He Was About To Get A Storm

Morana's Point of View

The moment I stepped into the house, a familiar warmth washed over me. 

It was quiet, peaceful, a sharp contrast to the chaos I had just walked away from.

And there he was, my grandfather sitting in his favorite armchair, dressed in his usual dark robe, a cup of tea in one hand and his reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. His presence alone had a way of making everything feel less overwhelming.

He looked up the moment I entered, his piercing gray eyes scanning me carefully.

Then, he smiled. 

"There's my troublemaker."

I grinned, dropping my bags and walking straight into his warm embrace. "Missed me that much?"

He chuckled, patting my back. "You were only gone for a few hours, Morana."

I pulled back, shrugging. "Still counts."

I sat across from him as he took a slow sip of his tea, his eyes never leaving mine.