Yearning - Gunnar
((This post wasn't much of anything without Scarlet. Lots of thanks to her. Don't let her deny it.
Thanks also to Rose and Ivy for their proofreading and essential ‘female advice'. And Chase gets credit as the cleanup hitter.))Gunnar snapped awake at his desk and pushed himself upright in his chair. He had been poked. Who...?
Oh. Annelien.
"[Thinking hard over the case details, Mr. Svensson?]" she asked, leaning ominously over his desk. She only ever called him ‘Mr. Svensson' when he was in trouble, much like a parent would employ a child's full name in such discord.
And Gunnar only ever called her ‘Miss Bakkar' in situations like this. She usually insisted that her agents call her by her first name on a familiar basis, but now was a moment he preferred to distance himself from such familiarity. "[Yes, of course, Miss Bakkar.]"
"[Don't think too much. Not enough time about the day.]" A typical saying, here at ACME Stockholm.
"[Surely.]"
"[Do you have time, Gunnar?]"
Was that sarcasm? Gunnar hesitated to reply.
"[I need to speak with you in my office,]" Annelien explained.
What else? "Okay."
Supervisor Bakkar turned around and, without delay, aimed for her office. Gunnar was expected to get up and follow, so he did.
As he had determined by now as routine, Gunnar closed the door behind them and allowed himself access to the chair opposite his supervisor's. Her desk was devoid of anything besides the computer, per usual. Why did she have a desk at all?
Annelien folded her hands on top of the pristine desk. "[Gunnar, you submitted a list of four emergency contacts, yes?]"
More forms to re-validate? Why so many signatures with this organization? "Ja."
Annelien removed one of her hands from the tabletop briefly to retrieve something from a drawer. She slapped the note card in front of him. It had only two words inscribed on it. Gunnar angled it for legibility.
The two words actually spelled out a name: Gudrun Nygård. "Emergency Contact 3," Annelien ‘clarified'. "[Who is that?]"
"[She is a friend,]" Gunnar simply stated.
"[Your girlfriend?]" Annelien probed.
Gunnar grimaced. "[Only a friend.]"
Annelien raised an eyebrow. "Jaså?" She apprehended the note card, folded it, and flipped it into her now-unempty trash can. "[Evgeni is your friend, Gunnar. And he is not an emergency contact? I see your other three contacts are--mother, father; sister and brother-in-law--family. Why this girl?]"
This is too weird. "[Because she is my friend, who still lives in my hometown.]"
Annelien nodded and straightened her lips, glancing at her computer screen. "[Seems like a very sweet girl. I suppose she found a rather winsome boy...]"
Gunnar showed no expression.
"[I am acting in your best interest, Gunnar. It is why I am talking with you about this just now.]" Annelien clicked the computer mouse four times. "[You shall be paid for a full workday. But I am excusing you early. Right now.]"
"[What?]"
"[Thank me later, Gunnar,]" Annelien said, dryly.
"[Why am I excused for the day?]" Gunnar expected some nasty punchline.
"[Because Miss Nygård is outside the building.]" Annelien feigned an awestruck countenance, gawking with great exaggeration at a camera feed on her monitor. "[Goodness, is she beautiful.]"
Gunnar shifted anxiously, though he denied his face to betray any sign of excitement.
"[Go on, Gunnar. She is at the street corner. She will be coming to the door. Go and meet with her.]" Annelien prodded him deviously.
Gunnar warily arose from his seat and paced to the office door. He turned to face his supervisor, attempting to read her. No use. She only smirked at him, and then almost commanded, "[Thank me later.]"
Gunnar quickly swung the door open and exited the room. He sought out the stairs immediately and proceeded down them with great caution. Don't appear too enthusiastic, and be wary of a trap.
He escaped the stairway, unharmed physically or emotionally, and strode through the lobby and out through the building doors.
It really is Gudrun. He approached her casually, anticipating her to initiate a long-awaited embrace. She did hug him. But he noticed a lacking in vigor; a disenchantment in her eyes. That sparkle he remembered--that which had shone so brightly at him in the past--was not to be found. "Hej, Gunnar," she said.
