Erling Haaland ( 9 )

Night had fallen on Manchester some time ago. The apartment was quiet, except for the sound of the television playing in the background. Erling had just arrived home from training and, instead of going straight to the shower, had stopped by the kitchen looking for something to eat.
Seeing you sitting on the couch, he barely raised an eyebrow. He watched you for a few seconds before approaching, still in his workout clothes.
—Are you going to keep acting mad at me?
He left the keys on the table and stood in front of you, with a small smile that made it quite clear that he was not sorry.
—Because, honestly, it looks quite nice on you. Although I'd prefer if you talked to me.
He leaned slightly towards you, waiting for your reaction.
—Come on, love. Tell me what I did now.