viii.
[When she woke up for the second time that day, she finally realized that enough was enough. Gathering her courage, mustering it all together as best as she could, she came up with the first bright idea she'd had in a long time. She took the lamp from the nightstand, walked up to the door, and she began to smash at it with everything she had. She smashed wildly, desperate movements, because she was sure that he could come home any moment now, at any time. So it made her work furiously hard until, at last, the door gave way. With that, she dropped everything, grabbed the sheets, and wrapped herself in it as she ran out. Skipping the elevators, she raced straight to the stairs and descended the several stories to a rainy day outside.
Freedom was so disorienting, and she almost thought she'd stop a taxi - but she knew better. She knew she'd get caught if she did that, and she didn't have any money on her. If she ran out onto the main streets, people would see her dashing around in sheets and someone would take her down and drown her in crazy pills. No. She'd have to go the long way around. The closest person, and the only person she could turn to, was Freyr. Of course she was afraid. She was scared to death that Freyr wouldn't help her anymore. He already blocked her number when she needed him the most. But Freyr wasn't cruel, was he?
Gerd gripped the sheets tightly around her body and darted into the shadows down the alley way. By the time she'd gotten to Freyr's apartment, she was soaking wet and so very cold. She wiped her eyes first. Then, clutching the sheets with one hand, she rained her fist down on the door with the other - over and over, too timid to cry for help.
The day had been a quiet one for Freyr. He had decided to stay in and work over some paperwork for appointments coming up during the week. He had been trying to keep busy with work, spending time with Freyja, and work to keep his mind from wandering over to Gerd, wondering what she was doing, where she was, if she was happy. No, he was supposed to move on from her, forget about her. It was for the best.
He was sitting back in on a comfortable chair, balancing a cup of tea and a stack of files when he hear the sudden pounding on the door. It sounded urgent though he was confused, he couldn't think who could be. So files and tea were quickly set aside as he rushed to the door but he stopped, silent once he opened it and saw who had been knocking so urgently.
He knew he should close the door, ignore her, shut her out for good but something kept him frozen to the spot, staring at her for what seemed like an eternity before he managed to gather his wits and without a second thought, he opened the door and ushered her in out of the cold.
Gerd squeezed her arms together and shuddered as she stepped inside. She huddled neatly and tightly against the corner, looking around as though the tall man might show up again and remind her what a stupid girl she was. After contemplating that for a moment, she started to cry all over again, full gauge. She couldn't help it. She'd been so stressed; and no one helped her.
"I'm sorry. I'm scared."
And she stood where she was, wet and cold, holding her sheets like a teddy bear. Within a few minutes she'd stepped up to Freyr and wrapped her arms around him before burying her face in his shoulder.
When she started to cry, whatever resistance he thought he had crumbled and when wrapped her arms around him, he couldn't help but wrap his arms around her and held her close. He brought his hand up and stroked her hair softly, trying to give her what comfort that he could. It didn't matter that his sister and Thor would most likely throw their hands up at this, he knew he had little resolve when it came to Gerd and apparently that would never change.
"It's alright, you're safe here," he assured her, holding her close against him.]