Chapter Text
Isak finished setting out a tray with cut fruit, yogurt, and granola when his phone buzzed. He moved on light feet towards the balcony and slid the glass door almost shut behind him. Out on the balcony, Dali lounged in the spring morning sun, on one of the two Parisian cafe metal wrought seats. Isak took the second.
“Hey,” he answered. At first, these interactions had been odd, or at least difficult to navigate. But now, a genuine friendship had kindled.
“Hey, Isak. How’s things?’
“They’re good. All clear from the doctors this week. He won’t have so many check-ups from now on.”
“That’s great news.”
“It is,” Isak admitted, the sigh that eased with the words attested to the sensation of relief that coursed every time the silver lining thickened—any grey sky of the past few months almost entirely eclipsed. “How are you?”
“Busy but good. The new position is keeping me on my feet.”
“I bet. Dinner's on you when you’re next down here.”
Sonja scoffed. “Couldn’t let a student pay, could I?”
“Not a student yet. Technically still just unemployed.”
“That makes it even worse,” she chided with a laugh that coaxed a smile. There was a lull that didn’t often find a place in their conversations, not that they’d talk for hours, but awkwardness hadn’t tarnished their connection. Isak assumed that was due to the peculiar circumstance in how they’d met. “Listen, Isak. I’ve been meaning to say something for months, but I don’t know how without sounding like an asshole.”
Dali shifted around and sat up, peering over the tabletop—expectant of food, no doubt. Isak reached out to scratch her under the chin, and she began to purr. “You know I’m not gonna think you're an asshole.”
She hummed, unconvinced. “It’s just… I wanted to say thank you.”
“Thank you?” he frowned. “How would that make you sound like an asshole?”
She hesitated before divulging. “When things were ending, although we both knew it was coming and accepted that, it was still hard for me. I’d planned to find a job somewhere else so I could move, I had all these spiralling ideas to go do something new, somewhere else—like he was doing before everything.” She took a deep breath, exhaling shakily. “And then the accident happened, and we both got stuck in this no man’s land. I’m not saying I suffered like him, but it was hard not knowing what to do or where to be. And I was worried that, if—no, when—he woke up, we’d end up in contempt of each other because I wouldn’t have been able to leave him to struggle and recover alone. And that we’d go on and ruin our memories, even more than we already had last year. I wanted to keep it safe, I wanted our time to stay a good memory. I worried and worried, but I had to give up protecting what we’d been to each other.” The words and emotions tumbled out in rapid freefall. She paused before adding in a tone that managed to convey the stability she’d regained in that brief moment, “And then you appeared.”
Isak listened to her, feeling out each heartfelt word and letting them unfold. It would have been hard for her, living in that in-between world, just like Even had. But she’d had a sense of reality, knew what was happening, and what might have to be sacrificed to do what she knew to be right. “You don’t need to thank me for appearing. We were all dragged to this point by the universe. And there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Sonja huffed another soft laugh, and Isak imagined her smiling. “But I want to say it, I want you to know I’m grateful. Even though there’s no other choice for any of us, even if this was all predestined, I can still be grateful. When Even decided to leave, when we knew what that meant for us as a couple, I just wanted to protect the good things we’d shared. And because you’re here, supporting and loving him, it means I can do that. That I can be free and enjoy the love I had, and find more out there in the world.”
Isak swallowed down the lump that had formed as her words had wound around him. Gracious didn’t come close. “And you deserve it, you know? All that love.”
“You too, Isak.”
Isak smiled as a breeze swirled around him, bringing the rustle of fresh spring leaves and the smell of fertile soil from the manicured garden below. “Let me know when you’re next in town so we can catch up properly.”
“I’ll be down next month, so I’ll let you know dates and we can meet up. You’ll have to bring Eva and—was it Jonas?”
“Yep.”
“Yeah, I don’t wanna be the third wheel. Fifth wheel I can cope with, but not third.”
