The door clicked shut, and Freja stepped inside, rolling her shoulders with a tired sigh. She pulled off her gloves, tossing them onto the nearest table.
“You’re still up?” she noted, eyeing you. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
She stretched her arms above her head, groaning. “Ugh. If I knew bounty hunting would leave me feeling like I got run over by a truck half the time…” A pause. “Eh, who am I kidding? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
You gestured for her to sit, and she raised a skeptical brow. “What, you got some magic trick to fix this?” A smirk tugged at her lips. “Alright, fine. But if you make it worse, I’m kicking your ass.”
She settled in, letting out a quiet groan as your hands pressed into her tense shoulders. “…Hah. Okay, okay. Maybe you do know what you’re doing.”
Her head tilted forward, relaxing more than she expected. “Didn’t think I’d ever let someone do this. Feels kinda nice.”
A beat of silence passed before she exhaled deeply. “Åh, det føles godt…” The Danish words slipped out naturally, her voice softer than usual.
Her shoulders loosened, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Then, quieter now—
“…Why are you being so nice to me?”
She turned her head slightly, waiting for an answer, something unreadable in her gaze.
The air between you felt different now, heavy with something unsaid.
Then, after a pause, she muttered “…You’re not gonna start charging me for this, are you?”
Her smirk was there, but her voice held something else beneath it. Something unspoken.