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Isak isn't sure how exactly he ended up at this point in life.
That's not true, of course. As with most ridiculous things, it started with Eskild offering to help him out when he couldn't find a summer job, and Isak does remember the sequence of events that led to him handing out flyers dressed like a fucking prince with a crown on his head and a cape hanging off his shoulders. But metaphorically, he has absolutely no idea how he ended up at this point in his life.
At least he's done with it for the day. His feet hurt so badly he's considering crawling to the tram stop on all fours, and he's just about all smiled out. He pulls the cape off and balls the crown up inside it, running a hand through his hair a few times until he gets rid of the lingering feeling of the just-a-little-on-the-small-side crown on his head.
The bench at the tram stop is blessedly empty, and Isak falls down onto it with a sigh, pulling out his phone to text Jonas and check if he's gotten dinner started yet. Jonas' attempts at reconnecting with his family's South American roots mostly going the way of him cooking a lot of delicious things is probably the best thing to happen to Isak this summer.
Jonas
You cooking or should I bring something?
Pizza please.
Jonas' answer comes immediately, and Isak sighs again. The pizza place is in the opposite direction of their shared flat from the tram station and his feet pulse hotly in protest at the thought of more walking.
Jonas
I hate you
Love you too <3
Isak heaves himself to his feet with sheer willpower when the tram comes into the stop, trying to think of the heavenly taste of pizza awaiting him if he just makes it through the next thirty, forty minutes.
“Your Highness!” some guy behind him calls, and Isak feels his eyes roll so far back he's sure he could see the inside of his skull if there were any light there, but he turns around anyway.
The guy, dressed in – tights and a tunic? Shit, maybe he got stuck with a similar job to Isak's – runs up to the tram, so Isak idles in the door, stopping the doors from closing.
“Oh, thank goodness I found you!” the boy says, out of breath and most importantly not getting on the tram.
“Can you point me to Sonja?” he asks, blue eyes wide and twinkling up at Isak from where he's got his hands on his knees, still trying to catch his breath. He's, objectively, quite gorgeous. Windswept blonde hair, blue eyes, healthy flush on his cheeks, lips that incite far less innocent thoughts than the look on his face.
“Um,” Isak says, because he's also, quite obviously, at the very least a little strange.
“I'm afraid I've gotten lost, and I don't really know--” the boy starts, but Isak can feel the people on the tram get restless, so he grabs the boy's arm and pulls him into the tram.
“Just get in, will you,” he says.
“Oh, thank you, your Highness,” he answers, smile spreading over his face like Isak's doing him a favour by dragging him into the tram. Shit, what is Isak doing? “It's very kind of you to let me on your… carriage?”
Isak stares at him, trying to ignore that at least two other people are staring at the two of them as well.
“Let's just sit,” Isak says, and drags the boy over to two free seats, falling down into one of them and tilting his feet to rest on their sides to take pressure off the soles of them. He wore his comfiest sneakers as well.
The boy sits down demurely, placing his hands in his lap, and smiles at Isak.
“Um, I'm Isak,” Isak says, because that feels like a good place to start.
“Even,” the boy replies and looks down at their hands like he's considering offering his own, but unsure about it. When Isak extends his, the boy – Even – takes it gingerly and inclines his head in what looks an awful lot like a bow.
“How do you do?” he asks.
Isak is so unequipped to deal with this. Should he get him to the police?
“Um, tired,” he says.
Even laughs a little and lets go of his hand. “Yes, me too. I've wandered very far today.”
“You're looking for someone?”
“Yes! Sonja! Do you know her?”
Isak does not.
“Do you maybe have her number? So we can call her?” he asks, pulling out his phone.
Even eyes it curiously and then looks up at Isak.
“You can call her with that? And she can hear you?”
Oh, fuck. Really, should he get the police involved?
“So, you don't have her number?” he hedges.
Even shakes his head, still smiling.
“I'm sure I'll find her tomorrow,” he says. “Our love will guide me.”
As soon as Isak has had some pizza, he's definitely calling the police. Someone has to be looking for him, right?
Even looks out the window a little, and Isak can't help but stare at him. That smile that's permanently pulling at his pink, pink lips and crinkling up his blue, blue eyes is absolutely adorable, even though it's a little creepy how it hasn't wavered once in the last few minutes. Does he genuinely only have that one expression?
Just as he thinks it, Even's face morphs into a bit of a frown and he looks back at Isak, leaning in a little and lowering his voice.
“Are you trying to stay incognito?” he asks.
“Um, what?” Isak asks back.
“You're hiding your crown,” Even says, and then gasps. “Oh no, did I give it away? I'm so sorry, your Highness! I just thought-- because Sonja's a princess--”
“I'm not an actual prince,” Isak says, dumbly. “This is just a costume.”
“You pretend to be a prince?” Even asks, frowning a little more deeply. “Does your real prince not mind?”
“No? It's not like anyone would mistake me for him. He wouldn't wear a crown or a cape,” Isak says.
