Idun was genuinely, horribly, irreversibly bewildered. He remembered telling her about the rift. He remembered walking across the rift. And everything else was gone. He didn't remember how Idun hadn't actually walked over anything, he'd lifted her and deposited her gently on the opposite side of the rift, all while kissing her until she was breathless. Bragi recalled parting ways, but he didn't remember the way she never offered parting words. The way she couldn't find a single thing to say before he was gone.
She didn't know if she was allowed to feel hurt. It was just a kiss. Two kisses, technically. And he didn't even remember it happening. That only served to make Idun feel foolish. For fourteen days, that kiss had interrupted every thought she tried to have. That kiss, Bragi's smile, the mischief in his eyes that made her itch for an adventure. Not just any adventure, though, one with him. She kept thinking about him and working herself into a tighter ball of frustration and he hadn't even given her a thought! He woke up that morning and decided upon a visit, but beyond that, she'd never even crossed his mind.
Suddenly, Idun hated transitional rifts. She hated them with a burning passion that made her want to cry. She knew nothing of them until Bragi came along, and now she knew all about them and she hated them. She hated rifts, and she hated how much she knew about his lips, his touch, his taste. She hated both those things. Oddly enough, however, that second bit of hatred didn't stop her from setting down her knife and their apple, shifting up onto her knees, and touching her hand softly to the side of his jaw. Her fingertips brushed the curls at the nape of his neck. Idun hated his touch, his lips, his taste, but she studied his gaze curiously all the same, seeking out permission, recognition, something, and then she kissed him.
The world went silent. The birds stopped chirping, the wind stopped rustling through the trees. Nothing moved except for Idun, except for her lips pressed softly against Bragi's, except her fingers once again curling through his hair. The kiss was slow and gentle and simple, just touching, just existing together with one point of contact connecting them. She lost track of time and space and decided she could live here happily, in this moment, in this kiss. And then she leaned back and dropped her hand to her lap.
"You don't remember that?" she whispered, eyes still closed. She could feel his breath, she was still so close. Idun swallowed hard. The third kiss was even better than the first and second had been. Better than the both of them combined. She could feel her pulse and it was very clearly faster than was necessary, but she couldn't wonder why because it was more important to just wait for his response. He needed to remember. How could she be the only one touching her lips at random intervals and smiling despite all the frustration?