Past Part Fills Part 2 -- CLOSED

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Silver Hair, Silver Heart - pt 2/?

[(Anonymous)]

Of course, Iceland didn’t tell him who he really was. He couldn’t. That was just ridiculous. It was impossible for him to be with a mere mortal, to spend his life with someone who would age, grow weary and eventually die. So he just enjoyed Sil’s company, wondering when it would all fall apart, when his secret would be exposed, and when Sil would leave him.

But he didn’t have long to wonder for when the last day of June arrived, Sil looked sad for the first time. I’m sorry, Sil had said. But I have to go. He seemed so unhappy and it broke Iceland’s heart. Impulsively, he’d thrown himself at Sil, kissing him. The first kiss he’d given anyone. It was awkward and when they broke apart, Iceland’s face felt like one of the volcanoes which dotted his country and he was sure Sil could feel the heat radiating off him.

But instead, Sil had disappeared into thin air.

Iceland waited days for Sil to return. Then weeks. Then months. He had his responsibilities on the mainland but he returned to Grimsey as often as he could, just in case. Autumn came and went. Then Winter began its descent, bringing with it the polar night. Entire days passed when the sun didn’t rise, but this was normal for a land so far north like Grimsey. He’d never noticed before, but there was something beautiful about polar night in Grimsey. Despite the freezing cold, Iceland would find himself drawn out from his hut, and he would sit for hours in the snow, mesmerised as the white blankets reflected the shimmering light from the stars. But it was the moon which was most beautiful. Why had he never noticed that before? It must just be his eyes playing tricks on him, but he swore the moon looked brighter and closer to the earth than it had in previous years, almost as though it were coming to greet him.

But soon enough, the snow melted, and it became Spring. Sunlight returned to Grimsey, and Iceland, reluctantly, returned to the mainland. Maybe if he busied himself with work, he could forget about that one month where it seemed that all his dreams had come true.

-----

On the last day of May, Iceland packed a small bag with light clothes in his home in Reykjavik. The sun was still out, even though it was nearly 10 o’clock at night. His hand unconsciously grabbed a stack of work papers. Then he hesitated. Should he bring them? He was still for a moment then shoved them into the bag. If Sil didn’t show then he would need something to occupy his time.

It was a short journey and when Iceland arrived, he found his hut unoccupied so he lay down on his bed to reluctantly read his papers. He dozed off unconsciously because when he awoke, it was June.

And Sil had returned.

More correctly, Iceland had stumbled out of his bed in search of coffee the next morning when he tripped over Sil who had been sleeping on his floor. Just like when they’d met last year.

Iceland had been waiting for this moment as a drowsy Sil stirred awake. But then he flushed red as the memory of them parting came flooding back. He’d kissed Sil. And if he remembered correctly, Sil hadn’t kissed him back. He suddenly felt immensely stupid. He’d been pining all this time, a whole year, not even knowing if his affections would be returned.

But he needn’t have worried, as Sil didn’t mention it. They just went on being friends. It was a load off Iceland’s mind, but there was a part of him which wanted more. So on the third day, Iceland confronted him.