Page 213 of Perfect
She’ssoexcited, and that calms me down more than anything else.
The flight is eight hours long and I get tired from the Xanax, but Alex is exhausted, so I keep asking for coffee so that I can stay awake and let her sleep. I start one of the books she’s got on her e-reader and watch a Norwegian crime drama on the small TV, but I glance over at her constantly, taking the blanket they gave me and putting it on top of the one she already has wrapped around her to make her even slightly more comfortable.
She makes a slight whimpering noise and her body jerks at one point, so I shake her hand gently until she wakes up. Her eyes snap open, and she seems nervous and tense for a moment until she sees me. Then, her face relaxes into relief, and she threads her fingers through mine and smiles at me before going back to sleep.
I spend the rest of the flight watching her.
***
At the car rental place, I learn that Alex can drive a manual. She proudly tells me that she’s been practicing in Boss’ truck, and I make a mental note to replace the transmission when she stalls the rental the second we get into it and grinds her way into each gear.
She’s excited and chatty as we drive the hour to Reykjavik, pointing out volcanic rock formations and tuning the radio to Icelandic pop music. I have no idea why she chose Iceland, and she’s been vague about it. When I ask her again, she shrugs and said she thought it sounded nice.
We stay in Reykjavik for two days, and Alex has a long itinerary with things for us to do and restaurants for us to try. The city is small and busy, but between never letting go of Alex and her being excited about absolutely everything, I start to relax enough to enjoy what we’re doing.
I follow her into museums and an insane-looking church, down shopping streets and through a flea market, where Alex looks at everything with delight. I buy the thick wool sweaters she chooses for us, and anything else she seems even remotely interested in, including a very stupid looking stuffed puffin.
She takes me to restaurants she chose specifically because she thought I’d like them and makes me try local foods like fermented shark and reindeer, although she looks at me reproachfully when I order whale and refuses to try it. The food is fantastic, but Alex having put so much thought into what I’d like is what I enjoy most.
Once we’re out of the city and drifting through the countryside, I realize Alex putmuchmore thought into what I’d like than I realized.
Iceland is beautiful and spacious, and taking a road trip around the island makes it so we’re always together and usually alone. We stay as far away from other people as possible and mostly in small cabins, including one made almost entirelyof glass. Alex packed our itinerary with hikes, waterfalls, restaurants, hot baths, and anything else that seems halfway interesting. She’s planned for us to always be doing or seeing something new, and after a year of horrible monotony, the constant stimulation relaxes me.
Our days are spent mostly fucking, hiking, and eating, which is exactly what I want to be doing anyway.
Alex carries around a sketchbook and spends time painting, and as she tries to capture the shocking blue of glacial ice or the sweep of green hills or the deep charcoals and blacks of the beaches, I sit with her just enjoying the scenery, or listening to the crackling sound of the ice splitting apart, or eyeing other tourists who get too close to us, or taking photos of Alex with the polaroid camera we brought.
I spend as much time inside of her as I can, in the rentals and the car and anywhere outside that I think we’ll be alone for a few minutes, constantly claiming her and making her moan and cry and whine and come for me. She’s needier in bed now, constantly wanting to be held tighter and fucked harder, always begging for more. She also wants to be in control more often, wants me to be good for her, and wants to fuck me as hard as I fuck her.
I didn’t think our sex life could get better, but I was wrong.
She’s more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her, peaceful in a way that feels contagious, and I can feel something unknotting inside of me slowly throughout the trip. At one point we’re relaxing in a large hot bath set into a lake, Alex floating on her back in front of me, the soft swells of her breasts and stomach and the tops of her thighs protruding from the water, and I realize that I haven’t felt anything but pure happiness for days.
There’s been no anxiety, no nightmares, no concern about Alex’s safety, no panic in the back of my mind that something’s about to go wrong, no nagging suspicion it’s all going to fallapart. There’s only a content, peaceful joy I’ve never experienced before, and I know it’s all because of her.
Sulfurous steam curls up around Alex’s face, and she opens her eyes and looks up at the bright, open sky before looking over at me, smiling with that hazy, relaxed look on her face she usually only gets after sex.
“I love you,” she whispers before closing her eyes again.
I have no idea how I ended up here, how any of this is real, but I want to stay with her in this feeling forever.
My mind drifts to the ring for the hundredth time, but it’s still not the right time.
She knows it’s coming. I carry the ring around with me everywhere, and even though she’s spent the last year telling me she’ll say yes, I still want to do it right. Whenever I think it might be the right time, it never is. There are always too many other people around, or Alex is too distracted sightseeing, or I get too overwhelmed and fuck her instead.
Even after everything, it still feels like the easiest way to connect with her.
***
About two weeks into our trip, we wake up early to go whale watching in a small town in the north of the island. I lean against the boat’s railing as it sails out of the harbor, staring down at a sleepy, excited Alex, the early morning sun illuminating the hair whipping around her head in a halo.
I barely listen to the tour guide, barely look out at the water, barely even notice the birds and seals and whales that Alex loses her mind over. Instead, I watch her looking out at the water and think about the last time we did this, which was the first time it felt easy with her, the first time she actually smiled at me.
A familiar hum resonates inside me, followed by a powerful impulse, and I grin as I lean down towards her, pressing my lips against her ear.
“Alex?” I have to speak loudly over the sounds of the wind and waves and the seabirds, but even I can hear how soft my voice sounds. She pulls down the binoculars, takes one look at my face, and she starts to cry immediately, dropping her binoculars against her chest and nodding quickly.
“Yes,” she says, kissing me hard, and I laugh against her mouth.
