Somewhere Else

Chapter 3: Teething Pains (iii)

As part of my integration efforts upon arriving in Helsinki, I bought books – books on Finnish history, books on Finnish customs, books explaining the Finnish language. Aksel doesn't know about those. I hide them under the bed, because they made me feel silly.

I didn't want Aksel to find out, because it's embarrassing. These books show that I've been trying to force myself into belonging somewhere I don't, trying to infiltrate his culture. Not that it's working very well.

After Aksel switches back to speaking in English, however, I mostly forget about these books. They lie in the badly-hidden corner I've fashioned for them – stacked haphazardly against the wall under the bed in the master bedroom.

I've almost forgotten about their existence when Aksel stumbles across them. We're cleaning the apartment one weekend, and he's in charge of the master bedroom while I'm wiping down the counters in the kitchen. I hear the vacuum cleaner go off, but don't realise anything is amiss, until Aksel comes into the kitchen holding a book in each hand.

He's turning them over, reading the flap of each one as he walks in.

"How To Be More Finnish?" He is staring at the title, an incredulous look on his face. I freeze. "What the hell is this? Why did anyone write a book like this?"

I drop the cloth I've been holding and charge towards him, but he nimbly evades me and head's back to the bedroom. I give chase. Back in the bedroom, I realise the situation is worse than I feared. All of my books have been taken from their hiding place and are scattered beside the bed. As Aksel heads back for them, I push past him and I snatch up as many as I can, stuffing all of them under my pillow.

"Don't put them there," Aksel says. "They're dusty."

"We're going to change the bedsheets anyway," I point out. My face still feels hot. I flop on top of the pillow, as if hiding the books from sight will erase them from his memory.

I feel the mattress sink as Aksel sits down on the bed beside me. He touches my shoulder lightly. "Kulta... What's going on?"

I resolutely keep my back to him. "Nothing," I mumble into the pillow, guarding the books like a dragon hoards its treasure.

"Emilie..." I feel an insistent pressure on my shoulder as he tries to turn me around to face him. But I only bury my face deeper into my pillow.

"Emilie," I hear him repeat, his voice deeper, closer now, as he bends his head to try to look at me.

When I continue to ignore him, I hear him sigh, before something heavy settles over me. It's him. He's climbed onto the bed, over me, and he is dipping his head down to rest it beside mine, so that I can feel his breath ghosting my cheek. Part of his weight is on me, but he is still holding himself up on his elbows – he would crush me otherwise.

"Emilie," he whispers.

I keep my head hidden in the pillow, even though I can feel my body heating up at his nearness. My heart has started beating fast. I want to turn around and wrap myself around him.

He's playing dirty. He knows I can't stay away from him for long, especially not when he is this close.

By now, I am clutching my pillow in an effort to stop myself from turning around. "Go away," I say into the pillow.

"No," he says, against my ear, before he starts kissing the side of my neck, nibbling lightly at the skin there with playful lips. My feet twitch. My hands loosen their grip on the pillow case. I start squirming against him. I can hear my own breaths come faster, mingled in with Aksel's ragged ones. That's the only comfort I can find - that he is not immune to being this close to me either.