Tonight

Brita Alsvik could see her own breath in the crisp air, a pale ghost of vapor rising slowly towards the dark blue night sky. Gusts of glacial wind were penetrating through her coat and dress, sinking into her skin and settling deep in her bones. With every passing second, she felt herself freezing from the outside in, and she figured that she'd soon qualify as a human popsicle.

For a fleeting moment, she welcomed the numbness. It was almost merciful compared to the relentless churn of her thoughts that not even hours of dancing had managed to silence.

Normally, salsa was enough. Moving one's body to wonderful rhythms, a humid, tightly packed club - somehow it always loosened the knots in her mind.

Tonight, it didn't.

Losing herself in the music, feeling Daniel's strong hands on her body, none of it managed to quiet her mind. And accepting his offer to spend the night together would only have delayed the inevitable. By morning, she'd still wake up with the same mistake waiting for her.

For a mistake it truly was, kissing a grumpy, anti-social colleague on the lips.

She’d regretted it later on. She’d even apologized for it. Unfortunately, the damage had already been done. There was a shift in Magnus’s behavior, and in an instant Brita had gone from being someone barely noticeable to someone being constantly watched.

Getting over the whole darned thing would’ve been a whole lot easier if she didn’t have to see him every day.

Brita exhaled frustratedly, tucked her chin into the collar of her coat and quickened her pace. It was snowing so much she could barely see anything. Fortunately her feet remembered the way back home.

As she rounded the corner, the familiar silhouette of the concrete apartment came to view. Grey, silent, bleak as ever. She opened the door and stepped in, wiped her shoes onto the black mat to make sure she wouldn’t slip on the floor. The heavy door slammed shut behind her, its booming sound announcing her arrival to each and every person living in this depressing excuse of a home.

Not bothering to turn on the lights nor use the urine-smelling elevator, she headed to the staircase and started climbing the steps.

Almost immediately, the familiar rhythm of her footsteps began to mingle with quiet voices drifting from the stairwell. Someone else was there, hidden somewhere in the darkness. Brita hesitated. The apartment building had always had its share of peculiar lodgers, from unemployed rappers honing their skills non-stop to glue sniffers and accident-prone housewives, but this was something new. She slowed down a bit. Yet at the same time she knew that this stranger had probably heard her coming in. There was no choice for her but to soldier on.

With each step, the noise grew louder. It sounded strange, unnatural, almost rehearsed. Then she saw it, a pale face glowing in the middle of the dark, and she couldn't help but wonder if the building was home to something older and darker than its current residents. As soon as possible, Brita rushed over to a button on the wall and pressed it.

The moment the lights started shining, she froze completely. Finding a ghostly being or even a vampire might have been easier to accept than this.

For there he was, sitting on the floor, leaning against the door of her apartment with his knees bent.

Magnus.

As if her thoughts had actually conjured him here.

He looked up, towards the ceiling, and squinted against the brightness. Then he glanced down and looked at her.

Neither of them said a thing, even if the moment needed words. Brita didn't even know how to behave around him anymore, not now that lines had been severely crossed. She just stayed still and just stared at him.

He looked beat-up. His ice-blue eyes were watery and underlined by bags, his clothes were crinkly and he had a five o’clock shadow. His hair was a collection of messy brown curls.

"Brita," he said, being the first one to talk. He clicked off his phone but didn't get up from the floor.

"Magnus?" she answered, her voice oddly timid. It was the nerves, they sure were getting the better of her. Her heart started beating like a drum. No longer was she cold. Now, suddenly, she was boiling hot.

Magnus gave her a slow once-over, not even bothering to hide his interest. Under the weight of his gaze, she felt completely naked. As if he could see everything, her scars, her thoughts, hopes, fears, everything. Even the fact that she’d stolen a book when she was seventeen. Maybe he wanted her to feel uneasy. The same way a prey feels when its being studied by a bloodthirsty predator.