Isak grinned. “I’ll make sure to bring them.”
“How are your parents?”
“They’re good. My mum is still convinced that all this is a miracle; she’s told her church friends and the pastor. Seems to outweigh the whole being gay thing.”
Sonja laughed. “That’s something, then. But you gotta admit, it is a bit weird. It’s crazy that you already knew each other.”
“Yeah, I know.” Crazy didn’t begin to describe it. Isak cleared his throat, eager to gloss over that newly unearthed fact because it was difficult to wrap his logical mind around. After this whole adventure, he should be more flexible about the fantastical. “They’re coming over later, bringing some food, and I think my mum said throw blankets? I don’t know why.”
“She’s making things cozy—mothering. Let her do it. And tell them I said hi. Anyway, I'd better go. I’ve got a yoga class to get to.”
“Don’t stretch something that shouldn’t be stretched.”
“You, too,” Sonja said, smirk clear in her words.
Isak shook his head as the call ended, feeling a tinge of warmth in his cheeks. He checked the display, and a text had come through.
The deadline is in two weeks. Have you done it yet?
Isak typed a quick reply. Hi bestie. I’m fine, thank you. How are you?
Eva sent back a frown emoji, and then: Isak, I will hack into your accounts and send it myself.
Relax. It’s done already.
It is?
Yeah. So fingers crossed I’ll be a student again by autumn.
Fingers crossed? It’s a done deal. So, celebration drinks?
Maybe tomorrow. Mum and Dad are coming today.
I was thinking of having a picnic by the fjord near my mum's. What do you think?
And Isak didn’t need to double-check or find excuses. The idea of doing something, going somewhere, being alive in the world and enjoying the company of his friends—it was precious to him now. I’ll check in with Even and let you know, but he’s itching to get out as much as possible. I don’t think it’ll be a hard sell.
Great. I’ll let you know what we’re bringing, and you can choose what you wanna contribute.
Sounds like a plan.
Speak later. Gotta go build some furniture with Jonas.
Is that what you call it now?
She replied by sending a simple wink emoji.
Isak pocketed his phone and stepped back inside, Dali hot on his heels. She weaved between his feet.
“No wonder you're so chunky. Are you always hungry?” He tsked but, despite his grumbles, dropped a few biscuits in the bowl that Dali swiftly stuck her face into.
Isak left her to gorge and grabbed the tray, taking the short route to the bedroom. The spell of magic had faded from the first few weeks, when it felt as if Isak still lived in the dream, being here—in living flesh—in this flat that had provided that one kernel of stability for rebirth. Now he knew it was reality, yet the notion snared him at times, and Isak's heart fluttered as he contrasted the two existences. The things they’d done over the months they lived in that realm, and now they were here, ready to do it all again.
Isak pushed against the door gently, the soft sound of the wood passing over carpet as it opened catch the attention of the man in bed. He turned, blue eyes that sparkled like his smile. And just like that, Isak’s heart skipped a beat again.
“Morning,” he said gruffly.
“How long have you been awake?”
Even sat up and watched Isak move around the bed to set the tray down on the bedside table. “Not long.”
It was still something to get used to, the light that danced in Even's eyes as he’d watch Isak—even when Isak wasn’t looking, he could feel the warmth, approval, bliss emanating from Even. No one had looked at him like that before the dream, and it was even more intense in the waking world. How did he get used to someone looking at him this way? Had he done enough—was he enough—to deserve that adoration? Yet, it wasn’t a question worth airing because some things weren’t earned, they just were. And if he felt unworthy, it only meant he needed to become more worthy. Isak would strive to be the best version of himself and accept the loving light that poured from Even.