Even hums contemplatively. “Impersonating royalty is considered treason in Andalasia.”
Anda-what now?
“Well, this is Oslo,” Isak says, for lack of any other kind of response.
“Oslo,” Even repeats, quietly, and goes back to staring out the window, eyes wide with wonder.
“I brought pizza!” Isak calls into the flat, looking back over his shoulder at Even following him inside.
“And company,” he adds.
“Did Eskild come with you?” Jonas calls back from further in the flat while Isak toes out of his trainers, all the while balancing the two pizza boxes in one hand and the crown and cape in the other. Even hovers like he still wants to take the boxes from Isak even though Isak's already told him no three times.
Isak doesn't bother answering Jonas as he can hear him pad through the flat, no doubt coming to greet the company and take the pizza.
“Oh,” Jonas says. “You're not Eskild.”
“I'm Even,” Even beams.
Jonas looks from Even to Isak, clearly confused.
“I picked him up by the tram stop,” Isak sighs.
Jonas' eyebrows fly up his forehead and he looks impressed.
“Wow, that's fast,” he says.
“What?” Isak asks, before his tired mind catches up with what he just said. “No! God, no. Not picked him up like that. He basically followed me home.”
“Er, what?” Jonas asks, now alarmed.
“No! Not-- oh my god. Can we sit down? I'll explain,” Isak says with a sigh, and Jonas nods hesitantly.
Isak dumps his crown and cape on the sofa in passing and then the pizza boxes on their small kitchen table.
Even sits down on one of the chairs just as delicately as he did in the tram only after Isak gestures lazily for him to sit.
“So…?” Jonas prompts, but flips open the top one of the pizza boxes, hunger winning out over suspicion for the moment.
“Right, so,” Isak says, and tries to make what happened with Even sound at all plausible.
“He's looking for his girlfriend, and, um, needs help,” he emphasises the last word and sends Jonas a significant look.
“Fiancée,” Even corrects, beaming with pride. “We were going to get married this morning, but I fell down a well and somehow ended up here in-- Oslo?”
Jonas looks from Even to Isak with wide eyes, and Isak is absurdly glad Even just told that little anecdote, because if Jonas didn't catch his meaning before, he certainly has now.
“Right,” Jonas says. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Even says, smiling brightly with his hands still folded in his lap.
“You can have some as well,” Isak says, and points at the pizza. “You must be hungry if you've been walking all day.”
Jonas shoots him another one of those looks and Isak gives the tiniest shrug.
“Thank you,” Even says and reaches out to carefully pick up a slice of pizza.
He makes a truly, truly obscene noise at the first taste of it that has Isak clench his jaw, and Jonas duck his head to hide a grin because he knows that Even is exactly Isak's type, minus all the weirdness.
“Oh, this pizza is heavenly,” Even says, eyes bright. “I can't believe a place like this has food this wonderful!”
“Dig in,” Jonas says, smirking when Isak kicks him under the table.
When they've finished the pizza, Jonas leads Even over to the sofa like a child and leaves him sitting there while he comes back into the kitchen where Isak is stuffing the pizza boxes into the trash.
“Should we call the police?” he hisses.
“I don't know!” Isak hisses back. “He thought I was an actual prince and that this Sonja chick is a princess so I'd know her.”
“Well, you do have the hair for it,” Jonas teases and ruffles Isak's hair.
Isak bats his hand away.
“Seriously though,” he says.
“I don't know, man. Maybe he's just, like, on something? And he'll come down by tomorrow?”
“That's pretty consistent for a fucking drug-induced something,” Isak points out, but he doesn't really want to just hand Even over to the authorities either. He knows he probably should, but. He feels oddly protective of him. Maybe they can get some more information out of him tomorrow about this Sonja and get him back to her somehow. If she's real, that is.
“But okay,” he says. “Shall we have him stay on the sofa then?”
Jonas shrugs.
“Well! Do you want to call the police or not? I'm not kicking him out; he's harmless.”
“He's like a traipsing fawn,” Jonas agrees and looks back through to the living room, where Even's leafing through one of Jonas' comic books. “Yeah, let's let him stay the night. See what tomorrow brings.”
Tomorrow brings Even serving them up a breakfast Isak didn't know they had the ingredients for, and Even dressed in a new tunic he cut from the ridiculously floral curtains the old lady who lived here before them left behind that Isak didn't know they had the equipment to make.
“Oh, the mice helped,” Even says when Isak somehow stumbles out a question.
“The mice?” he repeats. What is this, a Disney movie? Did Even whistle while he worked?
“Yes, they're very helpful when you feed them a bit of cheese,” he says and then his face falls. “I hope you don't mind?”
Isak isn't sure if Even means the mice, the cheese, or the curtains, but he knows he doesn't have the capacity to mind much of anything before his first cup of coffee.
“No, it's fine,” he says, smiling involuntarily when Even beams at him.
The floral pattern does look better on him than it ever did on the curtains.
