I can't help laughing, because...

[DMt.]

...and they all lived happily ever after?

*

“Will you play something else for me?”, says Elin, after they have watched Jessica and Johan depart for the cinema. They are still standing at the window, holding hands.

"Not right now", says Agnes, looking at her apologetically, "it doesn't always happen like that, you know. It was because you were so close to me, I think. I could really feel you, it just...it just happened. I don't want to push my luck again."

Elin nods, then gently pulls her away from the window, and into her arms. They hold each other for a while, not looking into each others' faces, then Agnes sinks to the floor, her legs are like jelly; Elin follows her down, until she is kneeling on the rug with Agnes' head on her breast, an arm around her shoulders, and stroking her hair.

It's a strange reversal for Elin, she has seen Agnes as older, not dominant but calmer, more self-assured than she herself actually is, under her fiery persona; but now Agnes is clinging to her like someone rescued from drowning, and her breath is fast and unsteady, so that Elin doesn't know if she is aroused, or weeping. She is trembling herself, and in terror of doing something amiss.

Now she remembers Agnes telling her that her faithless kiss was the first, and single tears spring sharply to each of her eyes. "Agnes...?", she says, trying to get a glimpse of her face, "are you...OK?"

"No", says Agnes, almost inaudibly, and Elin stops stroking her hair, puts her other arm around her, and holds her tight.

"What's the matter?", she says, her heart sinking.

"I'm scared to death", stammers Agnes, still not looking at her, "I've wanted this for so long, I've loved you for...and now I'm...scared. I've never...I've never been with anybody. Nobody! I'm sixteen, for God's sake, and you're the only one who's ever even kissed me! Do you...do you understand?"

"Yes", says Elin, "I do. I'm scared too, I love you so much, and I don't want to...spoil it, you know? Agnes, I'm so sorry about that kiss in your room, that stupid dare..."

"It's all right, you don't..."

"It's not all right! If it wasn't for that you'd trust me more, right now! And I am sorry, I want to be sorry. It was just an excuse to kiss you, to pretend I didn't want to, pretend I was just doing it for a bet. It was...cheap. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

Agnes is unable to speak. The sofa is behind them, still strewn with the things from the piano, and Elin edges back, loosening her grip on Agnes slightly to do so, until she is sitting on the floor with her back against it, and their weight off her now-aching knees. Agnes is now slumped on her like a child, awkwardly, arms at her sides, and Elin gently rearranges her into a more comfortable position, so that her head is on Elin's heart, and then leans a little to the right, both arms around Agnes' shoulders, so that she can see her face.

Agnes is deeply sunk into herself, eyes three-quarters closed, she looks almost asleep; and Elin continues, very carefully,

"You know why I think it is?"

"Why what is?", says Agnes quietly, her face still expressionless. She is listening to Elin's rapid heartbeat.

"Why you haven't...do you know how beautiful you are? How fucking extraordinary? You're not like anyone else I know, Agnes, no-one's ever played and sung to me like that, never. You're so intelligent, so talented. Everybody must be scared of you, they must think they'd never stand a chance with you, that you must be already spoken for. That's why you've been so alone, that's what I think anyway."

"So why do they call me weird, strange, a freak, a dyke, a pervert, then?", says Agnes bitterly, but she puts her free arm slowly around Elin, and to the younger girl's intense relief looks up into her face at last.

"Because they want to bring you down a peg, probably", says Elin, "because they think you must be as snotty as they'd be, if they were as amazing as you. They don't bother to find out how kind you are, how nice. When I came back to your house, drunk, after kissing you for a fucking bet, you could have told me to get lost -"

"No, I couldn't", says Agnes, with the ghost of a smile, "I wanted to, I think; a bit, anyway, but I couldn't."

" - well, most people would have, and called me horrible names, too, and felt good about it. You didn't; and then I messed you around for another week, before I realised that I really loved you."

"What was that again, sorry?", says Agnes, a glint of mischief in her eyes now.

"Before I realised I really loved you?"

"Come again?", says Agnes as though deaf, her perfect Cupid's-bow mouth widening into a smile.

Elin's shocking-blue eyes look into Agnes' deep brown ones; she is also smiling now, in sweet relief, and she says, very slowly,

"I realised I really love you."

Agnes sits up, and then she leans against the sofa too, Elin's left arm still around her shoulders, and takes a deep breath.

"I love you, too", she says, for the first time, and then she reaches out her left hand, gently turns Elin's face towards her, and kisses her.

[katka]

[DMt.]

Sorry...

It was very VERY hard to write, I thought I was going to have a heart attack.

I made all kinds of silly mistakes, because it was running away with me, and it took ages.
Sorry again.

