Threshold [Vesa/Suvi]
Aug. 6th, 2017 04:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Threshold
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairing: OCs; Vesa/Suvi, + Niko is there too.
Rating: 0+*
Length: 6.3k
Summary: Nearly a year has passed. Still, he keeps coming to her door, and letting the light in.
Other: *Contains references to death/depression/grief, but nothing too heavy.
I'll probably write about some of the events referenced here at some point, but it's going to have to wait for another time.
Threshold
The knock on the door was the same as always. Three short raps, and then he let himself in.
Suvi stirred in her bed, and didn't open her eyes. She listened to the sound of Vesa moving in the other room. The soft thud of his feet. The floorboards creaking. The click of metal as he put the kettle on the stove.
Footsteps coming toward the bedroom. She waited. He knocked on her door.
"Suvi?"
She pressed her face into the pillow and didn't answer.
"Suvi, I –" Pause. "I'm running late, and I can't stay. I'm sorry."
And he did sound sorry, Suvi thought.
She waited. Listened. She could hear a sound behind the door; a hesitant, anxious intake of breath.
"I... After work, I'll come by for a little while. Okay? But you'll have to wake yourself up today."
The door to the bedroom opened, and sunlight spilled from the kitchen into her room, warming her eyelids.
Suvi didn't move.
"We're going to be busy today. That's why I was called in early."
She knew that if she tilted her head and opened her eyes a little, if she just looked over, she'd see Vesa standing there in her doorway.
"I've put the kettle on for you." Another pause, another second of hesitation. The floorboards creaked as his weight shifted, as if he was going to take one step forward. And then they creaked again as he retreated, thinking better of it, maybe.
"I really need to go. I'm sorry – I'll be late if I don't." Then the footsteps moved away from her room, a quick thud of boots on the wooden floor. He was already rushing. "Tell Tarmo good morning for me," he called to her as he opened the front door.
The door closed. He was gone.
Suvi rose from the bed. Stepped through the bedroom door, past the stove, through the kitchen. Went to the window and peered through the parted curtains.
He was walking away from her, heading down toward the station at the shore, his hands up to tie back his golden hair as he went.
She watched him go until he was out of sight.
When she turned away from the window and looked toward the kitchen table, she saw what Vesa had left there. There was a loaf of bread, as usual. But beside that, he had left a bundle of yellow flowers, tied together with grasses. And a plush animal.
Suvi picked the stuffed animal up and squeezed it. The cloth it was made of was worn, faded, and soft. She couldn't quite tell what kind of animal it was supposed to be, but it was made with care, the stitches neat and tidy. Its wooden bead eyes stared up at her.
She turned to look toward the window again, looking down the path to where Vesa had disappeared from view, slipping past the nearest building. She wished she could see him coming back to her, the morning sunlight glinting on his hair, his cheeks flushed as he rushed back to her to tell her that there had been a mistake, that he wasn't needed today, or at least not right now. That he was free until the afternoon, and he would like to stay for a while, if she didn't mind.
The kettle whistled.
She put the stuffed animal down and went to make tea.
How long had it been?
Suvi cupped her mug in her hands, waiting for it to cool. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she looked tiredly at Vesa's yellow flowers. She'd put them in a tall glass and set them on the kitchen table in the sunlight.
When had she started to expect him every day? When had she started to count on hearing his voice, and his footsteps on her kitchen floor, and the sound of him knocking on the door to her bedroom to wake her up in the morning?
She couldn't remember.
What she could remember was the one time she had decided to confront him about it. She had caught him as he was about to leave, and sat him down, and looked him in the eye. She remembered asking him why he was doing this. Telling him that she wasn't his responsibility. Telling him that he didn't have to.
And he had looked up at her, and said that he wanted to.
That had been months ago. There had been snow on the ground when he said that, when she'd asked him and he'd given her that simple answer. The days had been short and dark and cold. And even after that, he kept coming, with his loaves of bread and his morning greetings and his soft blue eyes.
She ached inside.
It was different from the hollowness she had felt in the beginning. That emptiness, that absence, that hole left behind when Raimo had been wrenched away from her. That felt like the space left by an extracted tooth, bloody and raw.
This was different.
Suvi rose from the table and took up the plush animal. She went to where her son slept, wrapped up in his blankets, and put it beside him.
Closing her eyes, she thought again to what he had said before he left, that soft and nervous and ever–so–earnest voice coming to her through her bedroom door.
Tell your son good morning for me. That was what he had said. And she knew that if he had been able to stay, he would have done it himself – and not only because it was polite, but because he wanted to.
The ache inside of her throbbed. And something else moved, too. Something she had been trying to ignore for some time now, even though it kept coming into the light, popping up when she least wanted it.
There was someone she needed to talk to.
Niko was one of those people who never stayed in one place for long. He was always switching shifts, or changing occupations, bobbing his way throughout the village as he moved from one job to another. When last they had worked together, he'd been on days, one of the mages following alongside her company of hunters. But a year ago, he had switched to night patrol. Temporarily, he had said. Just needed a change. A breath of fresh air.
She didn't need to ask him why. Change was what she needed, herself.
Today, she wasn't sure if she would catch him. But it was early enough in the day, Suvi thought as she looked out the window. Maybe he would still be awake after coming off from his work. And if he wasn't – well. If she couldn't talk to Niko, it would be enough to have a talk with her grandmother, as long as she didn't get quite to the specifics of the matter. It would help her organize her thoughts, even if she couldn't address the everything that was weighing on her mind.
"Come on, finish your breakfast. We're going to Grandmother's house." Those words worked on her son, even when others wouldn't have managed to get him going. After that, it took almost nothing to get Tarmo stuffed into his light jacket and boots and ready to go.
The air still had the cool touch of early morning when they stepped outside and made their way to that familiar house, dew dampening their boots.
After a quick rap on the door, Suvi swept in, calling out in greeting. She was caught with the familiar scent of herbs and wood and beeswax. Peering through to the kitchen, she caught sight of exactly the person she was looking for.
Niko sat at the kitchen table, his eyes tired and drooping, a mug of tea cupped in his hands. He looked as if he might collapse face–first into it. His uniform jacket was still draped over his shoulders, as if he hadn't even had the energy to take it off. But as he lifted his head to look at who had arrived, his expression brightened a bit.
"Oh, hi, Suvi! Here to see Grandmother? She's out around the back, in the garden."
"Actually, I'm here to see you." Her cousin's brows arched as she said that, and Suvi couldn't blame him for that. "Do you have a minute?"
"...Sure." Niko hesitated, then gave her a nod. "Yeah, that's okay." He looked more awake, at the very least, even if there was a good amount of confusion to go with it.
"Thanks. I promise that I won't take up much of your time. I know you need to get to bed soon." She turned to her son, reaching down to smooth his hair. "You should go to show Grandma your new teddy. Okay?"
Tarmo didn't need any more prompting than that, and in a moment, the two of them were alone.
There was still some tea left in the kettle.
