Kala booked an apartment in the Dublin 2 area, showing her photos on his phone of the buildings near Merrion Square and St. Stephen’s Green. When Risa asked why he’d chosen that specific spot, he casually replied that it was the best location for exploring everywhere on foot. This was how their vacations always went: she would happily sit back and let Kala handle the logistics. His navigation skills weren't just elite in the air; he was just as sharp on the ground as a civilian.
The trip from the airport to Dublin 2 took about 25 to 35 minutes via the Dublin Port Tunnel. They took a taxi for convenience, and as Kala busied himself unloading the suitcases, Risa stood transfixed. Before her was a uniform row of tall, Georgian houses in red brick and deep brown, famous for their vibrant doors. There were brilliant reds, royal blues, forest greens, and bright yellows all lined up in a neat row. Above each door sat a semicircular fanlight with an intricate, delicate frame.
"Thanks a million, Sir! Appreciate it," Kala said warmly as he paid the fare, earning a wide grin from the driver before he pulled away.
Risa turned and took her suitcase from him. "Is this a self check-in, Mas?" she asked, pulling her parka tighter as the Dublin wind lashed at her.
"No, there’s a caretaker." Kala adjusted his beanie, looking a bit chilled himself.
A middle-aged man in a wool flat cap and a thick vest was already standing in front of a peacock-blue door, as if he’d been awaiting their arrival since dawn. There didn't seem to be many tourists this early in the month—honestly, who would come to Dublin in this weather if not them? Word was that January had been the peak of the winter chill.
“Welcome to Dublin, folks. Grand morning, isn’t it?” the man greeted them. His accent was fast, melodic, and unmistakably Irish.
Kala nodded to the caretaker, who held the solid wooden door open for them. The man handed over a heavy physical key with a brass keychain. “The Sterling Suites, second floor. Everything is set for you,” he said with a friendly smile.
“Cheers. Everything’s in order inside, I assume? Great. Thanks for meeting us out here in the cold,” Kala replied.
Risa could only offer a small nod when she caught the man’s eye, too impatient to get inside and warm up. As they stepped through the threshold, the scent of old wood and the embrace of the central heating greeted them, instantly chasing away the chill that had clung to them since the airport. Despite its grand impression, the building was clearly a piece of history.
Kala had explained that original Georgian houses in Dublin typically consisted of only three or four stories. Because of their status as heritage sites, owners were strictly forbidden from altering the internal structure to install elevators. Since their unit was on the second floor, they had to climb a grand wooden staircase, draped in deep red velvet carpet that spiraled elegantly toward the upper levels.
"I can carry my own suitcase, Mas," she complained, watching Kala head up the stairs ahead of her with her luggage.
"Just go up. Don't argue. Your backpack is heavy enough as it is, isn't it?"
Reluctantly, she muttered, "Fine. Okay." Risa followed him up the stairs.
Since Kala had the key, Risa waited by the door, watching him go back down to fetch the last bag. She smiled to herself, amused by the fact that she could never really win an argument against his orders. When Kala reached the landing, he gave her head a few playful pats while fishing the brass key from his black parka pocket. Before sliding it into the lock, he glanced at Risa, who was still busy rubbing her palms together.
"Welcome to Dublin, Love," Kala said, adopting a thick, gravelly Dublin accent that perfectly mimicked the man downstairs. "Everything’s looking grand, isn't it?"
Risa froze for a second, then burst out laughing. "Mas! It’s been ten minutes and your accent has already turned into a Dublin taxi driver’s?"
Kala smirked mischievously, turning the key until it gave a heavy click. "When in Dublin, do as the Dubs do, Liefje. For your information, I’m a driver too—just a driver of planes."
He closed the heavy apartment door, locking the cold world away behind thick oak. Risa stood in the warm hallway, watching Kala place the brass key on the console table. She cleared her throat, wanting to try her hand at the melodic lilt she'd heard earlier.
"So, we’re finally in Dab-lin..." Risa narrowed her eyes, trying hard to soften her 'R's. "Is dis a kidnappin', den?"
Kala paused, one eyebrow arching. A few seconds later, he doubled over in laughter. "What... what accent was that, Liefje? Irish, or someone with a mouth full of canker sores?" He stepped closer, the corners of his mouth still twitching. “Yes, it’s a kidnapping. And you’re going to be a very well-loved prisoner.”
Risa rolled her eyes, turning away to hide the flush creeping into her cheeks. “I’m taking that room,” she said, pointing to one of the two bedrooms.
She hurried into the room she’d chosen, trying to steady a heart that had suddenly gone wild at his flirting. The room featured a large window overlooking Merrion Square; she could see the bare, skeletal branches of the trees shrouded in a thin mist. A knock sounded at the door—three times—and Kala stood in the doorway when she turned around.
“Let’s get some rest first, Liefje. We’ll head out for food a bit later,” he said with a soft smile.
Risa nodded, though she couldn't hide a playful smirk. “You don't want to sleep together?”
Kala looked up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes before pointing a finger at her. “Don’t tempt me.” He held her gaze, his expression just as mischievous as hers. “We wouldn't have needed to come to Dublin if 'that' was the goal, Liefje. I could have just rented a cheap room near an Amsterdam canal for a week and kept you locked in there.”
He turned and walked away before Risa could even fire back a witty retort. She knew he was protective, always maintaining a certain distance when they were outside his "territory." In other words, there would be no excessive PDA while they were on vacation; even during their last trip to America with Dea, there hadn't been a single kiss on the lips, even though he was well within his rights to ask.
Looking back out at the view, Risa smiled to herself. "Unbelievable."
She began updating her family back home and replying to a few messages. She unpacked quickly, kicked off her shoes, and climbed into bed for a quick nap. Thinking about her relationship with Kala made her smile as she closed her eyes, trying to drift off. If it weren't for him, she might have already been married and busy managing a household elsewhere.
"He's a patient man," she thought with a touch of pride.
Slowly, exhaustion took over, pulling her into a dream. When she finally woke up, about an hour and a half had passed. Risa opened her eyes feeling that familiar post-nap confusion. She checked her phone and saw several messages from Kala; half an hour ago, he’d asked where she wanted to eat. Truthfully, Risa would follow him anywhere, but he always asked so politely, prioritizing her comfort.