And Isak knew he shone the same expression at Even whenever he could, not because he was conscious of the feat. No, he only knew due to the ache in his cheeks from the smile that he couldn’t repress. Love, light, freedom—in this life. Who would have thought it? Isak couldn’t comprehend the fractions that could have led to a different result, the mere motes of dust that separated this path and another. All the backbreaking physics that had gone to work to connect these dots, bring together their thoughts, and merge their skins, he’d never question or even try to understand. And so here they were: Spring, Sunday, sunlight, warmth. And hope above all else—Isak had almost forgotten the taste of it.
He arranged breakfast on the bedside table—the water and tea, the porridge and cut fruit—carefully and methodically, absorbing the refracted love that beamed on him. Coy to it, shy to its reach, but never in fear. This. This was where he belonged.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, perching on the edge of the bed and grabbing a pillow that had fallen on the floor. Gesturing for Even to sit forward, Isak used it to prop him up.
“I think so. I didn’t wake up in the night anyway.” He sighed as he settled back against the pillow. “It’s weird not to dream.”
Isak took the bowl first, waiting for Even to get comfortable before handing it to him. Once his hand was free, and Even cradled the bowl to his chest, stirring the contents, Isak pressed his knuckles to Even's forehead. A habit now, from the early days after being discharged when Isak worried over every long-held breath as Even slept, or if he took too long to stir. His immune system had been weak, and sniffles and colds and fevers were easily caught and less easily extinguished. But Isak liked it, to touch him, to feel the warmth of him. And Even put up with it.
“I guess that makes sense. You’ve been dreaming for almost half a year. I don’t suppose you need to do more of that for a while.”
Even took a mouthful of food, humming approvingly as he usually did, sparking a sense of accomplishment and pleasure in Isak. How could you feel so good by simply caring for another person? “That’s true. I kinda appreciate sleeping heavily.”
Maybe too heavy for Isak's liking, though he’d never say it. Isak had found it impossible not to worry when Even slept so deeply for so long, but the doctor said that was normal considering. And as long as Even woke up healthier by the day, content with his rest, Isak wouldn’t let a soul know that he sometimes stayed up all hours watching over him when he stayed over.
“I was talking to Sonja earlier. She’s coming down next month, so I said we’d do something.”
Even nodded, preoccupied with a healthy and growing appetite, going from the porridge to the fruit, to sips of water. “You know, I should find it weird—we should find it weird. All of us. But I don’t think it crosses my mind except when I realise how unfazed I am by everything.”
Isak smiled. “I guess we’ve all gone through too much to worry about the small stuff.” He wouldn’t pass on Sonja’s heavier thoughts that she’d shared. It was intimate, and if she wanted to confide those things in Even, Isak knew she would. They still had a right to privacy between them and from one another. Isak wouldn’t encroach.
“That’s true. How are your parents?”
“Good. They’re coming over later to drop some food off.”
Even put the almost finished porridge to one side and beamed. “I can’t wait. What did mum cook?”
Isak rolled his eyes. He should have known Even would charm his parents, and they were well and truly dazzled by him. His mum giggled and tucked strands of hair behind her ear if Even did so much as smile, and his dad went into full-on bro mode. Isak had never approached the subject of sports with Even before their waking reality, which, it turns out, was an oversight. Isak held zero interest in anything outside of football, but they talked boxing and olympics and tennis and blah blah blah. He could almost envy their easy connection if his apathy to all those things didn’t vastly outweigh anything else.
“I can bet on the fact that her famous stew will be one of the things she brings, and I know she was baking this morning. So some cake, too.”
“I hope she brings those little bread twists she does, with the olives.”
“I’m sure she will. Mum knows what you like by now.” Isak paused for a moment. “I told Eva about applying.”
Even focused on him, a warm hand travelling over cotton sheets to find Isak’s. Warmth bled bliss into Isak’s being. “How do you feel?”
“Maybe I should have told my parents first.”
Even shrugged. “I don’t think they're gonna compare notes, you can tell them later today.”
Isak nodded. “That’s true.”
“Do you still feel confident about it?”
Isak nodded again, stronger this time. There was no doubt in what he wanted to do, but he couldn’t diminish the nerves. Everything had begun again, a fresh start, but this step was monumental. “I’m sure.”