Niko poured some into a lidded mug for her, and handed it over. Then he stepped into his boots. "I hope you don't mind if we take this outside," he said, his voice cheerful in spite of the tired, heavy–lidded set to his eyes. "Just a bit of a walk, you know. It'll be easier for me to stay awake that way."
They stepped outside into the pleasantly cool air and the scent of grass and flowers. It would be a while before the sun would be high in the sky. In the garden behind the house they could hear her son talking to their grandmother, their voices rising and falling, the words indistinguishable.
Together, they made their way along one of the quiet paths behind Niko's home. With shift change already complete, they were unlikely to encounter anyone, and for that Suvi was grateful.
Through the trees, they could see the lake glittering.
Niko didn't say anything. Normally, he was so chatty – almost too much. But now he was quiet, and seemed to be waiting for Suvi to tell him why she had come to see him, of all people. They both knew that he wouldn't ordinarily be her first choice of someone to confide in.
Suddenly the weight of the question seemed so much heavier than it had been that morning.
Suvi thought of the teakettle, and the yellow flowers, and the careful knocking on her door.
"I want you to tell me about Vesa Tikkanen. What kind of person is he?"
"What?" The word came out immediately, but only a second later, Niko smiled. "Oh, Vesa... well, you've worked with him. You know he's pretty good at –"
"Oh – no. I didn't mean what he's like on the job." How to say it? "I mean... you know him better than anyone else, don't you?"
"Well, sure. He's my best friend."
"Okay." Suvi took a deep breath. Why did it feel so strange to ask about this? To ask someone about him, even if that someone was a family member? "So, tell me about him. Anything. Whatever you can think of."
Niko quieted for a moment. Glanced at her, as if to ask whether this was really important. Then he hummed softly, looking skyward as he tried to think of something. "Well... He's a good guy. I mean, it takes a while to get to know him; he's shy, you know. But he's always been a good friend to me. Sure, he doesn't talk much... I mean, less than most people. But I wouldn't spend time with him if I didn't like him, you know? And..." Niko paused, glancing at her. "You do understand that he's a man, right?"
It took her a moment to figure out what he meant. "Of course. I thought everyone knew about that."
"You'd be surprised." Niko sighed. "Let's stop here, okay? I need to think."
They stopped together. There was a break in the trees, giving a view of the glittering lake. For a moment they looked out over the lake in silence, and Suvi tried to ease her nerves by drinking from the covered mug in her hands. She hardly tasted her tea.
In the past year, she had spent very little time with her cousin. They had never been close to begin with, not even before Raimo's death, but there had been a large part of her that hadn't wanted to talk to him, hadn't wanted to see him at all. She was uncomfortable. Even the air felt close, stifling.
"Why do you want to know about him, anyway?"
She thought about lying. She decided that it was best not to. "Because he's been coming to see me regularly ever since... you know," she said, not looking at him.
"Still? I mean, he came with me to see you a few times after Raimo died, sure, but –"
"He still comes by, Niko. In the mornings, before work." She didn't want to talk about the knocks on her bedroom door. "He puts the tea on for me."
"Hmm..."
Suvi glanced at her cousin. He looked thoughtful, but not troubled, his warm eyes soft as he looked out over the water.
"I guess the thing is," Niko said slowly, "Do you want him to visit you?"
"Just tell me what you think he means by all this."
"I don't know. I mean – he's never done anything like this before. Not that it ever came up, but.... maybe he's just trying to be nice. You know? Maybe he thinks you need help." Niko sighed, and looked down at the mug in his hands. "I mean, our family helped him out when he lost his aunt, right? So it isn't that weird that he'd want to lend you a hand. Since... you know. He was there."
Suvi thought to the morning, and to the other mornings before, over the past year. The knock on her door. The soft, hesitant words. The shy look he gave her when she did bother to wake and join him, pouring cups of tea before he left for work. The way he blushed, sometimes, when trying to speak to her.
"He left me flowers this morning."
"...Oh."
"But maybe he just –" Suvi grasped for something, anything that would explain it. "Maybe he thought they would brighten up the room."
"Sure." Niko didn't sound convinced. "Do you want that to be the reason?"
"I don't know." This is stupid, Suvi thought. Whatever help she thought Niko would be, he wasn't in the least. She had half a mind to thank him for his time and go. But there was one more thing, one thing that she could ask, and maybe he'd have a straight answer to that. "Be clear with me, here. Do you trust him?"
At that, Niko gave her a broad smile, as if he was relieved that she finally had a question that he wouldn't have to dance around. "Yes," he said. "Absolutely."
"Really?"
"Really. I'd trust him with my life." There must have been something in her expression, because he went on – "Look, I know his aunt was... well, she didn't have a, um, good reputation, but Vesa isn't like that. He's reliable. And he has a cool head. And... with these flowers and stuff, if you want him to back off, then he will, if you tell him to."
"I see." That was good, at least. "...Thanks."
They made their way back to the house in silence. Suvi considered her cousin's words carefully. She didn't know Niko well enough to be sure whether he was a good judge of character, but he had been so adamant that Vesa was trustworthy, and that was something.
Niko cleared his throat. Suvi glanced at him.
"I guess it's just... I know this is none of my business. But it depends on what you decide you want." He yawned, then continued. "If you don't tell him to go, I think he'll do the best he can to make you happy. That's the kind of person he is."
Suvi thought of all the mornings when he showed up unasked to wake her up and make sure she didn't spend the entire day in bed, pretending the world didn't exist. The knocking on her bedroom door. The loaves of bread on her kitchen table. The sound of the tea kettle.
"I'll think about it," she said, and left it at that.
It was a while before she left her family's house. For a few hours, she stayed, and joined her grandmother and her son out back, working in the vegetable garden, accompanied by the low hum of her grandmother's beehive. Niko, yawning, wished all of them a good day, and slipped inside the house to collapse into his bed.
Her grandmother looked at her, but didn't ask what she and her cousin had been talking about, even though she knew – and Suvi knew that she knew – that a visit to talk to Niko wasn't typical of her.
"Are you feeling well?" her grandmother asked, brushing the soil from her hands as she spoke in that familiar, firm, knowing voice.
Suvi thought about it. "Yes," she said. And that was true.
"Good." Her grandmother nodded, then handed her a trowel. "Lend a hand here, then."
And so they spent that time in silence, except for when that silence was interrupted by Tarmo's chattering. It gave Suvi plenty of time for her to turn Niko's words over in her head, to think carefully about what he had said. What it could mean. What she should do about it all.
Suvi didn't have an answer at the end. That wasn't what she had hoped for, but it was what she had expected. When finally she left, grasping her son's hand, she wondered if there had even been much of a point in trying to get a useful answer out of Niko in the first place.
But even if she didn't have answers, he had given her some things to think about, and that was better than nothing.
Maybe it hadn't been a complete waste of time.
Suvi pushed the curtains open, letting in the afternoon sunlight. Opened the door to let in the fresh air and shake out the rugs. She went through with the broom, sweeping everything out, out, out.
One more month of this, she thought. One more month of leave, and then she would have to go back. She remembered her superior officer's calm, even voice when they met to discuss the matter two months ago.
