rest of the day, emails and drinks and the endless chirping of her phone. Absolutely none of it urgent and yet every little banal detail presented as a catastrophe by the overworked honey bee is sitting on the other side. 5 pm and closes her laptop even though there are more things for her to do, a meeting request to decline, lines of code to troubleshoot, the internal debate of whether or not working with the beef industry is worth the money they’re paying her.
A New Year’s Eve party, champagne bubbling on her tongue, a tiredness that stems from more than a body confused by time zones and shifting sunsets. Finds herself suddenly completely alone, a thousand miles away gazing at the people surrounding her. A home and a life and a belonging and she is acting ridiculous over a good fuck. Viktoria and Kristina giggling into each other’s ears, waving her closer when they notice her. Arms latching around her neck and more drunken giggles, a delightful ease to them even as her ears fail to pick up a single word they’re saying.
Slowly released from their hold, gathers her jacket, isn’t sure how her one minute of fresh air turns into walking down Chambers Street heading for the bridge, quicker, warmer, safer to get on the subway. Think she would puke if she did. The usual bundle of tourists by City Hall gone, walks as fast as she can manage, throat raspy from cold air by the time she makes it to the other side.
Drags herself up the three flights of stairs to her apartment, too jittery to wait for the elevator. Paces back and forth in the living room, staring at her phone, the glitter and laughter of the streets long faded, opens WhatsApp without thinking. Memorised Aleksander’s number from Genya’s phone, heart in her throat as she makes a new contact.
The new year long since arrived there, morning closing in, the risk of waking him lessening with each passing minute. A car honking and she has a headache, a blinking cursor, three little white words inside a green bubble.
I miss you
A gnawing pit in her stomach, regrets leaving, regrets going, minutes passing, drops her phone when it suddenly starts vibrating.
“Well,” voice groggy, but humour there that has her folding in half. “Took you long enough.”