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She was nearly asleep once they turned off the highway, and it had only eased Nikola’s nerves a little bit when she had finally closed her eyes, not that there was much to see that was recognisable now with the snow falling as heavy as it was.
But despite the blanket of white, he couldn’t help himself from tensing with every twist and turn, half certain that every corner of the smaller, unfamiliar road would wake her properly.
He needn’t have worried as much though. Helen, tucked up tight in her thick woollen coat with the buttons done all the way to the top, just seemed too tired and sleepy to realise they had gone off course.
She dozed on as they continued on their way, barely making a sound as sleep pulled her deeper and her breathing evened out into those soft, slow puffs of air.
It had never been a part of the original plan, her falling asleep, but it had certainly worked in his favour. The original plan had consisted of getting her at least partway before she started asking questions and he would have to spill the beans. But now he could feel this strange sort of excitement building, mixing in with his nerves as he brought them closer, mile after mile without her being any the wiser as to what he was up to.
It was funny, he thought, after a minute or two of quiet driving, he should have really expected it, because after all these years this was actually one of those little pieces about her, the tiniest of things that had never once changed.
It was an absolute fact he was sure, a perfectly adorable, sweet one he was sorry he never coined before because he was going to store this information away in his mind along with all the other precious things he knew.
And it was such a simple thing really, simple and precious.
Helen had never been able to stay awake properly when they travelled together. Not at night and not once she got warm.
It made him smile just thinking about it.
Even as far back as oxford, perched in the back of a carriage, she would struggle to keep her eyes open. He remembered fondly all the times once the blanket was tucked in over her lap, and how her chatter would slow, turning into yawn after yawn within minutes.
He loved those nights, those evenings where they would set off in the dark.
The snow back then had also fallen quite thickly, turning everything in the city from its usual murky grey into a fine shimmering white, and although there were no buildings of any kind deep in the forest as they were, it was just as silent now as it was then.
She would always end up falling asleep with her head resting against his shoulder and for a short ride home it would seem as if the rest of the world had disappeared.
Her head now rested against the window with her scarf serving as a pillow. And as he turned the last corner, he glanced at her for what felt like the hundredth time since she had closed her eyes, the same awe filling his chest as it did in those early days.
He sighed as they came to a stop, letting the breath go slowly before turning off the car and plummeting them into darkness, the only light that shined now was what spilled from the window of a small cottage just ahead.
It looked exactly as the owner had said it would, which was a blessing because he had high hopes for this tiny little place.
Slowly, with hands steadier then he felt, he unclipped his belt, reaching over to do the same for Helen before gently brushing back her fringe and calling her name.
She made a tired sort of noise, turning her head a little more into his fingers before her eyes fluttered open.
“We home?” she asked blearily, rubbing her face with both hands.
“Not quite.”
He gave her a small smile as she turned to look at her surroundings, wanting to lean over and kiss the tiny little crease that formed between her eyes.
“Nikola, where are we?”
“You don’t recognise it?” he asked softly.
Helen shook her head.
His smile deepened and slightly elated he stepped out of the car, quickly wrapping his coat about himself as he came round to open her door, “come,” he said, offering his hand, “I got you something.”
They left tracks as they walked, two sets of prints side by side slowly making there way towards the cottage, Helen held his arm, standing close enough that he could steady her if she should slip.
It reminded him again of when they were young and he walked with her between their classes.
“I thought I told you no presents,” Helen remarked, the cold air making her breath mist and swirl in front of them.
“I know.”
“So, you thought you would get one anyway?”
“This one doesn’t count.” He told her, patting her hand.
“Oh, really? And how’s that?
He could hear the smile in her voice, and it eased that tight little knot of nerves he still harboured over this simple plan.
“it’s rented,” he answered lightly waving his hand, “you don’t get to keep it.”
She chuckled. “Trust you to find your own unique interpretation of what does and doesn’t count.”
“it’s Christmas eve, Helen,” he said as they drew closer to the cottage door, it had a reef on it, evergreen with dried orange slices and pine cones. “I always get you something. Do you recognise it yet?”
Still she shook her head, totally bewildered.
Nikola chuckled, “it was just after our study session with the praxian map, when we got up that projection of earth? You had us fly out here with my verry own brand of GPR. We passed this place on the way back.”
She was staring at him now, a warm smile spreading across her lips as they halted at the threshold.
“You said you liked it,” he went on, “thought it would look good when it snowed.”
Helen stepped in close, her hands coming up to brush a few flakes of snow from his shoulders before encircling his neck. His arms automatically came around to hold her, and she moved forward so her nose brushed against his.
“That was twenty years ago Nikola.”
“I know,” he grinned, “I’ve been told I have a good memory.
She laughed, leaning in to kiss him and before they broke apart, he reached out with one hand and opened the door.
“We have the place for three days. Merry Christmas my love.”