"We'll get you trained up again," Ilta had said. "And then you'll be assigned to clearance support for a while. Just until you find your feet."
Clearance support, Suvi thought wearily as she swept the dust from the corners of her house. A far different job than what she'd been doing before. It meant helping to go back through already–cleansed areas, picking through the places where anything might be hiding. She wasn't being demoted, strictly speaking. It was important work; of course it was. And it was challenging in its own way. But it wasn't her old position, and it didn't carry the same risk that working out in the field did, and it would be impossible to put her life back into the same shape it had been in before.
She remembered how Ilta had looked at her, understanding etched into the lines of her face. "It's just for this season," she said, sliding the paperwork across the desk so Suvi could read the details of where she would be assigned. "Next year, everything will be back to normal. You'll be back with your unit before you know it. In the meantime, a little change will be good for you, I think."
In response to all that, Suvi could say nothing. Arguing wouldn't do her any favours. And maybe, she thought later, as she read through the details of her assignment in the comfort of her kitchen, maybe it was coming from a place of experience. Ilta had lost a husband, too. And a wife as well, in fact. If anyone knew what this was like, she would be the one.
That didn't make it hurt any less.
Suvi straightened, sighing as she leaned the broom against the wall. There was a photograph on the mantelpiece, and she had been avoiding it from the moment she had started cleaning. When she stopped to actually think about it, she realized that this was ridiculous. "Complete foolishness," she muttered as she took up a rag, and turned to face it.
She picked it up in her hands. Wiped the dust from the glass and frame. Finally, she steeled herself, and looked at the picture.
It was the first time she had looked at it in ages. Before, the photograph had been on her bedside table. After what had happened a year ago, she had been unable to stand looking at it; but she couldn't stand the thought of putting it into storage, either. The thought of packing it away in her trunk made her feel sick. The mantle, it had seemed, was a good enough compromise. Somehow, taking it out of her bedroom was good enough.
Suvi looked down and traced the familiar lines of Raimo's face with the edge of the rag. Slowly, she brushed it along the sharpness of his cheeks, his narrow chin. It had been ages since she had seen those broad shoulders, those gentle eyes. And there she was beside him, looking so much younger, and so happy, and so unworried about anything in the world.
Had it been a year? She thought about it. Almost a year. Nearly. And the hurt wasn't as raw as it had been even half a year ago, but it was still there, curled up deep inside of her like a small furry animal.
"What would you think of this?" she murmured, staring down at Raimo's face. What would he have thought of it? After considering it for a moment, Suvi decided that he would have understood, or at least he would have sympathized with, how hard it was to move on, and how much she wanted to do it. That was the sort of person he was.
But was this the right way? The right person to do it with? Suvi turned her head a little to look over at the kitchen table, where the flowers stood in their old glass vase, their colours bright in the sunlight.
Maybe it was. It wouldn't hurt to ––
"Mom! Mom? Moo–ooom, what are you doing? Mom? Mom!"
Suvi sighed and placed the photograph back on the mantelpiece.
He was there right when she expected him.
Suvi looked out the window, its curtains still pushed open to let in the light. There Vesa was, coming up the path to her house. He had changed from his hunter's uniform into the simple clothing he always wore when off duty, and his hair was down, spilling in loose gold waves over his shoulders.
She went out to meet him.
Vesa's face brightened when he saw her.
"Sorry I couldn't stay long this morning," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. "I would have liked to, but –– well, you know."
"That's all right," Suvi said, smoothing out her apron, suddenly wishing that she had taken the time to hide the evidence that she'd spent the afternoon cleaning. "Thanks for getting me up, all the same." And for the bread, she thought. And the flowers. And the gift for my son.
"It's no trouble. Your house is on the way, so I..." He seemed to be trying to grasp for a word, but was unable to find it, and gave up. "You look well. I'm glad."
"I had a good day." And that was the truth, in more ways than one. As she looked at him, tilting her head up a bit to look him in the eyes, she could see that he knew what she meant. There was earnest understanding on that gentle face. And something else, too. She just wasn't sure what. Acceptance, maybe. Or understanding.
Niko's words swept back to her, and she remembered the way he'd spoken about Vesa, and all that confidence and trust. If you don't tell him to go, he'll do the best he can to make you happy.
"You're welcome to stay for supper, if you'd like. You haven't eaten yet, have you?"
Vesa's eyes widened in surprise. "I – well, no, I was going to go have it at the communal hall. Are you sure?"
Suvi made a face. "Down there? I know what they serve down there. It isn't fit for anybody. Yes, stay. Have some real food. We'd be happy to have you."
As easily as that, she invited him in.
At first, Suvi felt her insides twisting at the thought of having him so near. It was one thing for him to come into her house in the morning with the simple goal of hauling her out of bed so that she wouldn't stay in it all day. It was another thing to invite him in, and for a moment she wondered if she shouldn't have said anything at all.
That feeling disappeared not long after Vesa stepped into her house, only a little while after he crossed the threshold.
It was if he belonged there.
He kept her son out of the way while she made dinner. The two of them got along well. Every previous time that Vesa had come by when Tarmo was awake, her son greeted him with curiosity and enthusiasm. This time wasn't different from the others. Her son responded in her family's language to all of Vesa's questions in Finnish, and the two of them carried on even though neither could understand a word the other was saying. Suvi held back a smile as she listened to them.
Supper was simple. Tea. Fish. Vegetables from the garden. But as she promised, it was better than what anyone would get from the communal cafeteria. And while she couldn't be sure, Suvi had a feeling that Vesa didn't miss the conversation he'd usually hear at the hunter's table, either.
She asked, and received, details of what was happening in the field.
His voice was light, soft, easy on her ears. He was hesitant at first, but Suvi nudged him, gently coaxed him to keep him talking. Asked him about clearance support. Asked him about the progress along the southern bank. About what was being done about all those nests they'd discovered along the north side of the lake. And as she asked, he eased up a little, until the words poured out of him easily, like warmed honey.
But eventually, he didn't have any words left, and she had to offer her own.
"I'll be back to work soon," she said, pouring the last of the tea. "My time off is almost up."
"Oh?" Something crossed his face. A startled expression that she couldn't quite read.
"Yes. Next month."
Vesa quieted for a moment, considering this. "So you won't need me to wake you up in the mornings, then...?"
He said it as if the possibility that she wouldn't need his help disappointed him. As if there was nothing he wanted more than to come by in the morning and knock on her door.
"I guess not. It'll be easier to get up once I'm back in the habit, when I know that I can't sleep in as much as I like." A petal from Vesa's flowers had dropped onto the table. Suvi picked it up, brushing over its softness with the pad of her thumb. She pretended not to look at Vesa, but she kept him in the edge of her sight. There was a look that he was trying to hide; something almost despondent.
Say it, she told herself. Say what you want to say.
Somehow, the words found their way to her mouth. "Just because I don't need you to do it doesn't mean you have to stop."
"I... can keep coming, then. If you want me to."
"I do want you to." She lifted her gaze again. Looked him straight in the face. "I like that you wake me up every morning."