"[Gudrun! So fine to see you!]" Usually uneasy about hugging, Gunnar now tried to hold her a little tighter. Gudrun pulled away.
"[I am glad to see you, too,]" she returned. She offered him a genial smile. "[I believe you have had a lot of fun seeing the world. Many wonderful people you have met.]"
Gunnar's smile twisted. "[No, not so many wonderful people. I am so glad to be back home, in Sweden.]"
"[But you are not back home,]" Gudrun pointed out matter-of-factly. "[Stockholm is not your home.]"
He was taken aback by the way she seemed to be withholding her joy, discrediting him on something more-or-less trivial like that. "[It is true. But I am so close now.]"
Gudrun swept her right hand above her brow to brush her hair behind her neck. "[So close to which?]"
Gunnar stared at Gudrun. Something wasn't right with her, the way she stood; the way she looked at him. The way she clenched her fists--tensely, not tenderly as she had so often shown herself before. And if one could believe, Gunnar even noticed a higher breathing rate.
He reached out, wanting to take her arm, but stopped himself halfway. "[Gudrun, is something wrong?]"
"Nej," Gudrun replied, almost too quickly. "[Why would there be something wrong?]"
It was a lie. He knew that it was. They had been friends to such extremes. Friends don't lie! What has changed?
He shut his eyes. What had changed?
When he opened his eyes again, Gudrun was still standing before him--he had always considered that she might be some sort of mirage, some fairy from his imagination. But she remained--along with the blankness in her eyes.
"[Gudrun, I...]" He reached out and kissed her.
He had never kissed a girl before, but it felt so mundane; mediocre. He felt nothing special, and he began to panic. Is it her?
She reacted immediately, shoving him away with a harsh push. Gunnar rebounded and smiled sheepishly. "[Why--? Were you not ready? I--]"
Gunnar had only just now noticed their spectator, a man about their age with dominantly Italian features. Realizing that he had caught the Swede's attention, he stepped amiably forward and offered his hand. "Hi. I'm John."
That was all he needed to say. Gunnar pulled his arm back and swung his fist at the newcomer, making full contact with the young man's right cheek and nose. He found an unanticipated rage ignite inside himself, and he shoved his full body weight into John. They toppled to the concrete, the furious athlete rasping and growling as he established an advantageous position. Gunnar pinned his victim and invited himself to deliver another strike, this time at the other's ear.
The Swedish assailant removed himself from atop his Italian victim, morbidly satisfied with the broken and bloodied nose and the bruised ear. He had won back Gudrun's attention, and this was all he cared about. He brushed the debris from his skinned arms and turned to face his princess.
Gudrun returned his gaze with a soft smile, distracting from the folding knife she possessed. She flicked out the blade and thrust towards Gunnar, piercing Gunnar's flesh and stabbing into his right kidney. He growled and bowed over, hands reactively curling around Gudrun's extended arm. She simply tugged the blade from his body and folded it back into the handle, whilst jerking Gunnar away from herself. Gunnar stumbled and fell back, pressing his right hand to where his blood was spilling out.
Gudrun just stared innocently at him.
John crawled over to Gunnar's side. He waved a thin plastic container in front of Gunnar's eyes-a CD case. "I recommend that you see these girls in concert," he said. Techno Tvillingene. John set the case next to Gunnar's head before standing up and tending to his own wounds inflicted by the fallen young man.
"Hej då, Gunnar." Gudrun waved to him and turned on her heel to return across the street and to wherever it was she had come from. John readily followed.
Gunnar watched through teary eyes from his prone position on the sidewalk, bleeding profusely.
Annelien was now standing above him, her face revealing the deepest compassion for him. "[I am sorry that I did not believe you before,]" she apologized sincerely. "[She really is ‘only a friend', yes?]"
Gunnar snapped awake. This time, it was real. It was nighttime. No Annelien; no busy phones; no blood; no Stockholm. No Gudrun.
No Gudrun...