“As long as it’s what you want to do, in your heart. I know you’ll do amazing. And you’ll get your degree—first class honours—and you’ll probably go do a master's and then a PHD and then I can date Dr Valtersen.”
Isak couldn’t help but grin, heat in his cheeks. “Let’s wait until I get officially accepted first.”
Even shrugged. “I don’t think there’s much to worry about, but I’ll keep my excitement under wraps until you tell me it’s OK to shout about how smart my boyfriend is.”
The bliss burnt deeper still. These things that sounded so lovely to his ears always ran so smoothly from Even’s mouth; he was so easy with praise and acceptance of who they were, what they were to each other. It made it easier for Isak to be brave, in every sense of the word. If Even felt proud of what they accomplished together, Isak would stand right next to him.
“What about you?”
Even frowned. “What about me?”
“Once you’re all healthy and strong, won’t you wanna get back to what you wanted to do and travel? I mean, I’ll be right here waiting for you—don’t worry about that. I just figured, you know, you’d wanna do the things you wanted before.”
Even snorted a soft laugh and eased back against the pillow, never letting go of Isak's hand. “I’ve found what it was I was searching for, Isak,” he said simply.
Isak scoffed. “I’m serious. I’m happy to be flexible, do what we have to do, and support you and your dreams.”
The expression on Even’s face stilled and settled into seriousness. “Isak, if I’m gonna go see the world, I want you by my side. Yeah, I know there will be things we’ll do separately, but I have no plans to go anywhere. The thing I was missing, I know, was you. The thing that was gonna keep me sane, anchor me in life, give me meaning. It’s us.” He squeezed Isak's hand to punctuate his words.
A flood of giddiness surged in Isak’s stomach. Would he always feel so much with Even? So fulfilled and content? God, he hoped so. “Phew,” Isak let out a nervous laugh. “Cos I think I was acting braver about the thought of us being apart than I felt.”
Tugging his hand, Even urged Isak down against him. And Isak let himself be guided until his head lay on Even’s chest. “You don’t have to pretend to be anything with me, silly.” His fingers stroked through Isak's hair.
“I know,” he murmured.
“But I was thinking about what I wanna do and I’m gonna continue with my art, but balance it out with some part-time work. My aunt mentioned something about some virtual PA stuff she needs help with. What do you think?”
Isak nodded. “Sounds good.”
“And, um—“ Even hesitated for a moment. It was reassuring to know he wasn’t entirely confident in every area. “Are you still sure you don’t wanna move in?”
Isak had been back and forth between here and his old room at Eva’s and an even older one at his parents. Even had asked before, but Isak had said no, wanting to make sure there was some time, some space, that Even might need to recover within. Well, for them both. To go from nothing to everything seemed a little overwhelming. But months had passed, and it felt less daunting. “The only thing that’s a bit strange is… well, this place. I didn’t know it before the dream, and so, sometimes it’s weird to be here. Like I sometimes think, maybe I didn’t wake up.”
There was a moment of quiet, but Even didn’t stop his stroking. “I thought that might be weird for you. Perhaps we could look for a place together? Somewhere close to the university?”
Isak sat back and looked at Even. “Together?”
He nodded. “Properties are cheaper in the uni area, so what I get from this place will be more than enough to cover somewhere new.”
Isak worried his lip. “But I’d wanna go in half. I wanna pull my weight.”
“Sure. We can sit down and figure out a plan that works for us.”
“And maybe wait to see if I get accepted first,” Isak put in.
“Oh, I don’t have to worry about that. You’ll get in, Dr Valtersen.”
Isak smiled. It was incredible the faith those around him still held for him. And he hoped Even’s confidence in him rubbed off; it would be nice to be so certain about life. But Isak supposed that’s where they balanced each other out. Even was more on the dream big side of things, and Isak skirted the practical element of life.