Was that a blush spreading over his cheeks? Yes. And a smile, a slight tug at the corner of his lips. Then he let his gaze drop, murmuring a soft, "Okay, I can do that."
She wanted to stand up and walk over to him. Reach down to tilt his head up and make him look at her. To ask him, point blank, why he kept coming to see her.
But she couldn't.
Wouldn't. Not yet. Not right now. She liked the way that he looked, and she didn't want to upset him with awkward questions. She had a feeling that she knew what the answer would be, anyway.
Later, they sat outside together in the golden evening light.
She'd made more tea, in part because it went well with the oatcakes she'd made that afternoon. The other reason was because she wanted to keep him there. Get him to stay for a little while longer. Have another cup, she thought. Stay for another.
They'd both run out of words, but Vesa didn't seem to mind her silence. After they poured out their talk to the dregs, what was left was contentment. Suvi watched him out of the corner of her eye, taking in his gentle, relaxed expression, and the warmth that flitted across his face as he watched her son play with the cat.
A year ago, it would have been Raimo there, sitting right next to her. It should have been Raimo now. The thought was like an ache.
Vesa was almost entirely unlike him.
But maybe that was all right, Suvi thought, turning her head a little to watch him more closely, and take in the sight of the sunlight on his hair.
Maybe she could get used to this.
When he finally rose, saying that he had to leave, Suvi found herself biting her tongue to stop herself from asking him to stay.
"Here," he said, gathering the remnants of their dishes, "I'll help you bring these inside. It's too much for one person to carry all at once."
"...Thank you." She mumbled it more than said it, and a part of her wanted to say that he shouldn't, that she didn't need him to help her with anything, why did he keep trying to help her with everything –
She pushed the thought down, locked it up inside of her.
They went into the kitchen. He put the dishes on the counter. For a moment he stood, wiping his hands on a tea towel. There was a quiet look on his face, as if he wanted to say something, but was undecided about it. Finally, he murmured, "Thanks for letting me stay. I'll see you tomorrow?" He turned to her with a hopeful expression.
"Yes," Suvi said. "Of course. I'll see you in the morning, then."
She watched him turn to leave, and when he was nearly through the door, she broke.
"Wait!"
Vesa turned to look at her, stopping at the threshold of her home, where the evening light spilled into the room. "Yes?"
Suvi went to him. One step, two, and then she kept going, until she was too close for politeness. As she had expected, he didn't move away.
"Tomorrow evening," she said, surprised at how steady her voice was in spite of everything. "If you want to come again, you're welcome to."
His eyes widened. Such long lashes, Suvi thought. So impossibly blue. And there was that blush spreading over his cheeks again. "Okay," he said. "If you're sure about that."
"And if you don't want to, that's fine."
"...I think I'd like to."
Suvi wanted to say so many things. I'm glad, or I'll look forward to it, or even Thank you for staying with me tonight. None of it felt quite right.
Maybe something else would get the point across.
She reached up to touch his face, letting her fingertips slide along his cheek before moving to cup the back of his head. He seemed to know what she meant to do, and tilted down a bit to meet her as she closed the distance and kissed him.
Vesa's mouth was soft and yielding, and he returned the kiss shyly, a little too lightly. That, Suvi decided, was all right. The important part was that he did return it.
She could feel the warmth on his face. For a moment she found herself unsure of where to put her hands, not wanting to risk making him uncomfortable. She settled them on his shoulders, and that seemed to be good enough, because a moment later she felt his hands fall to her waist.
They parted after a long moment. He didn't pull away, and she didn't either. Suvi looked up at him, wanting to kiss him again, and unsure if she should.
Vesa looked as if he wanted to say something. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was going to speak but couldn't find the right words. Then, shaking his head, he said nothing. He pulled her closer, and wrapped his arms more tightly around her, pressing his face against her shoulder.
Suvi let out a soft breath of surprise. Whatever she had expected, it wasn't that. But that was all right. She didn't mind.
She leaned against him for a while. Rested against his tall frame and slid his hair through her fingers, satisfied to find that it was just as soft as it looked. Closed in and savoured the way it felt to be close to him, to feel the unfamiliar shape of his body against hers, and take in the scent of oil and wood and soap.
"I should go," Vesa whispered after a long moment.
"I know," Suvi said.
"I need to rest for work tomorrow."
"Right."
She could feel him take a deep breath, like he wanted to say something. Like he was going to say something very important. But the words didn't come. Instead, he just tightened his hold on her for a moment.
He brushed a kiss against her hair and then drew away, the rosy tint of flush still lingering on his ears and cheeks.
"I'll see you in the morning, then."
"Of course." Suvi hesitated, then reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes drifted shut at her touch, and the soft expression on his face made her insides clench. "I'll look forward to it."
In a moment, he was out the door and gone.
The sun woke her up the next morning, slipping its beams through the parting in the curtains to hit her smack in the eyes.
Suvi groaned and rolled over. Pressed her face into the pillow. Reached out to the nighttable for her pocket watch, checked it, then made a disgusted noise and set it back down.
After a few moments, she sat up.
She'd left the curtains open on purpose. The window had been left open, too, wide enough that birdsong would be completely audible, giving a loud wake–up call right in her ear.
It had seemed like a good idea last night. Get used to waking up early, she'd told herself. Vesa's offer to wake her up every day stood, but she wouldn't be able to wait for him once her leave was over, even if he did come to see her in the morning.
The corner of her mouth twitched. We'll be walking to work together soon, she thought. Won't we?
Not yet, though. Not quite yet.
Suvi lifted a corner of the curtain, squinting out at the bright summer morning. He'd be along soon enough.
So, she thought to herself. Do you want to stay in bed, or do you want to be awake when he gets here?
It took a few tries for her to drag her carcass out of bed, but she did it.
Clothes on. Bed made. She pulled a comb through her hair, swept it out of her eyes. Splashed water from the basin onto her face.
Suvi took a deep breath.
It was strange to be up under her own power like this. But she'd have to get used to it. The end of the month was looming, and then – well. Back to work. But until then....
Suvi pushed aside the curtain and peered out once again. There was a familiar figure coming up the walkway to her house, his pace easy and unrushed, unlike yesterday.
She put the kettle on.
When his three knocks came, she opened the door before his hand reached the knob. Vesa's eyes widened, and he sucked in a surprised breath.
"Oh... Good morning?" He sounded almost embarrassed.
Suvi glanced from him to the lake, where the sun sparkled brightly on the calm water. "I guess it is," she said. Then she looked back to him. "It's good to see you."
A nod. He had that tongue–tied look again. "It's nice to see you up like this."
From inside the house, the kettle whistled.
Say it, Suvi told herself. You know you want to.
She took a deep breath.
"Do you have time to stay for tea?"
Vesa paused, as if he wasn't sure if he had heard her properly. Then a smile spread over his face.
"I think so, if you'll have me."
Something stirred inside of her. There was something about that shy smile. Those warm eyes. He was nothing like what she had lost. But maybe that didn't matter.
Maybe it was time to try something new.
She reached out and took his hand. Squeezed it. "I'd be happy to have you," she said, and meant it.
