#migrun

It wasn’t obvious in an in-your-face kind of way, Tuuri had to give them that. And in the small beginnings, it had been very, very subtle. But now it was…

Well, not so subtle.

Or maybe that was just her being sensitive?

They were still arguing like they always had, and neither were going any easier on the other, especially not Sigrun. Still, there were some things that were not the same. Like Sigrun sleeping on the floor with Mikkel, leaving one bunk vacant, and the way they’d huddle together around the campfire when all the others had gone to bunk, except for Lalli who was of course out scouting. Tuuri had stolen more than a few glances at them through the side windows, seen how Sigrun leaned back against Mikkel and he sneaked an arm around her waist, vacant fingers playing with her hair. She’d even managed to catch them kissing once or twice, although they acted like it hadn’t happened when Mikkel spotted her looking at them. For some reason he was always the one spotting her.

It felt a lot like Tuuri imagined having a mother and father act around their children while they are small, except of course for the fact that Sigrun was the one wearing the pants in that relationship for sure.

Emil wasn’t quite so sure about the whole thing. Sure, he thought Mikkel was alright, well, so long as he didn’t hit him on the shin with a steel pipe, and Sigrun was… Sigrun. But it was a little bit weird, he couldn’t deny that, suddenly there seemed to be a kind of awkwardness whenever he found himself alone with either of them, especially Mikkel, and he didn’t know what to do with it.

That being said, Sigrun listened more to the Dane now, which was a stark difference from before, and that meant easier work for Emil, since now there was suddenly a worry for his physical health. Mikkel occasionally went out with Sigrun instead of him, but Emil had a feeling that it was not solely out of concern for his welfare. They’d come home wearing each other’s jackets once, which had just been weird. On the whole, Emil didn’t mind, and sometimes he was even glad of it, but sometimes he wasn’t sure.

Most days, he could ignore it, but he’d walked in on them mouthing at each other before, and worse things too. Not yet the worst, but judging by the looks they sent each other at regular intervals, he might just experience that. He was not looking forward to it.

Reynir had been completely oblivious to the whole ordeal until a few days ago when he’d popped his head into the driver’s cabin to offer his help if there was anything at all to help with. He’d done it because he had heard Mikkel’s voice coming from the cabin, and had decided that if there was the slightest chance of him actually getting something to do, he would take it, because he was bored and sick of not having anything to do. He felt awkward around the crew, but after walking in on Sigrun lying over Mikkel, nothing more than that, but he had blushed like a schoolgirl and walked right back out. He hadn’t spoken for the rest of that day. Or the day after, come to think of it.

He’d been babbling and blushing around Sigrun and Mikkel ever since, and the entire crew, the two aforementioned included, were getting really annoyed with it, and tired of it too. But the Icelandic redhead couldn’t help himself. He was as innocent as the first snowdrop in March, and no more stained. After a few days with it, the rest of the crew had moved on, but Reynir was left stuttering and trying to make some sense of what he’d seen, because frankly he wasn’t sure whether Mikkel and Sigrun had been having some kind of interaction or whether they’d been sucking each other’s heads off. Either was a distinct possibility.