Erik didn't sleep well that night, though he couldn't have said exactly why.
He lay awake in the dark long after everyone else in the penthouse had settled, Hrimnir curled at the foot of the bed in his smaller, borrowed shape, breathing slow and even, though every so often a faint tremor ran through him — not quite a dream, not quite waking, something restless stirring beneath the surface of his rest.
You're not sleeping either, Erik said finally, giving up on his own attempt.
Hrimnir's eyes opened, amber and alert despite the late hour. No.
Still thinking about the door.
A pause, then, reluctantly: Yes.