In the bright morning's light, she led him over the threshold without another word.
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairing: OCs; Vesa/Suvi, + Niko is there too.
Rating: 0+*
Length: 6.3k
Summary: Nearly a year has passed. Still, he keeps coming to her door, and letting the light in.
Other: *Contains references to death/depression/grief, but nothing too heavy.
I'll probably write about some of the events referenced here at some point, but it's going to have to wait for another time.
Threshold
The knock on the door was the same as always. Three short raps, and then he let himself in.
Suvi stirred in her bed, and didn't open her eyes. She listened to the sound of Vesa moving in the other room. The soft thud of his feet. The floorboards creaking. The click of metal as he put the kettle on the stove.
Footsteps coming toward the bedroom. She waited. He knocked on her door.
"Suvi?"
She pressed her face into the pillow and didn't answer.
"Suvi, I –" Pause. "I'm running late, and I can't stay. I'm sorry."
And he did sound sorry, Suvi thought.
She waited. Listened. She could hear a sound behind the door; a hesitant, anxious intake of breath.
"I... After work, I'll come by for a little while. Okay? But you'll have to wake yourself up today."
The door to the bedroom opened, and sunlight spilled from the kitchen into her room, warming her eyelids.
Suvi didn't move.
"We're going to be busy today. That's why I was called in early."
She knew that if she tilted her head and opened her eyes a little, if she just looked over, she'd see Vesa standing there in her doorway.
"I've put the kettle on for you." Another pause, another second of hesitation. The floorboards creaked as his weight shifted, as if he was going to take one step forward. And then they creaked again as he retreated, thinking better of it, maybe.
"I really need to go. I'm sorry – I'll be late if I don't." Then the footsteps moved away from her room, a quick thud of boots on the wooden floor. He was already rushing. "Tell Tarmo good morning for me," he called to her as he opened the front door.
The door closed. He was gone.
Suvi rose from the bed. Stepped through the bedroom door, past the stove, through the kitchen. Went to the window and peered through the parted curtains.
He was walking away from her, heading down toward the station at the shore, his hands up to tie back his golden hair as he went.
She watched him go until he was out of sight.
When she turned away from the window and looked toward the kitchen table, she saw what Vesa had left there. There was a loaf of bread, as usual. But beside that, he had left a bundle of yellow flowers, tied together with grasses. And a plush animal.
Suvi picked the stuffed animal up and squeezed it. The cloth it was made of was worn, faded, and soft. She couldn't quite tell what kind of animal it was supposed to be, but it was made with care, the stitches neat and tidy. Its wooden bead eyes stared up at her.
She turned to look toward the window again, looking down the path to where Vesa had disappeared from view, slipping past the nearest building. She wished she could see him coming back to her, the morning sunlight glinting on his hair, his cheeks flushed as he rushed back to her to tell her that there had been a mistake, that he wasn't needed today, or at least not right now. That he was free until the afternoon, and he would like to stay for a while, if she didn't mind.
The kettle whistled.
She put the stuffed animal down and went to make tea.
How long had it been?
Suvi cupped her mug in her hands, waiting for it to cool. Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she looked tiredly at Vesa's yellow flowers. She'd put them in a tall glass and set them on the kitchen table in the sunlight.
When had she started to expect him every day? When had she started to count on hearing his voice, and his footsteps on her kitchen floor, and the sound of him knocking on the door to her bedroom to wake her up in the morning?
She couldn't remember.
What she could remember was the one time she had decided to confront him about it. She had caught him as he was about to leave, and sat him down, and looked him in the eye. She remembered asking him why he was doing this. Telling him that she wasn't his responsibility. Telling him that he didn't have to.
And he had looked up at her, and said that he wanted to.
That had been months ago. There had been snow on the ground when he said that, when she'd asked him and he'd given her that simple answer. The days had been short and dark and cold. And even after that, he kept coming, with his loaves of bread and his morning greetings and his soft blue eyes.
She ached inside.
It was different from the hollowness she had felt in the beginning. That emptiness, that absence, that hole left behind when Raimo had been wrenched away from her. That felt like the space left by an extracted tooth, bloody and raw.
This was different.
Suvi rose from the table and took up the plush animal. She went to where her son slept, wrapped up in his blankets, and put it beside him.
Closing her eyes, she thought again to what he had said before he left, that soft and nervous and ever–so–earnest voice coming to her through her bedroom door.
Tell your son good morning for me. That was what he had said. And she knew that if he had been able to stay, he would have done it himself – and not only because it was polite, but because he wanted to.
The ache inside of her throbbed. And something else moved, too. Something she had been trying to ignore for some time now, even though it kept coming into the light, popping up when she least wanted it.
There was someone she needed to talk to.
Niko was one of those people who never stayed in one place for long. He was always switching shifts, or changing occupations, bobbing his way throughout the village as he moved from one job to another. When last they had worked together, he'd been on days, one of the mages following alongside her company of hunters. But a year ago, he had switched to night patrol. Temporarily, he had said. Just needed a change. A breath of fresh air.
She didn't need to ask him why. Change was what she needed, herself.
Today, she wasn't sure if she would catch him. But it was early enough in the day, Suvi thought as she looked out the window. Maybe he would still be awake after coming off from his work. And if he wasn't – well. If she couldn't talk to Niko, it would be enough to have a talk with her grandmother, as long as she didn't get quite to the specifics of the matter. It would help her organize her thoughts, even if she couldn't address the everything that was weighing on her mind.
"Come on, finish your breakfast. We're going to Grandmother's house." Those words worked on her son, even when others wouldn't have managed to get him going. After that, it took almost nothing to get Tarmo stuffed into his light jacket and boots and ready to go.
The air still had the cool touch of early morning when they stepped outside and made their way to that familiar house, dew dampening their boots.
After a quick rap on the door, Suvi swept in, calling out in greeting. She was caught with the familiar scent of herbs and wood and beeswax. Peering through to the kitchen, she caught sight of exactly the person she was looking for.
Niko sat at the kitchen table, his eyes tired and drooping, a mug of tea cupped in his hands. He looked as if he might collapse face–first into it. His uniform jacket was still draped over his shoulders, as if he hadn't even had the energy to take it off. But as he lifted his head to look at who had arrived, his expression brightened a bit.
"Oh, hi, Suvi! Here to see Grandmother? She's out around the back, in the garden."
"Actually, I'm here to see you." Her cousin's brows arched as she said that, and Suvi couldn't blame him for that. "Do you have a minute?"
"...Sure." Niko hesitated, then gave her a nod. "Yeah, that's okay." He looked more awake, at the very least, even if there was a good amount of confusion to go with it.
"Thanks. I promise that I won't take up much of your time. I know you need to get to bed soon." She turned to her son, reaching down to smooth his hair. "You should go to show Grandma your new teddy. Okay?"
Tarmo didn't need any more prompting than that, and in a moment, the two of them were alone.
There was still some tea left in the kettle.
Niko poured some into a lidded mug for her, and handed it over. Then he stepped into his boots. "I hope you don't mind if we take this outside," he said, his voice cheerful in spite of the tired, heavy–lidded set to his eyes. "Just a bit of a walk, you know. It'll be easier for me to stay awake that way."
