Pills of love

Lay all your love on me (part 6)

Frida dropped onto the bed with her eyes closed, arms outstretched. A real image of relaxation and contentment. She slowly opened her eyes and smiled, staring at the roof for long seconds, her body begging her to stay that way until tomorrow, tired, but her mind telling her to move.

She sighed and sat up, tying the knot of the large towel that she had clutched to her chest. Benny had gone out to fill up the car and she had taken the opportunity to change the sheets on the bed and take a warm, relaxing shower. She chuckled silently as she thought back to a few hours ago.

As much as she sought relaxation in the little things like a hot shower, a sweet hot cocoa, a movie on TV covered with the softest duvet they had... There was nothing more relaxing than being with him. Tried and tested. He relaxed her when she was tense, played with her when she needed to laugh, teased her when he needed to work around her edges. He was a constant in all the moods of her day.

Not that everything was rosy. They had found out easily and very quickly, too.

He could make her angry like no one else in the world. God if he made her angry. For a while she had even believed that he was taking some kind of class to piss her off like that.

When he teased her when her nerves were on edge or when she needed silence and concentration and he wouldn't stop talking... Those were the moments when she wondered why it was important to share her independence with somebody else. Why hold someone accountable to her whereabouts when she was raised as a lone wolf?

A couple of months ago, for example, they'd had their first real, deep argument. Almost a real crisis. That looking back on it now, after some time, it seemed to her such an absurdly exaggerated story...

The kitchen had always been her realm. She loved to cook, it distracted her and centered her at the same time. When she was little, it had been her observation laboratory together with her grandmother. How many things she had learned and that she now could put them all to work. She loved to cook for Benny, to know his opinion of a dessert or dish she made. Seeing him smile contentedly at the end of a meal and hearing him say that everything was delicious.

He tried his hand in the kitchen too. Not that he was a regular, but sometimes he would think of some recipe from his mother that he wanted to taste again and locked himself inside for hours. Usually the results were all excellent, only the chaos of the creative phase was incredible.

A few months ago, she had wanted to prepare a series of Tilslørte Bondepiker. It was a dessert that her grandmother had taught her and handed down from their Norwegian origins. Nothing extravagant or difficult, but delicious and she loved it mostly for its aesthetic beauty. That day she had found herself in the kitchen to distract herself from a really bad day.

It was raining, Benny hadn't been able to drive her to work because he had to meet Stig and 'You should have told me earlier. I'm not at your disposal, you know?'. She still wondered how she hadn't thrown a shoe after him, but she was already late, so she ran out after vehemently thanking him and slamming the door and she walked all the way through the wind and pouring rain. And at work it had been chaos from the first to the last minute. During her lunch break, she'd seen Benny's call and some text messages on her cell phone, but she'd tactically ignored him after that morning. She had returned home still under the storm and, after a shower and putting on something warm, she had taken over the kitchen and told herself that she deserved a little prize. She didn't have too many ingredients, so she could only make a few samples of Tilslørte Bondepiker, but that would be enough.

Benny had returned home shortly after complaining about the weather and traffic and she had welcomed him with a cold shoulder, barely looking at him. He had told her that he had tried to reach her all afternoon to tell her that he would pick her up, but he understood that she was ignoring him and he didn't want to risk his head.