When Even doesn't come up with anything else about Sonja other than that she's a princess he's set to wed after a three-day whirlwind romance that started when she saved him (though from what he won't say), Isak decides to take him along to work and let him run around looking for his Sonja before he calls the police in the evening.
The amount of girls giggling and batting their eyelashes at Isak in his stupid prince getup quadruples with Even in his floral tunic and ridiculous bows by his side. Even seems to delight in it, only straying every now and then when he sees a head of short blond hair to make sure the passing girl isn't his princess.
They have lunch in the park, and Even lets a group of little kids teach him ' sol ute sol inne' , singing along with them delightedly. Isak's heart doesn't twang painfully at all.
Even gets a little more dejected the longer the day goes on, and by the time Isak's workday is over and he's leading Even back to the tram stop, the perpetual smile has been wiped off his face.
“I don't understand why she hasn't come for me yet,” he says, voice small.
Isak's heart breaks a little. Whatever it is that happened to Even, it can't be fun.
“Alright, well. We tried, but I think it's time we called the police. They can probably help you find her. Or your parents? Family?”
“I don't have parents,” Even says, and Isak's heart falls right out of the bottom of his stomach to shatter at his feet. Shit .
“Well, Sonja then,” he relents.
“The police?” Even repeats squinting at Isak like he's trying to figure out what the word means.
“Yeah,” Isak says quietly. He doesn't want Even to feel like he's trying to get rid of him, but there's nothing Isak can do for him. He can't just keep a stranger on his couch like a stray animal he picked up off the street. Even is a person.
“Like the royal guard?” Even asks.
“Er, yeah, I guess,” Isak says with a shrug.
Even slides forward on the bench to grab Isak's wrist, eyes wide with urgency.
“Please don't,” he says. “Sonja's step-mother-- the queen-- she doesn't.”
He stops himself and his eyes dart around like he expects someone to be watching them.
“I think she pushed me down the well,” he whispers.
“The well that brought you here?” Isak repeats gently, a terrible thought forming in his head.
Even nods. “I don't think she wants Sonja to marry me. She'll be queen once she's married, you know.”
Isak nods, and carefully pries Even's hand off his wrist.
“Okay, I won't call the police,” he says.
Even relaxes, and looks down at their almost entwined hands for a moment.
“I'm sure Sonja will find me,” he says, though he sounds a bit like he's trying to convince himself as much as Isak. “If I could just stay with you a little longer…? Only, you're not supposed to move too much when you get lost.”
“Yeah, sure,” Isak says. “Stay as long as you like.”
“You said what?” Jonas hisses, dragging Isak back into the kitchen while Even fluffs the pillows of the sofa.
“Listen,” Isak says sharply. “I think maybe something, like, happened to him. He got really terrified when I mentioned the police and said something about Sonja's step-mother pushing him down the well.”
“The magical well that brought him here,” Jonas repeats sarcastically.
Isak rolls his eyes and huffs an impatient breath. “Well, what if there is a Sonja and a stepmother and she did push him down something, only it wasn't a magical well.”
“You mean…?” Jonas says, letting the conclusion hang between them.
“He says he doesn't have parents,” Isak adds, shrugging helplessly.
“Fuck,” Jonas breathes.
“Yeah.”
“So, what do we do?”
“I don't know. More of the same? Maybe we'll figure it out eventually,” Isak says. “Anyway it's gotten late now.”
“You're too weak for a boy with a pretty face, you know that?” Jonas teases.
“I keep you around, don't I?” Isak shoots back.
Jonas laughs and wraps an arm around his shoulders.
“Knew it was only for my face.”
“Absolutely,” Isak deadpans. “You're the one for me, Jonas, marry me immediately.”
Even gasps delightedly, interrupting them from where he's standing in the door frame, both hands covering his mouth.
“Congratulations!” he enthuses, and then rushes over to grab both their hands. “Oh, you make a beautiful couple!”
Jonas bursts into laughter, while Isak feels himself blush bright red.
“No!” he says, pulling his hand out of Even's grasp. “It was a joke! We're friends.”
“A joke?” Even repeats, a frown as dark as his laugh was bright settling over his face. “You shouldn't joke about love, Isak, it's not very kind.”
With that he whirls around and flounces back over to the sofa in a flurry of tights and floral tunic.
Jonas stares after him for a moment before he turns to grin teasingly at Isak.
“Yeah, Isak, it's not very kind,” he says, but he's laughing again by the end of the sentence.
Isak rolls his eyes at him and leaves him to take care of their dishes from dinner, locking himself in the bathroom for a long, warm shower instead.
When he and Even get to Karl Johans gate the following day, Emma, the promotion princess equivalent to his prince who usually works at the other end of the high street, is waiting for them with two cups of take out coffee, one of which she hands to Isak.
“Good morning, Isak,” she trills.
“Hi, Emma,” Isak says, and takes the coffee. It'd be rude not to. Also, coffee. “Shouldn't you be, you know, over there?”
