Intrepid » n.h. au

Final Part

"Hey, hey."

I jerk in my spot in my bed, at first widening my eyes in fright; but when I feel a cold hand slip around my waist and hair on the back of my neck, I relax, realizing it's not a serial killer that broke into my apartment. It's Freya.

That's actually even more confusing than a serial killer breaking in would've been – what is she doing in Chicago?

"What are you doing here?" I voice my thoughts as I turn on my back, getting a good look at her, "You were supposed to come next weekend."

"I know," She sighs, and lies down, supporting herself on my chest; just now I'm noticing her flushed cheeks and the fact that she's fully clothed, leather jacket and all. She just came here, for God knows what reason. "But you know what I realized earlier?"

"What?"

"Today-" She gets her phone out of her pocket and shows me the date- it's three in the morning, what the hell is she doing? "-is the 23rd. Of September."

I furrow my brows up at her excited face, thinking that having her head in books about biomedical engineering 24/7 has finally taken its toll. She's lost her mind. "And... you came all the way from Cleveland to tell me that?"

Freya sighs, lowering her hand but continuing watching me, and the look in her eyes forces some seriousness into my tired senses; if she really came from Ohio to Illinois without telling me about it beforehand, at this hour and just days after she left, there must be something going on.

"Freya? What's going on, is everything okay?"

"You know what today is?" She continues, with a more or less blank face, "It's our three year anniversary."

I widen my eyes, my heart almost stopping at the thought that I'd forgotten, again- but then I remember, "No, it isn't," I shake my head firmly, my soul returning to my body, "We got married in April, is this some sort of test?"

"Niall," She laughs, finally losing the blank expression I've grown to hate over the years. One thing I've learned is that expressionless Freya is never a good thing. "It's three years since we met."

I raise my brows, my lips spreading into a smile, but that doesn't mean I don't think she's mad for driving for six hours from another state to tell me that. "Are we gonna be one of those couples? The ones that celebrate everything?"

"Niall-"

"I mean, we already eat at gallery openings for dinner and free food samples in supermarkets for lunch, one more thing of that kind and I think we can be classified as white trash."

"Ni-" She starts but ends up laughing, lowering her head on my chest. She knows what I'm talking about, we're both college students with high grades and there aren't many things outside of that that we care about. Such as what impressions we leave in the supermarket and at gallery openings.

"I'm serious, let's put a broken washing machine out in the hallway and we're there," I say, laughing a bit myself but not nearly as hard as she is, rolling around so she's lying on her back next to me. That's one of the things that makes me the happiest, the fact that I can still make her laugh as hard as I did in our first few months. "You start wearing Capri pants and I'll start wearing a bucket hat, it'll be great."

"Would you... shut up already?" She barely gets the words out, trying to catch her breath; just when I'd stopped believing I'm as funny as she tells me I am. "I didn't come so we'd celebrate it."

"Why'd you come then?"

 Freya takes a deep breath, still recovering from her laughing fit but not saying anything. We're lying the same way, in the same positions, I'm watching her and she's watching the ceiling. Or through the ceiling. She's been prone to having moments since I've known her.