Erling Haaland (9)

The apartment in Manchester was quiet until Erling burst in. Without even taking off his jacket, he knelt down in front of you on the rug, resting his hands on your knees and looking at you with a huge pout.
—Please, love. I beg you. You have to come with me to Norway—he blurted out, looking at you with puppy-dog eyes.
You put your teacup down on the table and sighed.
—Erling, we already talked about this. We finally have some days off and I just want to stay in Manchester. Do nothing, watch TV series, and not set foot in an airport.
"But Manchester is gray!" he protested, dramatically resting his head on your legs. "In Norway, the sun doesn't set in summer, we can kayak through the fjords, and I'll cook you fresh salmon. Besides, my family wants to see you."
—I'm so lazy about packing again— you said, stroking her blonde hair—