He nods his head down the street and she giggles like he's made a joke.
“I just wanted to say good morning,” she says. It's unlikely that's true. “And I have this gig tonight? I thought maybe you'd want to come; hear me play.”
There it is.
Emma's been hitting on him since they first met a few weeks ago, and no matter how many gentle hints Isak drops that he's just not interested, thank you, she doesn't seem to get it.
He sighs.
“Emma,” he starts. “You're a very nice, pretty girl--”
“Oh,” she says, looking down dejectedly. “No, I get it.”
“Emma, I'm gay,” he says. “It's literally not you, it's me.”
She looks up with wide eyes and then laughs.
“Oh, shit. Sorry,” she says. “I usually have way better gaydar.”
He feels his shoulders relax in her presence for the first time and smiles back.
“It's chill,” he says.
She looks from him to Even, who's hovering by his shoulder, watching the entire exchange unfold.
“So, is this…?” she asks.
“Oh, no,” Isak says. “No, we're not-- just a friend.”
“Alright,” Emma says. “Well, if you want to come to my gig anyway, I'd be glad to have another friendly face in the crowd.”
Isak nods slowly and then digs out his phone in a spur-of-the-moment decision.
“Text me the details,” he says, handing it over for her to text herself from his phone and then text back.
“Will do,” she says, and hands his phone back after a few moments of tapping at the screen. “Have a good one.”
“You too,” he says, and reaches out to right her princess crown before she steps away and turns down the street.
“She's very nice,” Even observes.
“Yeah, I guess she's okay,” Isak allows.
“She intended to court you?” Even asks, looking at Isak with wide eyes.
Isak bursts into a surprised laugh at the turn of phrase but nods.
“Yeah,” he says.
“And you rejected her because you are… happy?” Even asks.
Isak blinks at him dumbly.
“No, not gay as in happy. Gay as in I like boys,” he says slowly.
“Oh!” Even says and flushes a little. He looks down at his shoes for a moment and then back up with a frown. “You have a preference for men? So much so that you would not consider marrying a woman?”
“God no,” Isak says immediately.
“Is that common in Oslo?” Even asks, curious.
“Er, it's not uncommon,” Isak says, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.
“Strange,” Even comments.
“Is that not how it is in Andalasia?” Isak can't help but ask.
“No,” Even says, with a wide smile. “Love is love. Man, woman or other, rich or poor… Andalasia does not care for such things in deciding where love falls.”
“Well, it's not really a decision...” Isak starts.
“It's not?” Even asks. “You just can't love women?”
His eyes go wide with devastation at the thought.
“Er,” Isak says.
Even rushes forward and wraps him up in a hug.
“I'm so sorry,” he says quietly.
Isak lets it happen for a second and then awkwardly pats him on the back.
“It's okay,” he says, finally peeling Even off him when he doesn't seem to intend to let go any time soon. “Some men only like men, some men only like women, some like anyone regardless of gender. It's all chill.”
Even looks his face over like he's looking for a hint that Isak's lying.
“This Oslo is a very strange place,” he finally says.
Isak laughs.
“Hey, we're not the ones getting married after three days,” he says.
“Well, including my days here it's already been six days,” Even corrects him and then sighs.
“Oh, excuse me; six days is so much better,” Isak drawls sarcastically.
Even frowns at him. “How long do you usually wait here in Oslo?”
“To get married? I don't know. A few years? Depends,” he says, smiles at a passing group of girls and hands them a few flyers. He's long since discovered that talking is completely superfluous to this. If he just sticks flyers in people's path as they're walking, most will grab them automatically. Whether they dump them in the closest trash can isn't his problem.
“Years?!” Even repeats, voice scandalised. “Why on earth would you wait so long once you've found the one?”
Isak laughs again.
“Because you can't know whether they're the one after just a handful of days? You hardly know each other!”
“Of course you do!” Even protests. “Your eyes will meet and your souls will recognise each other. It's true love, after all!”
“True love is a scam,” Isak says with a snort. “It's bullshit. Doesn't exist.”
Even doesn't reply, and when Isak glances over at him, he's looking at him with such a gobsmacked expression of shock that Isak has to laugh again and reach over to pat him on the arm.
“I'm sure it'll go well with your Sonja, but, come on. You have to know it can't be true love,” he says.
“How could you say that?” Even asks faintly. “God, what happened to you to make you doubt love like this?”
Isak has a whole laundry list of things he can blame for that, but he's not about to air that one out in public, and anyway, it's not really anything that 'happened to him'. It's just rational. People are ever-changing. Friendships are hard enough to keep going through the years, and people ironically put far more effort into those than they do romantic relationships. The idea that there's one person who'll effortlessly stick to your side your whole life isn't just laughable, it negates the work it really takes to maintain a long-term relationship and thus, even more ironically, makes it even harder to have one.
“It's just common sense,” Isak says with a shrug.
“So what do you people do in the years you wait to finally be united with the one you love?” Even asks, still completely bewildered.