They stepped outside into the pleasantly cool air and the scent of grass and flowers. It would be a while before the sun would be high in the sky. In the garden behind the house they could hear her son talking to their grandmother, their voices rising and falling, the words indistinguishable.
Together, they made their way along one of the quiet paths behind Niko's home. With shift change already complete, they were unlikely to encounter anyone, and for that Suvi was grateful.
Through the trees, they could see the lake glittering.
Niko didn't say anything. Normally, he was so chatty – almost too much. But now he was quiet, and seemed to be waiting for Suvi to tell him why she had come to see him, of all people. They both knew that he wouldn't ordinarily be her first choice of someone to confide in.
Suddenly the weight of the question seemed so much heavier than it had been that morning.
Suvi thought of the teakettle, and the yellow flowers, and the careful knocking on her door.
"I want you to tell me about Vesa Tikkanen. What kind of person is he?"
"What?" The word came out immediately, but only a second later, Niko smiled. "Oh, Vesa... well, you've worked with him. You know he's pretty good at –"
"Oh – no. I didn't mean what he's like on the job." How to say it? "I mean... you know him better than anyone else, don't you?"
"Well, sure. He's my best friend."
"Okay." Suvi took a deep breath. Why did it feel so strange to ask about this? To ask someone about him, even if that someone was a family member? "So, tell me about him. Anything. Whatever you can think of."
Niko quieted for a moment. Glanced at her, as if to ask whether this was really important. Then he hummed softly, looking skyward as he tried to think of something. "Well... He's a good guy. I mean, it takes a while to get to know him; he's shy, you know. But he's always been a good friend to me. Sure, he doesn't talk much... I mean, less than most people. But I wouldn't spend time with him if I didn't like him, you know? And..." Niko paused, glancing at her. "You do understand that he's a man, right?"
It took her a moment to figure out what he meant. "Of course. I thought everyone knew about that."
"You'd be surprised." Niko sighed. "Let's stop here, okay? I need to think."
They stopped together. There was a break in the trees, giving a view of the glittering lake. For a moment they looked out over the lake in silence, and Suvi tried to ease her nerves by drinking from the covered mug in her hands. She hardly tasted her tea.
In the past year, she had spent very little time with her cousin. They had never been close to begin with, not even before Raimo's death, but there had been a large part of her that hadn't wanted to talk to him, hadn't wanted to see him at all. She was uncomfortable. Even the air felt close, stifling.
"Why do you want to know about him, anyway?"
She thought about lying. She decided that it was best not to. "Because he's been coming to see me regularly ever since... you know," she said, not looking at him.
"Still? I mean, he came with me to see you a few times after Raimo died, sure, but –"
"He still comes by, Niko. In the mornings, before work." She didn't want to talk about the knocks on her bedroom door. "He puts the tea on for me."
"Hmm..."
Suvi glanced at her cousin. He looked thoughtful, but not troubled, his warm eyes soft as he looked out over the water.
"I guess the thing is," Niko said slowly, "Do you want him to visit you?"
"Just tell me what you think he means by all this."
"I don't know. I mean – he's never done anything like this before. Not that it ever came up, but.... maybe he's just trying to be nice. You know? Maybe he thinks you need help." Niko sighed, and looked down at the mug in his hands. "I mean, our family helped him out when he lost his aunt, right? So it isn't that weird that he'd want to lend you a hand. Since... you know. He was there."
Suvi thought to the morning, and to the other mornings before, over the past year. The knock on her door. The soft, hesitant words. The shy look he gave her when she did bother to wake and join him, pouring cups of tea before he left for work. The way he blushed, sometimes, when trying to speak to her.
"He left me flowers this morning."
"...Oh."
"But maybe he just –" Suvi grasped for something, anything that would explain it. "Maybe he thought they would brighten up the room."
"Sure." Niko didn't sound convinced. "Do you want that to be the reason?"
"I don't know." This is stupid, Suvi thought. Whatever help she thought Niko would be, he wasn't in the least. She had half a mind to thank him for his time and go. But there was one more thing, one thing that she could ask, and maybe he'd have a straight answer to that. "Be clear with me, here. Do you trust him?"
At that, Niko gave her a broad smile, as if he was relieved that she finally had a question that he wouldn't have to dance around. "Yes," he said. "Absolutely."
"Really?"
"Really. I'd trust him with my life." There must have been something in her expression, because he went on – "Look, I know his aunt was... well, she didn't have a, um, good reputation, but Vesa isn't like that. He's reliable. And he has a cool head. And... with these flowers and stuff, if you want him to back off, then he will, if you tell him to."
"I see." That was good, at least. "...Thanks."
They made their way back to the house in silence. Suvi considered her cousin's words carefully. She didn't know Niko well enough to be sure whether he was a good judge of character, but he had been so adamant that Vesa was trustworthy, and that was something.
Niko cleared his throat. Suvi glanced at him.
"I guess it's just... I know this is none of my business. But it depends on what you decide you want." He yawned, then continued. "If you don't tell him to go, I think he'll do the best he can to make you happy. That's the kind of person he is."
Suvi thought of all the mornings when he showed up unasked to wake her up and make sure she didn't spend the entire day in bed, pretending the world didn't exist. The knocking on her bedroom door. The loaves of bread on her kitchen table. The sound of the tea kettle.
"I'll think about it," she said, and left it at that.
It was a while before she left her family's house. For a few hours, she stayed, and joined her grandmother and her son out back, working in the vegetable garden, accompanied by the low hum of her grandmother's beehive. Niko, yawning, wished all of them a good day, and slipped inside the house to collapse into his bed.
Her grandmother looked at her, but didn't ask what she and her cousin had been talking about, even though she knew – and Suvi knew that she knew – that a visit to talk to Niko wasn't typical of her.
"Are you feeling well?" her grandmother asked, brushing the soil from her hands as she spoke in that familiar, firm, knowing voice.
Suvi thought about it. "Yes," she said. And that was true.
"Good." Her grandmother nodded, then handed her a trowel. "Lend a hand here, then."
And so they spent that time in silence, except for when that silence was interrupted by Tarmo's chattering. It gave Suvi plenty of time for her to turn Niko's words over in her head, to think carefully about what he had said. What it could mean. What she should do about it all.
Suvi didn't have an answer at the end. That wasn't what she had hoped for, but it was what she had expected. When finally she left, grasping her son's hand, she wondered if there had even been much of a point in trying to get a useful answer out of Niko in the first place.
But even if she didn't have answers, he had given her some things to think about, and that was better than nothing.
Maybe it hadn't been a complete waste of time.
Suvi pushed the curtains open, letting in the afternoon sunlight. Opened the door to let in the fresh air and shake out the rugs. She went through with the broom, sweeping everything out, out, out.
One more month of this, she thought. One more month of leave, and then she would have to go back. She remembered her superior officer's calm, even voice when they met to discuss the matter two months ago.
"We'll get you trained up again," Ilta had said. "And then you'll be assigned to clearance support for a while. Just until you find your feet."
