Begin Again [Alexander Skarsgard fan fiction]

Chapter One: Enchanted

Hi everybody! Quick Author's Note here before you start the story. I have always been fascinated in creating a playlist for my story in order to accurately express the emotions I'm feeling or my characters are feeling. I hope you relish in the cheesiness and fall in love alongside my characters too. Let me know what you think in the comment's bar! Song for this chapter is Enchanted by Taylor Swift. 

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Helena ripped the curtains apart, letting in sunlight of the early morning. With it, I became aware of the sounds of the morning and people getting ready in the flats below us. I shoved my head under the pillow, groaning.

"Wake up, child." I heard Helena laugh, "It's exactly two months until you get to go home, let's enjoy our last few weeks together."

I sighed, though inaudibly, content in the big feather bed. Helena was my mom's step-mom, but they were so close that we treated her like a grandmother. For the past three years I had been studying history abroad and living in her tiny flat in Stockholm, Sweden. During that time I had visited several European countries to learn ancient history and I was already feeling down that it was almost time to return home. Lena's flat was Americanized, since she moved back here after 30 years in America after my grandfather – her husband, had died, as well as my mom a few years ago.

I heard her leave, and threw the pillow off me and heard the dull thump of it hitting the floor. I groaned, rolling over and staring at the ceiling. Helena was in the kitchen, which was outside of my room, and I could smell the porridge. I knew there would be berries waiting too, along with a thermos of coffee and a glass of milk. Stretching, I forced myself to get out of the welcoming embrace of the bed and walked into the closet sized bathroom, settling on my long blonde hair swirling around me and no make-up. I had class today. I rarely wore make up whenever it involved going to work or class. Too much effort, and way too expensive. My blue eyes were as tired as I felt, but my five page essay on the Vikings was one of the best I had ever written. Dawning a regular light gray t-shirt and ripped jeans, I dressed fairly quickly and pulled on a pair of sandals before joining Lena for breakfast.

"Sleep well, honey?" She asked, placing the thermos down next to my school bag. Her accent was all but gone, but I knew she could speak in her native language just as fluently as she had before she left for America.

"Yeah, Gran. Thank you." Lena preferred I called her gran, and sometimes I did too.

"Oh, darling child. I am going to miss you terribly whenever you go back to America. How is it that it's already been 3 years?" Lena didn't look at me as she wiped her eye, running the sink water over her already eaten breakfast.

I stared at my plate, trying hard not to let the feeling in my throat choke me up too much. "Oh, Gran..." I sighed, thinking of my family back in the states.

My siblings all lived in Palo Alto, California. From oldest to youngest was Clint, then me, Lorna, Marjorie, and then Augustine. I hadn't seen them in 3 years – travelling was expensive, but I was eager to finally get to hug my family again.

I took a bite of the strawberries waiting for me, then dipped the rest in the porridge as I finished breakfast fairly quickly. Lena's cat Shank mauled my foot as I tried to leave, and I barely made the bus before it squealed away. That was the typical morning.

Class was my favorite part of the day. I loved learning, and history was one of my favorite subjects. It was so subjective, so crucial, yet you could only believe parts of it. Winners always wrote history, and I often found myself daydreaming about lost civilizations and those who didn't survive to tell their tales. All too soon, classes were over, and I was back on the bus on the way into the bustling city.