Isak shakes his head almost fondly. If not for the worry that niggles at the back of his mind, he'd almost be able to forget that there's something very wrong with Even.
“You date,” he says. “You get to know one another. You find out each other's likes and dislikes, what you want from life, who you are. To know if you're compatible, and if you can live a life together.”
“Sounds like you're planting a vegetable patch,” Even quips, and Isak is startled into a laugh.
“Well, what do you do? You look into each other's eyes, follow true love towards each other and get married?”
“Yes,” Even beams. “And then you live happily ever after.”
“Well, but your Sonja's not here, is she,” Isak says, raising one eyebrow in slight provocation.
Even frowns at him.
“She will come,” he says. “I'm su--”
Even's gaze gets stuck on something past Isak's shoulder, and his frown is replaced with a smile that widens so much Isak thinks it must hurt a bit.
“Sonja!” he calls, and pushes past Isak without a second thought.
Isak turns around to stare after him, expression slack in surprise as a girl's voice answers with a call of Even's name, and then Even scoops a girl with short blond hair in the largest amount of dress Isak has ever seen up into his arms and twirls her around right there in the street. People around them are staring, but most of them with smiles on their faces as the young (ridiculously dressed) lovers reunite and make a spectacle of themselves. Probably most people think this is part of some sort of promotion too.
Isak can't shake the thought that this probably means that Even was telling the truth as he watches him put Sonja back down and pull her into a truly spectacular looking kiss.
He swallows harshly and shifts his weight on his feet.
Or folie à deux. It could be that.
Almost on autopilot he pulls out his phone and snaps a photo of Even and Sonja who are still kissing, uncaring of the world passing them by, and sends it to Jonas.
Jonas
Sonja, apparently???
????
Bro
omg
was he telling THE TRUTH????
Before Jonas can answer, Even and Sonja have made their way over, hands clasped tightly between them, twin bright smiles on their faces.
“Isak!” Sonja laughs and throws her arms around Isak's neck in a hug so forceful he has to take a step backwards so as not to topple over. “Thank you so much for taking care of my Even.”
“Yeah, sure,” Isak says, pushing her off carefully. “No biggie.”
Sonja looks at him as strangely as Even has been doing, and then over at her fiancé.
“He means he did so gladly. People her speak very strangely,” Even explains.
“Well,” Sonja says, with an air of finality. “We'd better get back home. Mother is waiting.”
Isak watches Even stiffen at the mention of Sonja's stepmother.
“Oh, but,” he says, hesitating and looking around. “Don't you want to have a look around? We're only here once, after all. We could go on a date!”
“A date?” Sonja asks, frowning in confusion.
“Yes! To get to know one another. Talk. About what we like and dislike. About what kind of life we want together.”
Sonja's still frowning.
“A happy one,” she says. “Which we will have, right after we wed and I am queen.”
Even swallows, and Isak shifts on his feet again, trying to work out if he should get involved in this somehow. It doesn't seem like Even wants to go back yet, and if Sonja's stepmother tried to get rid of him, he can't exactly say he blames him for wanting to stick around a while longer while he figures out how to deal with that whole thing. Sonja doesn't seem to know that her stepmother harbours less than charitable feelings for her fiancé.
“Just for a few hours?” Even coaxes.
Sonja studies his face and passes a hand down his cheek gently.
“You'd tell me if you were feeling off again,” she says, more like a statement than a question.
Even gives a jerky little nod.
“I just want to show you this world,” he says quietly. “We'll go right back to be married when the date is done.”
“Oh, alright,” Sonja relents.
She turns from Even back to Isak and gives him a regal smile.
“Thank you again, Isak. We'll take our leave from you now. It's no biggie.”
Isak bites down a laugh and nods.
“Sure, yeah,” he says. “Good luck with, er, the wedding.”
“We don't need luck,” she says, “we have true love.”
Even beams down at her, and then smiles at Isak, a little more softly.
“Goodbye, Isak,” he says. “Thank you so much. I hope you'll find someone to convince you that love can be everything you don't want to believe in.”
Isak swallows against a sudden lump in his throat and stares at Even for a moment too long.
“Yeah. Thanks,” he says. “Goodbye.”
Even breaks their gaze to look back at Sonja, and Isak watches them walk down the street until he loses sight of them in the crowds.
Holy shit. What just happened.
Jonas
They've gone. What just happened.
Sorry, bro :(
?
love you <3
Isak frowns at the screen and then shoves his phone back into his pocket, going back to distributing flyers.
Emma texts the address to her gig just as Isak steps into the flat after he gets home, and since he's not really in the mood to be here right now, he tells Jonas they're going out and gets changed before leaving again, Jonas in tow. They get kebabs and talk about their day, though Isak avoids the subject of Even without really knowing why, and Jonas doesn't push. He can't figure out what he's feeling, only knows that his head's gotten all messed up over this.
Well, the proof of the theory of parallel universes might do that.