Clearance support, Suvi thought wearily as she swept the dust from the corners of her house. A far different job than what she'd been doing before. It meant helping to go back through already–cleansed areas, picking through the places where anything might be hiding. She wasn't being demoted, strictly speaking. It was important work; of course it was. And it was challenging in its own way. But it wasn't her old position, and it didn't carry the same risk that working out in the field did, and it would be impossible to put her life back into the same shape it had been in before.
She remembered how Ilta had looked at her, understanding etched into the lines of her face. "It's just for this season," she said, sliding the paperwork across the desk so Suvi could read the details of where she would be assigned. "Next year, everything will be back to normal. You'll be back with your unit before you know it. In the meantime, a little change will be good for you, I think."
In response to all that, Suvi could say nothing. Arguing wouldn't do her any favours. And maybe, she thought later, as she read through the details of her assignment in the comfort of her kitchen, maybe it was coming from a place of experience. Ilta had lost a husband, too. And a wife as well, in fact. If anyone knew what this was like, she would be the one.
That didn't make it hurt any less.
Suvi straightened, sighing as she leaned the broom against the wall. There was a photograph on the mantelpiece, and she had been avoiding it from the moment she had started cleaning. When she stopped to actually think about it, she realized that this was ridiculous. "Complete foolishness," she muttered as she took up a rag, and turned to face it.
She picked it up in her hands. Wiped the dust from the glass and frame. Finally, she steeled herself, and looked at the picture.
It was the first time she had looked at it in ages. Before, the photograph had been on her bedside table. After what had happened a year ago, she had been unable to stand looking at it; but she couldn't stand the thought of putting it into storage, either. The thought of packing it away in her trunk made her feel sick. The mantle, it had seemed, was a good enough compromise. Somehow, taking it out of her bedroom was good enough.
Suvi looked down and traced the familiar lines of Raimo's face with the edge of the rag. Slowly, she brushed it along the sharpness of his cheeks, his narrow chin. It had been ages since she had seen those broad shoulders, those gentle eyes. And there she was beside him, looking so much younger, and so happy, and so unworried about anything in the world.
Had it been a year? She thought about it. Almost a year. Nearly. And the hurt wasn't as raw as it had been even half a year ago, but it was still there, curled up deep inside of her like a small furry animal.
"What would you think of this?" she murmured, staring down at Raimo's face. What would he have thought of it? After considering it for a moment, Suvi decided that he would have understood, or at least he would have sympathized with, how hard it was to move on, and how much she wanted to do it. That was the sort of person he was.
But was this the right way? The right person to do it with? Suvi turned her head a little to look over at the kitchen table, where the flowers stood in their old glass vase, their colours bright in the sunlight.
Maybe it was. It wouldn't hurt to ––
"Mom! Mom? Moo–ooom, what are you doing? Mom? Mom!"
Suvi sighed and placed the photograph back on the mantelpiece.
He was there right when she expected him.
Suvi looked out the window, its curtains still pushed open to let in the light. There Vesa was, coming up the path to her house. He had changed from his hunter's uniform into the simple clothing he always wore when off duty, and his hair was down, spilling in loose gold waves over his shoulders.
She went out to meet him.
Vesa's face brightened when he saw her.
"Sorry I couldn't stay long this morning," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. "I would have liked to, but –– well, you know."
"That's all right," Suvi said, smoothing out her apron, suddenly wishing that she had taken the time to hide the evidence that she'd spent the afternoon cleaning. "Thanks for getting me up, all the same." And for the bread, she thought. And the flowers. And the gift for my son.
"It's no trouble. Your house is on the way, so I..." He seemed to be trying to grasp for a word, but was unable to find it, and gave up. "You look well. I'm glad."
"I had a good day." And that was the truth, in more ways than one. As she looked at him, tilting her head up a bit to look him in the eyes, she could see that he knew what she meant. There was earnest understanding on that gentle face. And something else, too. She just wasn't sure what. Acceptance, maybe. Or understanding.
Niko's words swept back to her, and she remembered the way he'd spoken about Vesa, and all that confidence and trust. If you don't tell him to go, he'll do the best he can to make you happy.
"You're welcome to stay for supper, if you'd like. You haven't eaten yet, have you?"
Vesa's eyes widened in surprise. "I – well, no, I was going to go have it at the communal hall. Are you sure?"
Suvi made a face. "Down there? I know what they serve down there. It isn't fit for anybody. Yes, stay. Have some real food. We'd be happy to have you."
As easily as that, she invited him in.
At first, Suvi felt her insides twisting at the thought of having him so near. It was one thing for him to come into her house in the morning with the simple goal of hauling her out of bed so that she wouldn't stay in it all day. It was another thing to invite him in, and for a moment she wondered if she shouldn't have said anything at all.
That feeling disappeared not long after Vesa stepped into her house, only a little while after he crossed the threshold.
It was if he belonged there.
He kept her son out of the way while she made dinner. The two of them got along well. Every previous time that Vesa had come by when Tarmo was awake, her son greeted him with curiosity and enthusiasm. This time wasn't different from the others. Her son responded in her family's language to all of Vesa's questions in Finnish, and the two of them carried on even though neither could understand a word the other was saying. Suvi held back a smile as she listened to them.
Supper was simple. Tea. Fish. Vegetables from the garden. But as she promised, it was better than what anyone would get from the communal cafeteria. And while she couldn't be sure, Suvi had a feeling that Vesa didn't miss the conversation he'd usually hear at the hunter's table, either.
She asked, and received, details of what was happening in the field.
His voice was light, soft, easy on her ears. He was hesitant at first, but Suvi nudged him, gently coaxed him to keep him talking. Asked him about clearance support. Asked him about the progress along the southern bank. About what was being done about all those nests they'd discovered along the north side of the lake. And as she asked, he eased up a little, until the words poured out of him easily, like warmed honey.
But eventually, he didn't have any words left, and she had to offer her own.
"I'll be back to work soon," she said, pouring the last of the tea. "My time off is almost up."
"Oh?" Something crossed his face. A startled expression that she couldn't quite read.
"Yes. Next month."
Vesa quieted for a moment, considering this. "So you won't need me to wake you up in the mornings, then...?"
He said it as if the possibility that she wouldn't need his help disappointed him. As if there was nothing he wanted more than to come by in the morning and knock on her door.
"I guess not. It'll be easier to get up once I'm back in the habit, when I know that I can't sleep in as much as I like." A petal from Vesa's flowers had dropped onto the table. Suvi picked it up, brushing over its softness with the pad of her thumb. She pretended not to look at Vesa, but she kept him in the edge of her sight. There was a look that he was trying to hide; something almost despondent.
Say it, she told herself. Say what you want to say.
Somehow, the words found their way to her mouth. "Just because I don't need you to do it doesn't mean you have to stop."
"I... can keep coming, then. If you want me to."
"I do want you to." She lifted her gaze again. Looked him straight in the face. "I like that you wake me up every morning."
Was that a blush spreading over his cheeks? Yes. And a smile, a slight tug at the corner of his lips. Then he let his gaze drop, murmuring a soft, "Okay, I can do that."
