After spending some time with Lucas and the others, Claire returned to Copenhagen.
Then Daniel happened.
He was her high school sweetheart who have always had a crush on her till they went their separate ways after their last exams.
Then they met one afternoon in campus after about two or three years, and had a Spark.
He was a fellow student in her second-year cohort—British, charming, naturally magnetic. They had a course they did together and that was how they reconnected.
So when she met Daniel again after graduation in high school—completely by chance at a seminar on international policy—he felt like a familiar book she'd once read, then shelved and forgotten.
They grabbed coffee once after they got paired for a policy simulation, and she said yes because it was harmless. Easy.
Then once turned into once a week, and once a week turned into late dinners and shared trams and laughter in between Danish grammar lessons.
They weren't supposed to date. But comfort is its own kind of gravity.
They started spending more time together. And Claire liked him. She really did. Daniel was witty, socially graceful, and emotionally available in the casual, uncomplicated way that made everything feel safe.
By the second year, they were a couple in name, if not entirely in heart.
He was kind. Steady. Easy to be around. And she told herself, This is good. This is safe.
But sometimes safe feels a little too quiet.
As months passed, cracks formed—small at first. Daniel had his own way of seeing the world, and it didn't always align with Claire's. He avoided depth when she needed honesty. He didn't ask about Lucas, but she felt the silence between them every time her phone buzzed with his name.
But Claire knew. Deep down, she always knew something wasn't sitting right.
It wasn't that Daniel wasn't enough.
It was that Claire had started to understand what enough really meant.
Daniel didn't ask questions that lingered. He never pressed on the things that mattered too much. When she was quiet, he filled the silence instead of waiting for her to speak. When she missed home—or him—Daniel smiled and kissed her forehead, as if that could replace honesty.
Still, she stayed. Claire just wanted to try with him.
One Saturday, he took Claire out on a date.
They met near Nørreport Station, and Daniel led her through winding streets to a small bakery tucked away from the tourist spots. It was the kind of place you wouldn't find unless someone told you where to look.
They sat outside on a bench, biting into warm, buttery pastries that flaked perfectly with every bite.
"I told you," Daniel said, brushing crumbs off his jeans.
Claire laughed, licking sugar off her thumb. "Okay, okay. You win."
He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. "So what else haven't you tried yet?"
And just like that, their weekend adventures began.
One Saturday turned into two. Then three.
They rented bikes and got lost in Østerbro. Had hotdogs near the harbor. Walked through the Assistens Cemetery while Claire told him about Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tales, and he listened like it was the first time he'd heard of them—even though it wasn't.
Daniel had this way of making her feel like everything she said mattered.
She liked that.
By the fourth weekend, they were sitting at a rooftop bar overlooking the city. The sun was just dipping below the horizon, painting the skyline in soft oranges and pinks.
"I like this city more when I'm with you," Claire said, almost too softly to be heard.
Daniel looked over at her. "Then stay close."
She turned to him, caught off guard.
"I mean it," he said. "I've never really done the whole... get attached thing. But with you, it doesn't feel forced."
Claire looked at him for a long moment. "You say things like that so easily."
He smirked. "I don't say them unless I mean them."
She didn't respond right away. But then she shifted closer, resting her head lightly on his shoulder.
And just like that, the city didn't feel so foreign anymore.
That night, as she walked back to her student housing, Claire couldn't stop smiling.
Copenhagen was still strange, still cold at times—but now it was a place where laughter echoed across cobbled streets, where coffee tasted warmer when shared, and where Daniel's hand brushing against hers could make her forget about everything else.
She didn't know where it would go.
But she knew where it was starting.