The gig turns out to be in some little basement bar, and Emma runs over to hug Isak hello when she spots them before her eyes move to Jonas and then back to Isak significantly.
He laughs.
“Nope, we're also just friends,” he says.
“Damn, you've got some hot friends,” Emma says and winks at Jonas when he stares at her, clearly taken aback.
“Even and Sonja are here too!” she says before she flounces off again.
“She got over you fast,” Jonas comments, and Isak grins at him and claps him on the back.
“Did the tiny girl scare you with her compliment? Shall I buy you a beer for the shock?” he asks.
“Oi, fuck off,” Jonas grumbles, but he follows Isak over to the bar and does indeed make him buy a beer for them each.
“Oh, looks like Even and his princess have acclimatised,” Jonas says and gestures across the bar when Isak turns to him.
Isak follows his gaze and gets tuck on Even and Sonja, tucked into the chairs of a table by the side of the stage, both dressed in regular street clothes that Isak has no idea how they acquired. Come to think of it, he also has no idea how they know Emma or why they're here, evidently still on their date.
Sonja is dressed in a short, tight dress that shows off her legs, feet stuck in a pair of relaxes sneakers. Even is in tan khakis and a burgundy shirt under a hooded denim jacket.
He looks--
Shit.
He looks like the reason Isak's heartbeat is spiking and his belly is suddenly full of butterflies. He looks like the reason Isak's been feeling off-kilter all day. He looks like someone Isak wants to date and test all of Even's stupid, ridiculous notions about love with.
And he's engaged. To a princess. From a magical parallel universe. Because of course he is, this is exactly the kind of thing that would happen to Isak.
“They look cute,” Jonas comments idly. “A bit tense though, for fairytale lovers about to 'be wed.’”
Isak looks over at them again from where he took a moment to stare down into his glass of beer and compose himself and notices the tense line of Even's shoulders, the way Sonja has her arms crossed in front of her body, and there's definitely more space between them than there was when they flounced off into the metaphorical sunset earlier.
“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat against the scratchiness in his voice.
Jonas looks over at him and nudges him in the arm with his elbow. Isak smiles back.
God, but this is ridiculous.
“Hi everyone,” Emma's amplified voice suddenly interrupts his train of thought, and he gladly takes the opportunity to invest his attention anywhere that isn't Even or his own feelings.
“We're Snow White and the Giants, and we want to make some music for you tonight,” she says, and there's a smattering of applause and cheers from the audience. Isak feels himself smile. She looks like she's having a good time. Good for her.
“This first one's called 'Mirror, Mirror',” she says and does an exaggerated shrug to show she's fully aware of how stupidly on brand that is for a band with their name.
Isak and a few others laugh, and then the drummer counts them in and they're off.
The songs are good, and fast, and get almost everyone nodding at least their head along. A few girls get up to dance by the stage, one of them glancing Jonas' way every now and then and eventually comes over to pull them into the thick of it, hand never letting go of his. Isak laughs some more, until he catches sight of Sonja throwing her hands through the air in a wild gesture as she's clearly arguing with Even. Even says something back and then gets up and pushes his way through the crowd towards the exit.
Isak doesn't think, just moves towards him and grabs his arm.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks.
Even startles out of his grip, but settles when he recognises Isak.
“Isak,” he says, sounding tired. “Yes, I'm alright. Thank you.”
Isak's not convinced. He glances back at the stage and then at the exit.
“Want to get a bit of fresh air?” he suggests.
Even smiles a small smile at him and nods, so Isak leads the way outside.
The night air hits him the moment they step outside, making him realise how hot and stuffy it had gotten downstairs in the bar, and Isak takes a greedy lungful of it in. Beside him, Even does the same. They stand there breathing for a bit, before the silence starts itching under Isak's skin, urging him to say something.
“So, how did the date go?” he asks, glancing at Even out of the corner of his eye.
Even sighs and his whole body seems to deflate with it.
“That good, huh?” Isak tries to joke.
Even gives a weak smile.
“She just doesn't want to hear any of what I have to say. She has our whole lives planned out for us; what we're going to do once we're queen and king, how many children we will have, what kind of plants she wants in the summer residence gardens,” he says. “I thought happily ever after meant we'd decide together.”
Isak frowns.
“I mean, I'm no expert, but I think it should.”
“Thank you,” Even says, but then shrugs. “It's because I have these moods. Sometimes they're wild fancies about all sorts of impossible things, and I won't be able to stop being excited by everything, and then other days I can't even make myself get out of bed, or eat, or wash. Most days it's… both, somehow. But less.”
He scuffs the toes of his sneaker against the concrete underneath their feet.
“She's just looking out for me, telling me what's best.”
Isak frowns.
“But she can't really know what you feel or think; only you can,” he says. “You should still get to decide for yourself.”
Even looks up and over at him with wide eyes, not saying anything for a few moments.
“Thank you,” he says again, quietly. “I'll try and make her see that.”
