Mika's hands stopped moving.
He slowly looked up from her belly, his expression shifting from playful to cautious in an instant.
Astrid's smirk widened. A competitive, almost predatory look crossed her face.
"I know you love both of them."
She continued, her voice taking on a teasing edge.
"Anya herself has boasted to me many times about how you can't keep your hands off her hair. How you were so enthusiastic one time that you even tried creating braids with it."
She tilted her head, watching him carefully.
"So tell me, Mika. Which one do you prefer more? Mine or hers?"
Mika stared at her for a long moment.
Then he shrugged.
"I really can't answer that question, Astrid."
Her smirk faltered slightly.
"What do you mean you can't answer?"
"I mean exactly what I said." He met her gaze steadily. "Not only would I be choosing a side if I gave a proper answer, but you or Anya would definitely start boasting about it and start fighting."
"And that's not something I want."