She wanted to stand up and walk over to him. Reach down to tilt his head up and make him look at her. To ask him, point blank, why he kept coming to see her.
But she couldn't.
Wouldn't. Not yet. Not right now. She liked the way that he looked, and she didn't want to upset him with awkward questions. She had a feeling that she knew what the answer would be, anyway.
Later, they sat outside together in the golden evening light.
She'd made more tea, in part because it went well with the oatcakes she'd made that afternoon. The other reason was because she wanted to keep him there. Get him to stay for a little while longer. Have another cup, she thought. Stay for another.
They'd both run out of words, but Vesa didn't seem to mind her silence. After they poured out their talk to the dregs, what was left was contentment. Suvi watched him out of the corner of her eye, taking in his gentle, relaxed expression, and the warmth that flitted across his face as he watched her son play with the cat.
A year ago, it would have been Raimo there, sitting right next to her. It should have been Raimo now. The thought was like an ache.
Vesa was almost entirely unlike him.
But maybe that was all right, Suvi thought, turning her head a little to watch him more closely, and take in the sight of the sunlight on his hair.
Maybe she could get used to this.
When he finally rose, saying that he had to leave, Suvi found herself biting her tongue to stop herself from asking him to stay.
"Here," he said, gathering the remnants of their dishes, "I'll help you bring these inside. It's too much for one person to carry all at once."
"...Thank you." She mumbled it more than said it, and a part of her wanted to say that he shouldn't, that she didn't need him to help her with anything, why did he keep trying to help her with everything –
She pushed the thought down, locked it up inside of her.
They went into the kitchen. He put the dishes on the counter. For a moment he stood, wiping his hands on a tea towel. There was a quiet look on his face, as if he wanted to say something, but was undecided about it. Finally, he murmured, "Thanks for letting me stay. I'll see you tomorrow?" He turned to her with a hopeful expression.
"Yes," Suvi said. "Of course. I'll see you in the morning, then."
She watched him turn to leave, and when he was nearly through the door, she broke.
"Wait!"
Vesa turned to look at her, stopping at the threshold of her home, where the evening light spilled into the room. "Yes?"
Suvi went to him. One step, two, and then she kept going, until she was too close for politeness. As she had expected, he didn't move away.
"Tomorrow evening," she said, surprised at how steady her voice was in spite of everything. "If you want to come again, you're welcome to."
His eyes widened. Such long lashes, Suvi thought. So impossibly blue. And there was that blush spreading over his cheeks again. "Okay," he said. "If you're sure about that."
"And if you don't want to, that's fine."
"...I think I'd like to."
Suvi wanted to say so many things. I'm glad, or I'll look forward to it, or even Thank you for staying with me tonight. None of it felt quite right.
Maybe something else would get the point across.
She reached up to touch his face, letting her fingertips slide along his cheek before moving to cup the back of his head. He seemed to know what she meant to do, and tilted down a bit to meet her as she closed the distance and kissed him.
Vesa's mouth was soft and yielding, and he returned the kiss shyly, a little too lightly. That, Suvi decided, was all right. The important part was that he did return it.
She could feel the warmth on his face. For a moment she found herself unsure of where to put her hands, not wanting to risk making him uncomfortable. She settled them on his shoulders, and that seemed to be good enough, because a moment later she felt his hands fall to her waist.
They parted after a long moment. He didn't pull away, and she didn't either. Suvi looked up at him, wanting to kiss him again, and unsure if she should.
Vesa looked as if he wanted to say something. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was going to speak but couldn't find the right words. Then, shaking his head, he said nothing. He pulled her closer, and wrapped his arms more tightly around her, pressing his face against her shoulder.
Suvi let out a soft breath of surprise. Whatever she had expected, it wasn't that. But that was all right. She didn't mind.
She leaned against him for a while. Rested against his tall frame and slid his hair through her fingers, satisfied to find that it was just as soft as it looked. Closed in and savoured the way it felt to be close to him, to feel the unfamiliar shape of his body against hers, and take in the scent of oil and wood and soap.
"I should go," Vesa whispered after a long moment.
"I know," Suvi said.
"I need to rest for work tomorrow."
"Right."
She could feel him take a deep breath, like he wanted to say something. Like he was going to say something very important. But the words didn't come. Instead, he just tightened his hold on her for a moment.
He brushed a kiss against her hair and then drew away, the rosy tint of flush still lingering on his ears and cheeks.
"I'll see you in the morning, then."
"Of course." Suvi hesitated, then reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. His eyes drifted shut at her touch, and the soft expression on his face made her insides clench. "I'll look forward to it."
In a moment, he was out the door and gone.
The sun woke her up the next morning, slipping its beams through the parting in the curtains to hit her smack in the eyes.
Suvi groaned and rolled over. Pressed her face into the pillow. Reached out to the nighttable for her pocket watch, checked it, then made a disgusted noise and set it back down.
After a few moments, she sat up.
She'd left the curtains open on purpose. The window had been left open, too, wide enough that birdsong would be completely audible, giving a loud wake–up call right in her ear.
It had seemed like a good idea last night. Get used to waking up early, she'd told herself. Vesa's offer to wake her up every day stood, but she wouldn't be able to wait for him once her leave was over, even if he did come to see her in the morning.
The corner of her mouth twitched. We'll be walking to work together soon, she thought. Won't we?
Not yet, though. Not quite yet.
Suvi lifted a corner of the curtain, squinting out at the bright summer morning. He'd be along soon enough.
So, she thought to herself. Do you want to stay in bed, or do you want to be awake when he gets here?
It took a few tries for her to drag her carcass out of bed, but she did it.
Clothes on. Bed made. She pulled a comb through her hair, swept it out of her eyes. Splashed water from the basin onto her face.
Suvi took a deep breath.
It was strange to be up under her own power like this. But she'd have to get used to it. The end of the month was looming, and then – well. Back to work. But until then....
Suvi pushed aside the curtain and peered out once again. There was a familiar figure coming up the walkway to her house, his pace easy and unrushed, unlike yesterday.
She put the kettle on.
When his three knocks came, she opened the door before his hand reached the knob. Vesa's eyes widened, and he sucked in a surprised breath.
"Oh... Good morning?" He sounded almost embarrassed.
Suvi glanced from him to the lake, where the sun sparkled brightly on the calm water. "I guess it is," she said. Then she looked back to him. "It's good to see you."
A nod. He had that tongue–tied look again. "It's nice to see you up like this."
From inside the house, the kettle whistled.
Say it, Suvi told herself. You know you want to.
She took a deep breath.
"Do you have time to stay for tea?"
Vesa paused, as if he wasn't sure if he had heard her properly. Then a smile spread over his face.
"I think so, if you'll have me."
Something stirred inside of her. There was something about that shy smile. Those warm eyes. He was nothing like what she had lost. But maybe that didn't matter.
Maybe it was time to try something new.
She reached out and took his hand. Squeezed it. "I'd be happy to have you," she said, and meant it.
In the bright morning's light, she led him over the threshold without another word.
