First Frost (ONC 2023 Novella, MxM Paranormal)

15: Frozen In Time

With limbs still chattering from my excursion into snowy madness, I roll into the street where my sister lives, parking her car between two snow piles. The night is dark and quiet as I step outside the vehicle. No one is roaming the streets in this weather, neither by foot nor by vehicle.

Snow still flutters in the air while I run the few blocks toward my own apartment, surmising that Ida's kids will be asleep already so it's better I return her car keys tomorrow. The precipitation isn't hostile as before but rather a friendly trickle, to remind us city folk of the grandeur of nature. The flakes are big and soft, appearing as embroidery against my black jacket before melting softly into the fabric.

I can't believe it was only about twenty-four hours ago that Anton and I walked these streets together, heading toward the club that became our downfall. The ground was still free from snow and the possibilities still endless. We'd laughed and jabbed at each other, like guys do, pretending that we didn't harbor the same secret desires while sharing a bottle of vodka mixed with cranberry juice. Since club drinks are expensive, we had to fuel up beforehand.

Wasting no time, I take the stairs up to my apartment two steps at a time. Anton has to be waiting for me outside. If he went to Stockholm to see me, that's where he'll be.

He has to be there. He has to. Has to. The words echo between the walls every time my soles hit the stone below.

Has to. Has to. Has to.

I come around the rounder corner to gaze upon a hallway that haunts me with its emptiness. No blonde tresses of hair mussed by hat-wearing. No wide shoulders leaning against the dark wooden door. No winning smile greeting me and making my heart wobble.

Anton isn't here.

In frustration, I kick the door, making my toes ache despite the frosty numbness.

Of course, Anton's not here. He's not anywhere. It seems to be my fate to ever find him again. He's blown away by the storm caused by my wretched mind. I am the cause and victim of my own carelessness.

Out of options and hope, I locate my key in the jacket pocket and slide the door open. Anton isn't here either. Not that I expected him to be, as he has no key, but somewhere deep down I still harbored hope that he would be waiting on my bed.

The apartment appears frozen in time since this morning. The bed is unmade. Yogurt and crackers are still on the counter. The windows are still covered by a thin sheet of ice, reminding me that everything that has happened is real.

I should eat. I should shower. I should sleep. Perhaps those things would help me process the events of the last twenty-four hours. Or I would wake up, well-nourished and sparkly clean, to the realization that it was all a dream.

But I don't want it to be. I don't want to undo anything that has happened. Because taking away the difficult parts would also erase Anton's kisses and I don't ever want those to disappear.

I retie my boots and zip up my jacket again, turning my back on the comfort of my home. If Anton is out there somewhere, looking for me, I need to find him. I at least have to give it one more try.

My whole body shivers as I once again brave the cold. My feet hurt from a day of walking through snow piles. My head hurts from dehydration. My fingers tingle from the newfound power flowing within.

None of it matters. Only Anton is important.

The city shimmers in moonlight, the snow illuminating the dark night sky. Gone are storm clouds and wind gusts. Only sparkling diamonds of frost remain. My breath becomes a fog before me with every exhale, making the city appear as if I look through the bottom of a glass.

Entering Medborgarplatsen, memories of last night blast against my chest, not unlike the blistering winds of frosty origin. Warm lips exploring mine. Wandering hands patting my jacket. Glittering eyes gazing only at me.

I understand now that this is where the storm was born. My hidden heritage was ignited by frozen kisses, encapsulated by whirling winds of freedom. Anton woke the frost within me and he's the only one who can quell it again.

The snow angels we made last night are gone, covered by a sheet of untrodden powder. All traces of our romance are hidden.

I walk through the snow, relishing in the sensation of stepping on undiscovered land. I feel like Neil Armstrong, stepping where no man has before. I suppose no one has, as no one has ever trodden on this unique patch of snow.

All alone in the middle of the square, I raise my arms. The snow dances around me. Not threatening but alluring. I can control it now, creating whirling shapes in the air. Children playing. Trees rustling in the wind. A cabin between forest and water. Sofia's blond curls cascading like a waterfall. The frost giant trying to make me do its bidding.

Anton. Taking my hand and pulling me onto the dance floor as a familiar song starts to play.

Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while

Heaven can wait, we're only watching the skies

Hoping for the best but expecting the worst

"Joakim."

The voice comes from beyond the curtain of snow. It's a voice I've been waiting to hear.

I drop the dancing swirls of snow, making a cloud of white appear. When it clears, I see him standing there. Tangled hair sticking out from under his hat and jacket wet from snowfall.

I blink to assure myself he's not a mirage or dream. When I open my eyes his glittering smile still remains.

Anton is here.