Or maybe it was the outfit. He’d never seen her looking like this. She wasn’t in the habit of wearing high-heeled shoes and black fringe dresses at work. No, there it was black trousers and fitted shirts all day, every day.

"Why are you sitting here, in the dark?" she asked, trying to push her antsy ponderings to the back of her mind.

He looked into her eyes again. "Got tired of pushing the button," he answered.

Brita’s eyes flickered up. She'd realized he'd talked about the light switch just above his head. "My fault, I guess. I meant, what are you doing here?"

"Oh. Right. I needed to see you."

The heaviness of his brows accentuated the intensity of his gaze. Judging by his stern expression, it was possible that him being here had everything to do with the murder case. Magnus was like a bloodhound, never resting, always working.

"The eyes of the victim, were they finally found?" she asked, knowing how Magnus had been tormented by them missing.

"No."

"The elastic band, then. You found out why it was wrapped around the poor man’s tongue."

"No."

"No," Brita repeated his answer, nodding a couple of times.

In hopes of finding clues in regards to what was coming, she paused to study his face. Turned out to be utterly pointless. One could never really guess what Magnus was about to say. He was always so stoic. He delivered news of funerals and birthdays with the same wooden expression.

She exhaled through her mouth. "As much as I do enjoy this delightful game of guessing, I’m cold and I’m tired. I'd like to go in there," she nodded towards the door of her apartment, "and just rest. Or something."

"Right," Magnus said. He licked his lips quickly and nodded a couple of times. "You mind if I join you? There's something I need to discuss with you."

Brita tried to keep a straight face. "I guess," she said.

Magnus shoved the phone into the pocket of his beige coat and pushed himself up from the floor, his eyes never leaving her face. Brita approached him carefully and rather slowly. Though she’d gotten used to his bark, she still feared the possibility of a bite. She maintained eye contact up until the moment she slid the key into the lock of the door. She was shivering.

"How long have you been waiting here?" she asked, doing her best to sound casual. She didn’t want him to notice how nervous she truly was.

"Forty-five minutes."

Her eyes flickered back to him and she straightened her spine. "On a Saturday night?"

"Makes no difference to me whether it’s Tuesday or Saturday."

"It should," she answered. "When do you rest, Magnus? When do you sleep?"

"I don’t. It’s the thoughts," he said, motioning towards his head with his trembling hand. "Can’t switch them off."

"Sounds exhausting," she said, leaving it at that, knowing that he’d like it to be left at that. Before she even noticed it herself, her eyes traveled down to his lips, and she remembered the delicate sensation of their kiss.

The awkward kiss. When neither of them had moved their lips, and her tears had turned the taste of it salty. What had she done with her arms, though? This she could not remember. Had she wrapped them around his neck? Or cupped his face with her hands?

"Gosh, it’s freezing outside, isn’t it?" she said, breaking the silence. "Nearly lost my toes to the cold."

Only when opening the door did Brita realize just how weird it felt, Magnus following her indoors, seeing the personal, private side of her life. But it was too late to back down now. Knowing Magnus, though, he wouldn’t enter the apartment properly anyway. He wasn’t a social animal. They’d probably have their conversation while standing in the vestibule, and after that, he’d murmur something and take his leave.

He wouldn’t get to see the pair of panties on the living room floor. Nor the sports bra hanging from the handle of the bedroom door.

All she’d have to do is to get him to talk. Find out why he was here. What it was that he wanted.

Brita stretched her arm to the right and snapped on the vestibule lights. The sound of neighbors yelling entered their ears.

"The walls are paper-thin," she said, smiling apologetically as if the whole argument was her fault. She took a deep calming breath. "So..."

"So," he repeated and tried to smile, closing the door after him. It was a flash of a grin that was soon replaced by a nervous frown.

She was grateful of the curse words coming from next door. It made the silence between them a little less tense. The smile lingered on her face, and Magnus was just standing there with his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. Neither of them knew what to do exactly.

"Sorry, is there some place where I can hang my coat?" he suddenly asked.

Okay. So he was planning to stay.

Oh no.