Ivar the Boneless/Alex Høgh Andersen

Two Strangers : Movies & Marriage (Modern!Ivar)

The heavy groan that rose from Ivar was impressive and startling, as he managed to somehow flop down on your couch. Leaning his head back onto the soft material, he closed his eyes and rubbed his stomach, a satisfied grin crossing his handsome face.

"That was amazing," He complimented, with another pat of his tummy. "I haven't ate like that since," Ivar paused trying to remember a meal that good, ever. "Well, I'm sure it was probably Helga who cooked it."

You nod in understanding, pulling off your socks and sinking down on the couch beside him. Ivar's boss was married to one of the best cooks that you'd ever met. Giving his tummy a final, dramatic pat, Ivar sighed in content.

"I shouldn't have had the third piece of pie, though. But how could I say no? Your mom may be a better cook than Helga."

"Not possible, but not impossible." You smile at the praise.

Resting his hand on your knee, Ivar turns his head to look at you, his eyes bright despite the jet lagged bags forming under them. "I had a good time, thank you gorgeous."

Any and all doubts Ivar previously had about your family were gone and squashed, after dinner. They had been kind, accepting, and genuine people. Ivar was another guest, in no way different – other than he was your boyfriend. Your mother had gushed over him, making sure he was at home while she kept filling his plate. Your father had been happy to sit and talk sports, cigars, and whatever else they had discussed in the living room when you weren't in ear shot.

"My parents love you," You gently slide your hand into his. "You do know that?"

"They're nice people, I should have just listened when you told me not to worry, but there is always that anxiety meeting the parents." Ivar winked. Shifting around to get comfortable, he furrowed his brow with a sudden thought. "If it isn't too much trouble, I want to return the favour."

"You mean we make them dinner?" If that was the idea, it was a great one. Your parents would be thrilled that Ivar wanted to spend more time with them.

"We can make them dinner, take them to dinner, I don't care. Whatever you think is best." Ivar didn't know your parents well enough to know which option would be more their style, which is why he would leave that detail to you and pick up once the choice was made.

"Mom has Wednesdays off, we can make dinner and have them here. They're going to love it." You lean over, kissing his cheek, wiping your lipstick away after the act.

"Good," Ivar continued excitedly, sitting up straighter. "I'm cooking. Point me to where everything is, then get out of my way." He laughed in a childish manner.

"Ivar, babe," You draw out the words, rolling your eyes. "You're my guest, you don't need to cook. Let me treat you."

"No way," Ivar gave a quick head shake, his dark hair swishing with the sudden jolt. "It's my treat, I insist. And next week," He leaned over giving you a soft kiss for emphasis, "will be 10 months since we've met. I'm taking you to dinner that night."

Ten whole months! It was crazy to think that ten months ago, you'd walked onto that plane and had Ivar sit next to you. Ten whole months wrapped up in this beautiful human being, literally and figuratively. Time really did fly when you were having fun.

Since Ivar was visiting, you had agreed to celebrate the ten month mark, not knowing if you'd be able to be together on the actual one year mark. An anniversary celebrated two months early was better than a FaceTime date on the actual day, not that the video chat date would be passed by, either way.

"You're too sweet," You whisper, leaning back into Ivar, your lips brushing his. Tugging at his bottom lip, fingers running through his soft hair, you feel the butterflies again. They had impeccable timing, soaring in whenever you and Ivar got too close.