“Eva was saying about a picnic tomorrow, near her mum's on the fjord. You feel up for it?”
“That would be nice,” Even mused, with no hesitation. It was reassuring to get to the point where Even both wanted to get out more and had the physical ability to take on that feat. They’d started with short walks that Even had hated simply because they outlined just how much work he’d need to put in to get his health back, but now they were at full day events that only needed a days recuperation on the other side. It was all progress, beautiful and solid progress.
A gentle lull settled, the sound of spring birds embellished the fresh cotton about them, and the gentle air flowed through them. Contentment and utter peace. It was hard to imagine just how different the world had felt a handful of months before, with the bleak loneliness that Isak couldn’t differentiate from memories before that time, when he knew he’d been happier. The bleak had tainted everything with a poison—just how heat and love now blurred life with sweetness, and Isak couldn’t comprehend living not tasting good anymore.
Life was odd that way.
Even took a breath, gathering a request that Isak knew was coming—it always appeared, every few days.
“Tell me the story again.”
Isak scoffed at the ask, but fondly. Even could challenge his mum at having magical, fantastical beliefs. “Once upon a time there was a three year old boy called Isak.”
Even laughed. “Oh we’re making it a fairytale now?”
“May as well,” Isak mused. “Anyway. This little three year old named Isak went with his mum one day to her friends. It was the only time they’d been to this friends house on a nice tree lined street, out of the city and up on the hills. She had a daughter the same age as Isak, and it just so happens, on the same road, there was a party. A very friendly neighbour—the party thrower in fact—invited Isak, his mum and her friend and daugher over to celebrate. It was a big one; people packed the house and garden out, the barbecue was on, beer and cake..”
Even nodded along in approval, but with a tinge of impatience. “And then what?”
Isak couldn’t help but grin. “So there was this boy that Isak met there. A bit older, but apparently a lot taller.”
Even laughed.
“And poor Isak left his friend and followed the boy around like a puppy. But the older boy didn’t mind. It got so busy, the older boy showed them through his aunts house, down to the small pool downstairs. Isak’s mum almost had a heart attack when she couldn’t find them, but the panic was short lived when the aunt knew where to go. And there the older boy was, teaching little Isak to swim.”
Isak paused and let the spring breeze flow around them.
“And little Isak didn’t shut up about his new friend for months and months, even though that would be the only time they ever met.”
Even’s arms tightened around him. “Until a dream.”
“Until a dream.”
A slow and content sigh eased out of Even. And although Isak would tease, the story—their story—brought him contentment, too. He wouldn’t go as far as his mum did with talk of destiny and angels and all that, but he did consider it at least a very lucky foretelling to his life. Who knows what would have happened to either of them if his mum hadn’t taken him to Eva’s that day?
“How are you dreams?” Even asked quietly.
Isak wrinkled his nose in thought. “Kinda normal now. Although it’s easy for me to wake up if you’re in them at any point , and you pop up a lot,” he scoffed. “It instantly snaps me out of the dream because I know it’s not real, because I guess you are too real to me now, and I wake up. But other than that, usually just weird happenings, nothing out of the ordinary.” And he did sleep now—good honest sleep, like never before.
“That’s a shame.”
Isak propped himself up on an elbow to look up at even. “A shame?”
“That you can’t dream of me anymore.”
Isak shook his head. “I spend most of my time otherwise thinking about you or with you. So don’t get jealous.”
“I kinda like feeling jealous over you.” Even smiled deep, eyes glistening. Isak loved him more than anything. More than himself. That should worry him, Isak supposed, but it didn’t. If this was his meaning, if this is what brought colour back to life, he wasn’t going to question it.
“I’m sure, after a while, things will fade and you’ll be in my dreams, too.”
“Good,” Even said with a perfunctory nod.
Isak reached out and pushed a lock of hair behind Even’s ear. He needed a haircut, again. “But even if that never happens, I don’t need dreams anymore.”