Wandering Spirits

Chapter 17

The banging on the apartment door cut through the silence like a sharp knife.
In the faint morning light seeping in through the half-closed curtains, Storm jerked and sprang up from the bed. His heart drummed in his chest as he froze for a moment; that kind of unexpected sounds were not normal in his usually peaceful morning routine.

Beside him, her blonde hair swirled a vortex of light against the dark pillow. Her eyes, deep and brown like an endless forest night, slowly opened, uncertainty immediately visible in them. He placed his finger over his lips, signaling for silence, and whispered so softly that it almost drowned in the sound of their shared breath: "Just stay lying down, don't move, be completely still."

His blue eyes swept across the room, tousled red hair standing in all directions as if mirroring the chaos of the situation.

Freja's eyes locked onto him, she nodded barely noticeably and pulled the duvet closer around her, a childish reflex that stirred his heart with a bittersweet pulse. She often knew what she wanted, a kind of steadfastness, but here, hidden under layers of cotton and warmth, she allowed herself to be vulnerable - a rarity that Storm knew how to appreciate.

He took a step towards the door, each movement measured and cautious, as if he was afraid of breaking the fragile atmosphere in the room. He took a deep breath and prepared to face the world outside, aware that Freja's hiding place was as much in his heart as it was in his bed.

In a moment of demanding discretion, he gently pushed the bedroom door closed with one elbow, while his other arm struggled to fix his t-shirt in place.

He took a momentary pause, collected himself, and then firmly grasped the door handle of the front door. The door swung open, and light from the hallway flooded in like a wave threatening to reveal everything.

"UNCLE!" The unison shout from Lotte and Mille sounded like a fanfare announcing their immense enthusiasm. The two little humans threw themselves at Storm with an energy that could put any alarm clock to shame.

He felt small arms wrapping around his legs, and the energy from the two girls filled the air with anticipation. "Are you back from Paris? Already?!" he asked. Time had a tendency to fly by when least expected.

"Yes!" squealed Mille with a wide smile lighting up her face. She jumped up and down while hugging Uncle Storm so tightly that he almost lost his balance. "Mom says we're going to make dinner at our house. You have to come!"

"And we have so many pictures to show you!" Lotte continued, her hands gesturing as if she was painting all the memories in the air in front of her.

Storm let his gaze sweep over the children's excited faces and lifted them up, one by one, in a whirlwind of laughter before gently setting them back down on the ground. Lisa watched with a warm smile, her mother's pride shining through.

"Will you manage to get up in time for dinner then?" she asked, with a teasing tone in her voice. The light beams from the early morning sun caught the golden freckles on her skin and cast a glow around her.

"I... um, had a bit of trouble sleeping last night," he said, feeling how the words lingered in the air between them for a little too long.

"It's not like you to struggle with sleep." Lisa's eyes narrowed for a moment, as if trying to read more than just the surface of her brother's tired exterior. But then she shrugged, an invisible question mark remaining suspended.

"I'm coming," he assured, and a collective joy sprang up in the eyes of the three in front of him. "So great!" They seemed like sunbeams in the doorway, radiant and warm.