Adela and Egon finally left the kitchen, ready to comfort Andreas with a hearty, homemade bowl of soup. Their steps were light, their hearts still filled with the warmth of their earlier banter, and the fragrant aroma of the chicken soup clung to their clothes like a delicious memory.
As they entered the living room, they exchanged glances of surprise. The room was empty, void of the ancient vampire who had been the center of their conversation earlier.
With his free hand, the one not carrying the tray, he gently reached out and squeezed her hand. "Andreas needed some time alone."
Her gaze shifted from the vacant spot where Andreas had been sitting to Egon, her worry evident in her eyes. "But he was so upset earlier. I just hope he's okay."
Egon chuckled, a warm and boyish sound that never failed to make her heart flutter. "Why don't we have a taste ourselves?"
