Ivar the Boneless Imagines

Newly Single

Can you do "I forgot I was a single parent." w ivar ?

It was 7:38pm.

The last parent pick up for the after-school program was a little under an hour ago and you were still sitting with little Baldur in your classroom.

"And here comes the semi, oh no!" You ran a blocky red toy truck over Baldur's blue one along the city map of the rug. Baldur made some random noises, thready and weak. You clap jovially when he clangs his car into yours, destroying not just your car but the tower of wooden blocks just beside you. A repetitive clack, clack, clack at the window causes your attention to lurch.

"Stay here Baldur, let me get the door for your far." You tell the little boy. He glances through his chestnut hair toward the door, racing you to the door despite you telling him to contain himself. You pull the door apart, revealing a man standing behind the heavy wooden door. Ivar is supported by his crutch. Lazy dark jeans and a smooth black t-shirt make up his drab attire, perfect along his muscles.

"Mr. Ragnarsson." You smile.

"Miss (Y/N)." Ivar hobbles in, patting Baldur's back. "Go get your things."

The little boy speeds off like a bullet toward his backpack and the two of you wait patiently.

"He wasn't complaining of any soreness today. The tremor was strong, but he is powering through it." Of course, as a teacher and speech therapist, you feel the pressure to interact with Ivar in his absence. He gives a small sigh after a brief few seconds, watching his son gather his things up as fast as he could.

"I'm sure this isn't how you wanted to spend your Valentines." Ivar bites his lip, running his tongue along his lower lip smoothly. "I forgot I was a single father."

Rather than Freydis constantly picking up Baldur, since her death, it was been Ivar alone. He had a demanding job to begin with at the government's defense and cybersecurity plant.

"I understand, Mr. Ragnarsson. Single parenting is hard but I didn't have a date anyway." You rock back and forth. Your skirt sways with you when Baldur careens into your leg, giving you his form of a goodbye before he moves to stand in front of his father.

"A woman like you doesn't have a date?" Ivar says.

"Like me?" You tease.

"Educated. Beautiful." Ivar says pointedly. By thirty-two, you probably should have been married and with kids by now. But you weren't. That was just how the world worked.

"Now he flatters me." You laugh.

"It's only the truth." Ivar's lip quirks, smiling. "You shouldn't spend the day alone. Come have ice cream with us."

That would be a huge violation of your relationship with Ivar as Baldur's speech therapist and teacher for his son's spasmodic dysphonia. And still... you find yourself intrigued with Ivar's quick wits and smooth tongue.

"It's just ice cream?" You say, looking back to your purse thrown lazily over the desk. There was only paperwork to do. You could do that from home, right? Besides, what teacher was going to stay at home and be miserable on a day of love? Not that you were sure how you felt about the Ragnarsson– but still.

"I promise." Ivar lies.

"Just this once."