Finn’s POV:

This is basically how we live up until the day before we leave for Sweden to see Eric’s parents. That day, we were anything but comfortable. 

The second my alarm goes off, I’m hit with a wave of dread. Can’t wait to catch a flight in the early hours of the morning to go see people I’ve only heard bad things about. 

I hoist myself out of bed with much more effort than is normally required. I double-check all my bags and head to the main room of the dorm, where Eric is apparently waiting. He’s sitting at the table with his hands in between his knees, one leg jittering while he stares at the wall intently. 

I drag my bags to the door and walk over to him.

“Sleep well?” I ask, knowing the answer is no. At some point last night, Eric got up to ‘sleep’ in his own bed, since he didn’t want to keep me up.

Eric looks at me, but doesn’t answer. The bags under his eyes do.

I extend a hand to him, which he takes after a moment and I pull him up to stand. “Ready to get this show on the road?” I ask.

“You sound like a middle-aged father.” Eric mumbles to me, still holding onto my hand.

“Does that make you my wife? Where are the kids, honey? Don’t tell me you haven’t woken them up yet.” I frown playfully at him.

Eric musters a smile. “Sweetie, don’t tell me you didn’t wake them up. I thought you were going to.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to leave them here.” I pull him toward the door. “Do you have all your stuff?”

“Everything except the kids.”

“Perfect.”

  The drive to the airport is tense. Even though he was joking with me only minutes ago, he seems to be completely on edge. I glance over at him for a moment before returning my eyes to the road. 

“Eric, are you alright?” I ask, taking one hand off of the wheel and placing it on one of his.

Eric doesn’t answer, but he laces his fingers through mine. His hands are shaking.

“What exactly are you afraid of?” I ask him, glancing at him momentarily again.

He takes a deep breath before answering. “My parents have always had high expectations. Well- I wouldn’t say ‘always’. They used to have ‘normal’ expectations-” He does air quotes with his free hand. “Until I showed more potential and did more and more impressive things. That just prompted them to try and teach me everything and send me to all the camps, making sure I would be the best child possible.” He laughs drily. “And that’s… well… how to make yourself a burn-out kid.”

I squeeze his hand. “That sounds awful. What are you worried they’ll do this time in particular?”

“I’m worried they’ll do that to you!” Eric bursts out. “I’m worried they’ll overanalyze you and think you’re a bad influence or something and make me switch dorms… or something!” He sighs huffily.

I’m honestly a little apprehensive. “Can they do that?” 

“I don’t know, probably!”

“Well, all we can do is hope for the best. I’ll try my best to impress them for you, and hopefully we can come home and everything will be the same as always.”

Upon arriving at Eric’s parents’ house, I suddenly understood what kind of family would treat their child like they treated Eric. 

This kind, apparently.

The door to their home swings open, revealing two people with some of Eric’s features. But somehow, they give off a different vibe entirely. Eric radiates anxiety and nervousness (to anyone else’s eyes, anyway), and these people just radiated power. It dripped from their expressions, their clothes, their decorations- everything. 

I set down my bags and reached out a hand for one of them to shake. Eric’s father takes it first. 

“My name is Finn Ember,” I tell them. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”

Eric’s father looks me up and down. “The pleasure is all ours,” he says flatly. “My name is Christopher Uriah. Feel free to call me Mr. Uriah.”

Now it’s Eric’s mother’s turn to shake my hand. 

“My name is Angelina Uriah.” She doesn’t tell me to call her Mrs. Uriah, but I assume I should anyway. Her voice is thick with false sweetness.

Everything about this place makes me wish I was back at the dorms. As the door swings farther open, the rest of the house foyer is revealed. There are no decorations- save for the few plants hanging from the ceiling or sitting on shelves. As we enter the house, I notice Eric’s expression changing. His face seems to fall into a resigned expression. It looks practiced somehow. I wish now more than ever that I could hold his hand.