[katka]

nothing happens I understand that it is difficult good chat here today good night

[DMt.]

I'm so glad.

Phew! How am I supposed to get to sleep now? I'm sixteen again!

[fish]

Don't forget when you're doing your maths, that another 104 of those views are mine.


Beautiful.
I can understand that it must be difficult to write without becoming trite but what you've done so far is exceptional.

I confess that I too am a romantic.
I want to see their love expressed and not just some sordid erotic episode.

If Agnes and Elin can slowly let you know what they've been doing, feeling, since that day, then we're all in for a most enjoyable treat.

[Ian]

Adorable.

[snaps]

“That's lovely, yes”, says Agnes, and she begins with a simple minor arpeggio, extends it with a few haunting suspensions, then opens it out into a sequence; finds another, and does the same, but shorter; returns to the first one and pulls a melody out of it, humming along wordlessly, then does almost the same with the second one, but now realises she can use a little poem she has, for the lyric; and she sings softly and tenderly,

Wake me early
and whisper in my ear
Touch my cheek
and let sunbeams
play on my back
It should be simple

Elin is holding Agnes' shoulders much more tightly than she realises, now, but Agnes doesn't mind; she uses the last line again, over the second section, as a chorus, then makes the second section chords major, feeling it's too morose with minor chords all through.

I think that was a masterstroke, using Rebecka's own poetry and integrating it into the story . I love this passage in particular, indeed the whole story, and everyone knows how utterly unromantic I am.

[DMt.]

<Lapping it up, with a purring noise>

[DMt.]

*

One by one the other four have made their excuses and gone, and now Camilla is taking a route that will allow her to go past Elin and Jessica's block on her own way home. The others have not been quite as enthusiastic as she might have hoped about damning Agnes and Elin's relationship, despite her not-very-subtle prompting, and she now has an uneasy feeling that she is, perhaps, starting to be seen as protesting too much.

Still, school tomorrow is another thing entirely, with its own dynamic, and there she can play on the sheep, those who are dim and unsure of themselves, more or less as she likes, especially the boys. It was easy, for example, to plant the notion of sticking a porno shot on Agnes' locker, in such a way that they thought it was their own idea...the morons. Her lip curls at the thought of letting any of them near her, even if they had dared.

The only ones she might have even remotely considered, the older, cooler boys with money and transport, avoid her like a rattlesnake. She knows her sharp tongue and merciless wit are feared and hated, and she likes it that way; better that than not being noticed at all, or being picked on. She, Camilla, is the one who will be doing any picking-on, it's not primary school now, and she is not just the gawky Finn kid who somehow always seems to say the wrong thing, not any more.

Elin is the coolest girl in the school, and Camilla is the self-elected policewoman of their group, the arbiter of who is cool enough to hang with them, second only to Elin herself. She is not quite sure how and why Elin came to accept her, why she is unfazed by her shrewishness and how she so easily makes her laugh, but she certainly knows that she hates the sullen newcomer who has taken her friend, the centre of their group, away; and her only concern, now, is how to get her out of the picture, in such a way that she will not lose Elin in the process...

Lost in her thoughts, she has only half registered that she is now on the street where Elin lives; and yes, there is Jessica, putting on a motorcycle helmet and climbing onto the passenger seat of a bike. Camilla quickly steps into the shadow at the side of the nearby bus stop, she has no wish to speak to or be seen by Jessica at this moment, not after the phonecall earlier, thank you very much.

Jessica and the rider wave up at the window, before roaring off down the street; a dagger of ice enters Camilla's heart as she sees Elin and that little shit Agnes fucking Ahlberg waving back with their free hands, smiling, happy, beautiful as two angels. Then Elin steps slowly backwards, out of frame, and their two joined hands lift into view for a moment, as she gently pulls Agnes out of the line of sight.

Camilla's eyes are sharp, her vision is excellent, she has seen all this with an appalling clarity. The dagger of ice has become unbearably large, it fills her whole chest, so that she must bend forward to gasp for breath. Her mouth is open wide, her face wrung with pain, and it seems that her eyes have something wrong with them, they are swimming with tears. What's happening to me? Am I dying?, she thinks, and with difficulty she drags a ragged breath into her lungs as she forces herself upright, and wipes her eyes with the heels of her hands, smearing her mascara.

She totters onward down the street, careless now if anyone sees, her hands clenched at her heart, struggling to breathe; horror creeping up and down her back and her long, thin neck. A word, a bad word, is seeking entrance to her mind, but she doesn't want to think about it, and what it means; and so, in her agony, she clings instead to the image of her enemy, and pours all her hate and fear into that.

