Morning light filtered through the windows of Erik's childhood bedroom, illuminating the figures within. Tension hung in the air, palpable and thick. Astrid stood rigid and alert, with wide eyes as she looked at an older version of the boy she once knew.
"You…" she stammered, all thoughts of Emma forgotten.
Her expression was a mix of disbelief, suspicion, cautious optimism, and simmering fury. Her stance was rigid, with muscles and nerves coiled tight, she was prepared to jump into action at the slightest provocation.
Erik, for his part, remained calm, yet with a dash of happy excitement, and kept his distance for now. His confidence remained unshaken, even in the face of Astrid's barely contained fury.
He understood the whirlwind of emotions she must be experiencing, although he wondered what would win out in the end. Relief and excitement, or suspicion and anger.
