A Fling for Life (Morten Harket x OC)

I'll be coming for your love, okay

"I just like animals so much more than people," Willow said, not caring her mouth was full of donut dough and her words a tad slurred with wine. "I can't stand most people's bullshit, geez. I mean, I'm not gonna lie, I live for the drama a little bit, but most of what almost anybody has to say is just sooo fucking dumb."

Morten chuckled from across the table, fighting to keep his own full mouth closed.

"Imagine having to hear all those dumb things with a smile on your face," he said and slurped on soda. "Fans are great, but they're the best from afar. In most cases."

"I'm not your fan," she teased and giggled through her nose. It came out as an oinky grunt and he snorted in his cup.

"We'll see about that tomorrow," he grinned and reached for her hand. Everything about him seemed so genuine, so instinctual, Willow didn't know what to think and at that moment, she couldn't care less.

"If you thought I was coming to your gig, you're mistaken, darling," she said. For some reason, remembering who he was and what he did gave her an unpleasant squeeze in the stomach every time. She didn't want to think she could be jealous, jealous and bitter that the funny and charmingly awkward guy couldn't be hers to keep. Like in some lame Cinderella story, once the night was over, so was... that, whatever it was between them, she had no delusions.

"Maybe you weren't, but I'm inviting you now," Morten replied, still smiling, but sounding serious. He tilted his head to the side. "Please?"

"You look like a pleading puppy," she laughed and he beamed.

"Well, that's good, isn't it? Don't you love animals, vet girl?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "You're serious, aren't you? Why do you care?"

"I'm still intent on cheering you up and since my jokes suck, I'll do that the only way I know how - I'll sing. Maybe even dance. You could be in for a treat," he winked, but his eyes didn't lose the imploring look.

"One would think you'd have better things to do than cheering up random girls," she muttered. "You already saved me with a lighter, why stick around?"

He leaned back, suddenly shy, almost as if unsure if he had the right.

"I don't remember clicking so well with anyone ever since this crazy train started," he said after a while. "You're so smart you put my wits to shame. Talking away, I don't know what I'm to say, I'll say it anyway..." he hummed and chortled.

Willow had a playfully mean remark on the tip of her tongue, but he seemed so earnest she didn't have the heart for it. A smile she felt was particularly foolish surfaced on her lips.

"You're not that bad yourself," she said, stifling a yawn. It must have been closer to sunrise than not. "I guess the fame and pumping iron didn't shrink your brain, surprisingly enough."

He laughed out loud. "Heartless, you are," he stood up and offered her a hand. "Let's get you home, sleepy. I am actually excited to sing for you tomorrow."

Hearing that felt better than it should have. His arm tightly around her shoulders, they walked outside of the cafe into what became a mild drizzle where he waved down a taxi and got in with her.

"I have to make sure you don't pass out trying to unlock the doors," he explained to her raised eyebrows.

Willow swallowed hard. She wasn't sure if she could trust herself about inviting him inside, but it didn't seem that was on his mind. After all, he didn't mention anything but her brains, and if that was not a successful friendzone attempt, she didn't know what was.

But when they reached her address, Morten was right behind her as she exited the car.

"Keep the meter running, please," he said to the driver and her heart sank.

If it rains, it pours, girl, she thought grumpily. Did you really think he would stay the night with you? A five-star hotel room is probably waiting for him, and it wouldn't be a shock if it wasn't empty, either.

She walked to the doors in silence, hearing his steps as he followed. On the porch, she dug in her purse for a moment and fished out the keys, trying her best not to look him in the face, but her bag was small and she could fumble with it only for so long.

When she straightened up and turned around, for the second time that night her nose almost pressed against his chest. She cleared her throat.

"Your jacket," she said and started to shake it off her shoulders, but his hands squeezed her arms to keep it on.

"You can give it back tomorrow if that's what's gonna make you come," Morten replied quietly and with his index finger on her chin, he gently lifted her head. His eyes sought hers; there was something in them, something stirring and intense; his other hand put an unruly strand of hair behind her ear and then slid down to her waist. Willow's mind felt suddenly empty except for a vague wonder if the tightness in her chest was an actual cardiac arrest.

The hint of some adorable shyness in his face was entirely replaced by that stern, primal expression. He pulled her closer, pressed her tight against him and for that short moment before he let go she could feel his heartbeat too. It wasn't any slower than hers.

Morten let out a small grunt as if overcoming some urge in him and gave her a loud kiss on the forehead. She'd have giggled at the smoochy sound if her knees hadn't been so weak out of sudden.

"Please, Willow," he said, taking a few steps back. "It would mean the world to see you there. Or anywhere, really. To see you tomorrow. Uh. You know?"

That guy surely made awkward be the new hot, she thought to herself and smiled, doing what she could not to let the rising sadness through.

"I'll see what I can do," she replied softly. He grinned and turned to walk back to the cab.

Willow clenched her teeth and went inside. She didn't want to watch him driving away; maybe if she pretended hard enough, she could convince herself for tonight that he never left.