She's ruined everything, she thinks wildly as she staggers along, the little shit has ruined everything. She desperately wants to scream, at the top of her voice; but she is afraid that, if she does, she will never be able to stop.

[DMt.]

Too dark?

It's not much fun in Camilla's head, really.

[katka]

I think that Camilla much lives through it... She is totally fucked up of it what ?

[DMt.]

Personally I always had Camilla marked down as 'Dyke in denial', not least of which she, herself is an outsider, as an ethnic Finn. Desperate to 'fit in'.

I think she has confused sexual motives to both Elin and Agnes. She is an 'Elinista' and is traumatised by Elin's affection for Agnes. Complex sexual politics. Grrrrr.

What snapsie said.

Urgh, that was nasty...need to think of something warm and fuzzy now...I never thought I'd feel sorry for Camilla

[DMt.]

*

Papa Olof and Mama Karin pull up outside the Olsson's apartment block, and toot the horn; after a few moments, Agnes and Elin emerge, holding hands, and walk shyly but determinedly up to the car. Olof is touched by the sight, and gives an involuntary “Aww...”, but Karin makes a sharp, equally involuntary intake of breath, and her face is carefully neutral as she gazes at Elin.

The girls wave at them both; Olof, after a warning glance at his wife, winds down the window and smiles at them as they approach. “Hey, Agnes”, he calls cheerily, “and this must be Elin, right? Hello there, nice to meet you.” He sticks a huge paw out of the window, which Elin shakes, saying, “Hi. Nice to meet you, too.”

She and Agnes, still holding hands, lean down to greet Mama Ahlberg also, but she is only a dark, still silhouette in the passenger seat; nonetheless Elin smiles at her and says hello, but she gets only a murmured acknowledgement of their existence.

Oh, well; I can't expect her to be too delighted about me, I suppose... Elin releases Olof's hand, and hugs Agnes goodnight. “See you in the morning”, she says, referring to their arrangement to meet before school and go in together, and Agnes says, “Yes. You're sure you're OK coming to ours first?” “Yours is closer to school”, Elin says, “it doesn't make sense for you to double back.” A quick kiss, and she walks back indoors, as Agnes climbs into the back seat, and waves to them all before going in.

“Hey Mama, Papa”, Agnes says, “you didn't have to come and get me, you know. I could have walked, it's not far.”

“It's nearly eleven, Agnes”, says Karin, “and you are still only sixteen...we wanted to.” She turns to look at Agnes, and bites back the chilly remark about Elin's age and make-up she had intended to make next. Her fiercely-private daughter is glowing with happiness, she tries to remember the last time she has looked like this, and instead she hears herself say softly, “She's very pretty, isn't she?”

“Yes, she is”, says Agnes, “and I love her to bits.”

“That's nice, darling”, says Olof, “I'm glad you've found a friend at last.”

“She's more than just a friend, Papa”, says Agnes, and after a brief but pregnant silence he replies, a little more quietly, “I'm just glad to see you so happy, love.”

“Thank you, Papa”, says Agnes, “that means a lot to me.”

“Well...I can't pretend I'm exactly thrilled, myself”, says Karin ruefully, sitting back in her seat, “but Papa is right, it's good to see you looking happy, even if...” she trails off, and Agnes says helpfully, “Even if it's not quite what you expected?”

“Yes, darling, that's right”, says Karin, turning once more to give her a quick smile, “but you know we love you, and it's your life.”

Agnes leans over the back seat, puts an arm around each of their shoulders, and kisses them both on the cheek.

“You know I love you, too”, she says, “or you should do, anyway.” After a moment she adds curiously, “You left Oskar on his own?”

“He's fast asleep”, says Olof, "and we'll only have been five minutes, round trip. It's...an important occasion, but we still didn't want to wake him up for it. He'll be fine.”

“As long as he doesn't wake up”, murmurs Karin, “but, yes, I wanted to be here too. Look, we're back now, anyway, so let's just not make too much noise going in.”

[This is wonderful...I was sure there was going to be a horrible scene. I'm so lucky...I hope Elin's Mama is as nice about it as Jessica was...but she's their Mama, so she probably will be.]

Agnes and Karin wait while Olof locks the car, and then, quite naturally, Agnes slips an arm around each of their waists, and they an arm each across their beautiful daughter's back, and the three of them take their time walking silently up the path to the front steps.

[snaps]

It's coming on well.

I think we should have a fanfic crossover, Battle of the Giants: 'Camillazilla vs. Florianeraptor'

I must say I never took to Mama Karin. I think she's as poisonous as Camilla. I could easily see the two of them in cahoots, doing a dodgy deal.

But it's your story