*Astrid*
I step out of the bathroom, Pjuske trotting loyally at my heels, and the sight that greets me sends a shockwave through my body. My kitchen, the place where I have brewed countless cups of coffee, is in shambles, and the living room doesn't fare much better. It's a battlefield of debris, but thankfully, not a raging inferno.
Quickly, I snatch the fire extinguisher from the cabinet, a practiced ease in my movements. Pjuske watches, his head c****d to the side, as I douse the last of the flames licking at my memories. "Looks like it's mostly cosmetic," I murmur, more to myself than to Pjuske. The walls stand firm, a testament to Danish engineering.
But the brief respite shatters as Zac's car, as if conjured by the chaos, comes barreling through what's left of the wall. My mouth f