Isak frowns some more, because if what they have is true love and all, then surely she should already know that, but before he can say anything of the sort, a woman comes running up to them, calling out to Even.
“Even! Even, dear, oh thank god you're safe!” she says and wraps her arms around Even as soon as she reaches them.
Even freezes in her embrace.
“Y-your Majesty,” he stammers, and Isak's eyes go wide.
“Oh, we've all been so worried! Has Sonja found you yet? We need to go home to her at once!” the woman says, holding Even by the shoulders even as she moves back to peer into his face.
“She's inside,” Even mumbles.
“Oh, wonderful,” the queen says, and then pinches at Even's cheeks. “Oh, you look all tired, dear. What a dreadful ordeal this must have been for you.”
She digs through the purse clutched under her arm and hands Even a piece of candy.
“Here, it'll pep you right up,” she says. “I'll go inside to fetch Sonja and we'll go home, put this whole ugly business behind us. We have a wedding to attend after all, don't we?”
Her smile is sunny, and slowly but surely, Even's matches hers and he nods.
“Yes, of course,” he says.
“There's a good boy,” the queen says, and pulls him into another hug.
“Oh, I'm so glad you're safe,” she repeats, and then steps away and walks towards the bar's entrance.
Isak stares after her.
“I guess she doesn't hate you after all,” he says.
“I guess so,” Even says, laugh in his voice. “That must mean Sonja and I are meant to be after all, don't you think?”
Isak looks over at him and indulges in a second of his heart squeezing inside his chest.
“Yeah, I suppose,” he says.
Even peels the wrapper off the candy and takes a satisfied bite from it, chewing and humming a little at the taste. Isak can't help the soft smile on his face. If he had more time, he thinks, he could come to love this boy who has more sunshine and optimism trapped inside him than Isak has ever seen in a person.
And then Even stares down at the candy bar, gives a faint little 'oh', and keels right over. Isak barely manages to catch him, stumbling to his knees and then the ground.
“Even?!” he calls frantically and grabs Even's wrist to check for a pulse. It's slow, but steady.
“Even?!” a new voice joins them, and a moment later Sonja kneels by them, pulling Even from Isak's arms.
“You!” she spits, glaring at him. “What have you done to him?!”
“Me?” Isak asks, scrambling backwards, the concrete rough under his hands. “I didn't do anything! He took a bit from the candy your stepmother gave him and just collapsed!”
“My mother?! Oh, nice try, villain!” Sonja glares. “You just want him all to yourself! He's told me all about the doubts about our love you've planted in his head!”
“I didn't do anything!” Isak yells again. “Can't you help him somehow instead of shouting at me?!”
“The only thing that can cure a sleep like this is true love's kiss!” Sonja yells back.
Dimly, Isak notes that a crowd has formed by the bar's entrance, Sonja's mother among them, staring at them intently. He can't deal with that right now though.
“Well, then fucking kiss him!” he shouts at Sonja.
He doesn't care if this is a smack in the face of the tiny plant of hope he couldn't stop from growing in his heart like an annoying weed he can't seem to pluck out. So long as Even wakes up, so long as he's fine, Isak doesn't care.
“Right,” Sonja says, faintly, and then leans down to press a kiss to Even's lips.
Isak feels like the whole world is holding its breath with him when she sits back up and stares down at the sleeping boy in her arms.
Nothing happens.
“No...” she whispers, and the panic in her voice is enough to squeeze at Isak's heart for her a little bit.
“No, it has to work,” she mumbles and leans down to kiss him again; a second time, a third.
Even doesn't stir.
Somewhere a church bell starts striking.
“If you haven't woken him by the last stroke of midnight, he'll stay like that,” the queen points out.
Isak glares over at her.
“This is your doing! Just because you don't want Sonja to replace you as queen!”
The queen gasps and puts a hand over her heart. “Preposterous! I love my daughter and Even like they’re my own!”
Sonja looks between them with furrowed brows, but when the clock strikes for the fifth time, she looks back down at Even.
“It has to be you, then,” she says, and her head comes back up to stare at Isak.
“Me?” he repeats.
The clock strikes seven.
“Yes, you! Who else? He's so quick to love,” she says softly.
“But-” Isak tries to protest, but Sonja glares at him.
“Does it hurt to try?” she snaps.
Only if he doesn't wake up, Isak thinks.
The clock strikes ten.
Isak falls to his knees, ignoring the pain that shoots up his spine and leans into Sonja's space, over Even's face.
“Please wake up,” he whispers, and presses as light a kiss as he dares to Even's lips. They're warm even now. Isak would gladly kiss them for far longer than a strike of the clock, if only Even woke up.
He sits back up on the stroke of twelve, Sonja and he staring down at Even with baited breath. At first there's nothing, but then Even gasps and opens his eyes, looking first at Sonja and then at Isak.
“You're here,” he says.
Isak isn't sure which one of them he's talking to, but Sonja helps Even sit up and then moves away from him, giving Isak a pained little smile.
