Most of the day has passed. There are still three hours left to January 3rd. Snow melts from his shoes onto the welcome mat, the words scraped and sprinkled white, and he decides against digging into his pocket for keys --- his hands are too full. He rings the doorbell. He waits the indeterminable minute. She may be plodding down the hall now, leaning into the peephole, and surprised, maybe stunned, the deadlock jostles and her door whines open.
There stands Emil, snow clinging to his hair and a carry-on by his side. He has a bouquet of red flowers in his hand. They’re roses.
“I remembered,” he tells her, simple. He’s entirely aware of the time. “I still have three hours.”
It’s like a defense for the lateness, only he doesn’t need one. He should still be in Denmark on business, not here at her doorstep, her neighbor’s Christmas lights still winking on behind him, his hair shining yellow.
Snow falls and scatters white on his coat. He kisses her brow.
He lets her request what she wants that night, and he does not deny her.
She never unlocked a door so fast in her life. The late hour necessitating soft steps down the narrow entryway. But the terror of peeking through the eyehole and her heart palpitating nonstop is all blinked away the instant she sees Emil on her step.
Speechless, she offers a greeting of wide eyes and brow furling upward in fond wonder of how he continues to surprise her. He was supposed be gone for another week if not two. He remembered, he tells her. She never once mentioned her birthday when he left after Christmas.
With his words, only a lighthearted huff of a laugh rides on the exhale of her breath that gets caught in the cold air. Her smile grows bigger under eyelids closing at the kiss he gifts her forehead.
❛ This is, ❜ beyond words she can form, her heart overflowing, her head shaking in disbelief.
A wind flurry whisks a good size clump of snow on his shoulder; white atop his black wool overcoat. It breaks Brianne’s thought, her hand reaching to dust it away.
❛ Oh dear. Hurry on in. I have a fire going. ❜ The door at her back pushed completely open. ❛ It’s dreadful out. Only going to get worse I hear. Thank goodness you weren’t stuck anywhere. ❜ A voice lost is now found tumbling out.
The bouquet burdening one of his hands is exchanged into hers in the hall, his carryon halted at his side. ❛ For you. ❜ His voice pointed, as it often is.
A bouquet of perfect ruby red blooms contrasts to the sorry state of outside. In the dim yellowed light glittered with muted blues and reds from the twinkling lights outside, her stare falls wistful upon them. She has not seen fresh cut flowers in years and never has she been given red roses, a gesture so overtly romantic that she can’t help but feel heat rush to her cheeks.
❛ They’re beautiful. ❜ Understated, her disbelief in his presence lingering. Peeking back up at him, she finds those mismatched eyes quiet but soft on her face. She leans in, her heels lifting to plant a chaste kiss on his lips, nose lingering on the tip of his before she pulls back to speak. ❛ Thank you for these, darling. And for you, the best birthday surprise I’ve ever had. ❜
The kitchen beckons her to find a vase. He goes to the hall closet where a hanger awaits his coat. As always on his return, she asks if he’s eaten. He has. She was about to call it a night. Her long hair let down, dressed in a nightgown and long robe, her journal closed on the table waiting to be put away. But the fireplace still glows.
The roses are set on the coffee table in a vase that before held fake eucalyptus twigs. Two small mugs of sipping chocolate are made. A 1940s Vera Lynn album pulled from a growing pile of antique records in the corner, is played on low. An oversized chair fit for two is slid a little closer to the fire. But more warmth comes from him at her side, her one leg draped over his, their fingers entwined, her forehead nuzzled into his neck, him playing with her hair. Quiet conversation amid comfortable silences and little sips of rich chocolate late into the night until sleep drifts one of them away...