13th of September 2014
>I'm sure of it<
>It's physically not possible<
>I dare to disagree!<
>Seriously Tory, it can't have stopped^^<
>I hate it, when you call me Tory...<
>That's exactly why I'm doing it ;) <
>...and the clock has stopped!<
Torstein sighed and leaned back. The bus rolled some meters and stopped again. He groaned.
>I'm never going to go somewhere ever again. I'm going to die in this bus!<, he typed into his phone.
>Man up. People have been riding slow buses before you<
The Norwegian rolled his eyes. He shifted in his seat, which started to get uncomfortable. Next to him was a man, who was big. Like really, really big. Like too-big-for-bus-seats-big.
>I can't believe, I am in Germany, while you're not there<
>Yes. Because we constantly meet in Germany ...<
They didn't. Of course they didn't. Hannah was busy working with homeless people 40 hours a week at Edinburgh, while he travelled the world. It has been two month since they crashed into each other in Oslo and surprisingly, they stayed in contact for more or less the whole time. Hannah was the best dude a guy could wish for. Since she wasn't interested in him and didn't care about his success at snowboarding, she was just a straight friend with tons of humour and the girl bonus. At the last two parties he could get a girl, because she was navigating him through the crowd of chicks. Via phone.
>How do I ask the guy next to me to let me out of the seat in German?<
>Entschuldigen Sie, könnte ich bitte Ihre Kekse zum rauchen benutzen?<
He read the text with the shittiest pronunciation on earth. When he looked up, the man made a face as if a thunder was over his head.
>I didn't asked him, if he could move, didn't I....?<, Torstein made a grimace.
>No you didn't^^ <
>Hannah....<
>hand him the phone<
Torstein did as told and when the man read was Hannah wrote to him he moved with a grumpy face. With a "thanks" Torstein made his way to the small toilet of the traveller bus. How on earth could his friend Thomas convince him to take the bus to Frankfurt to get his plane? He hated Frankfurt already, it was the most crowded, biggest and disorganised airport in the whole wide world and when someone like him said that, it has to mean something.
When he made his way back to his seat, he threw a glance out of the bus. Not a single car in front of them or next to them were moving. It was a fucking, frustrating traffic jam. He growled.
He was in a bad mood already, even before he entered the bus. Couple of days ago he came back from the first stop of the Dew Tour, after he went to training in Canada since his season opening at the New Zealand Open sucked. Like really. He didn't even made it to the finals. There were bad competitions before, but this time it was like the flow he usually felt on the board wouldn't come. Something felt off.
Yesterday, Torstein had an interview in Hamburg for a sports magazine, which wanted to make a six page report about him. Right now, he was on his way to the Frankfurt Airport to go to France, where his DC office was located. Some business stuff and some practice were waiting for him. He hasn't seen Norway for 5 weeks and the need for a break became obvious, even for him. The off season wasn't as relaxing as planned, since he had some filming to do for two of his sponsors and he was currently working on another project on his own as well. AWSM as the business company he was running with his buddy Andreas Wiig starts to pay off, but is a lot of effort as well, since they're still doing it on their own. Some of other snowboarders, skaters and skiers were involved too, but the main management was done by him and Andreas.
When he finally arrived at Frankfurt Airport his flight to France was long gone. With an exhausted sighed he sat on his snowboardbag and looked at the flight table.
+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
It was 7 o'clock in the morning and Hannah was tired. She had a night shift at the emergency shelter and headed back to the house of the volunteers. The house is the home for the total of 10 volunteers from all over the world, which meant that it was always crowded, loud and funny. When she entered the house, it became obvious that no one else was awake though. All of them were working in shifts, so there was a regular coming and going. Slowly she made her way up to the stairs. When she opened the door to her room, she stopped in her tracks. Someone was already lying in her bed.
"What the heck...?!"
Her handbag glided to the ground. She argued with herself if she should throw the intruder out of the bed, but that would involve to wake him up, have a conversation and argue about possible sleeping arrangements and she was way too tired for this. Without a second thought she changed into her sleeping shorts and a tank top.
"Move", she whispered and after tapping him on the shoulder, Torstein shifted a little. The bed was small, but some miracle (probably the exhaustion) made it easy to fall asleep.
4 hours later
"You're way to warm...", mumbled Torstein and kept his eyes close, still halfway asleep.
"And you're way to tall, but do you hear me complaining?", was the answer next to him, which sounded as sleepy as he still felt. He couldn't help but snicker though.
The Norwegian opened his eyes slowly. He was lying on his side, back to the wall, head next to Hannahs, who was lying on the back, her legs thrown over his.
"Don't take this personally", the German girl said, while she started to open her eyes and shifted a little, so she had more of the blanket, which meant more heat next to Torstein, "but why are you in my bed?"
She turned her head and looked straight into his eyes.
"Now, we're even", was the simple answer.
Hannah smiled at that, leaned back into the pillow and closed her eyes again.
"I'm so tired", she whispered and put her left arm over her eyes.
"I'm not quite sure, but I think I can't feel my legs...I need to move", he started to stir.
"No way", Hannah stated. Her bed was already to small to fit the two of them, barely one meter broad and moving was impossible.
Torstein dared to move anyway, which nearly pushed her off the bed. He grabbed Hannah by her waist before she could fell and for ten seconds it were just limbs everywhere. In the end, he laid on his back, Hannah kinda sprawled halfway over him. Since she didn't know where else to put her head, she just leaned it on his shoulder. She could feel his heart beating and his beard itching a little on her forehead..
It should feel awkward. It didn't though.
The room became quiet again and both drifted into their thoughts.
"Are you all right?", Hannah asked after a moment of silence. Torstein nearly fell asleep again and he quickly opened his eyes now.
"Yeah, why would you ask?"
He could feel how she shrugged her shoulder.
"It seems a bit rushed...to crush on my bed. I don't mind though, but, you know...I'm just wondering."
A few seconds past before he answered. "I feel a bit off."
"Why?"
"Because you start to get a British accent."
She hit him hard on the chest and he laughed. He took the hit as an invitation to tickle her and three seconds later it were just giggles, limbs and huffed noises. When Torstein finally fell of the bed, legs still rested on it, he just stayed their and tried to catch his breath. Hannah looked over the edge with a grin.
"Your awake now?", he asked.
"Absolutely."
"Ready to show me the city?"
Like I promised here is the next chapter in advance - I hope it was more entertaining :)