This time, Isak's heart squeezes tight entirely for her, even as it wants to expand when Even reaches out to pull him into a hug.
“We should go on a date,” he whispers into the juncture of Isak's neck and shoulder, and Isak can't help but laugh, burying the sound into Even's hair so he doesn't do something silly like cry.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “We'll do that.”
“Well,” the queen says. “This is rather unexpected, isn't it. But it looks like you won't be queen for a while longer.”
Isak looks up just in time to see Sonja pull herself up to her full height and stare her step-mother down.
“So it was you,” she says, voice cold. “You poisoned Even with the sole intention of keeping me from the throne.”
“The throne is mine,” the queen hisses.
“No, mother,” Sonja says, and lifts her hand to wave someone forward. Two men in black suits step forward from… somewhere in the shadows and grab the queen by the arms. “You are no longer queen. You never should have been, if this is how you treat your subjects. When you treat the man your daughter intended to marry like that! You'll be stripped of your title the moment we're back home in Andalasia.”
“You can't do that!” the queen protests.
“I can do that and worse,” Sonja says. “I am my mother's natural-born successor, after all, and your reign, queen regent, is over.”
Sonja nods at the two men, and they drag the protesting former queen regent off down the street and into a nondescript black car. Honestly, where did Sonja get all this stuff?
Even gets to his feet and reaches a hand out for Isak to help him up as well, brushing some of the dirt off his shirt as soon as he's done so.
“Thank you,” he says.
Isak stares at him incredulously. “No biggie.”
Even snorts a laugh and knocks their shoulders together.
Sonja clears her throat, and Isak tears his eyes away from the way Even's seem to sparkle even in the dark of the night.
“I'm glad you're alright, Even,” she says, quietly.
Even looks at her softly, and moves to pull her into a hug.
“You'll be a great queen,” he says.
“You're staying?” she asks, hugging him back.
“Yeah,” Even says, and pulls back. “I want to stay with Isak. Date.”
Sonja shakes her head with a fond smile, like the idea is still somewhat ridiculous to her.
“Good luck to you both, though I suppose you won't need it.”
Isak thinks of their kiss and blushes, but Even grabs his hand and smiles.
“Thank you. Luck is always good to have,” he says.
Sonja nods, and then steps aside when Even pulls Isak over to Jonas.
“Um,” Jonas says. “I really only got half of that, but does that mean we have a new roommate?”
“Is it customary to share a bed when one has only just begun to 'date'?” Even asks, frown wrinkling his forehead.
“Not really, no,” Jonas.
“Oh,” Even says, clearly disappointed.
Isak laughs and gives into the impulse to reach up and smooth a finger over the wrinkles in Even's brow.
“We can decide how we want to do this ourselves,” he says. “That's the beauty of it. There aren't any rules here.”
“No?” Even asks, face lighting up again.
Isak nods with a smile of his own.
“Well, then I suppose you will be having a new roommate,” Even turns to Jonas to say.
Jonas grins and shakes his head at them.
“Yeah, alright. That's chill,” he says.
Isak turns to look over his shoulder, feeling oddly like he needs to say goodbye to Sonja properly before they leave to go home, and finds her chatting to Emma, who's bouncing on the balls of her feet a little with excitement. Huh. Emma hands Sonja the purse she's got slung over a shoulder and they both laugh, Sonja leaning in to give Emma a hug. Emma lingers in it for a moment before pulling away. Huh.
Before Isak has the chance to say anything, Emma looks up and over at him like she could tell he was staring and comes jogging up to him.
“So, Sonja's going back to Andalasia, and I'm going to go with her; visit for a bit,” she says.
“Uh,” Isak replies. “Okay?”
“Could you tell Eskild I won't be coming in for work?”
“Oh. Sure.”
“Okay! Great! Thanks!” Emma grins, and then throws her arms around him in another hug. “And thanks for introducing me to Sonja, sort of. She's, like, really cool, yeah?”
“Yeah, she is,” Isak has to admit, because what she just did for Even and him, and to her stepmother, that can't have been easy. But there she is, standing tall and smiling and making a new, er, friend. Queen consort, maybe. Emma did always like playing the princess.
“Alright, cool. I'll see you around,” she says, and then makes her way back over to Sonja, who waves at them before leading Emma to the car idling a little further down the road.
Isak, Even, and Jonas watch as the car pulls away, the crowd around them finally dispersing.
“Well then,” Jonas says. “I don't know about you, but I could go for some midnight fries? I'm kinda hungry after all this excitement.”
“Fries?” Even asks, curious.
“Dude,” Jonas says, eyes wide. “You don't have fries in Andalusia?”
“Andalasia,” Isak corrects.
“No,” Even says. “What are those? Are they as good as pizza?”
“Oh, you, my friend, are in for a truly delightful, greasy treat,” Jonas promises. “You're going to love it here.”
Even beams at him, and then looks down at Isak, hesitating for a moment before he leans in to kiss his cheek.
“Yeah,” he says. “I think I am.”
The End