Liberty Luck Strikes Again
Who: The Dutchman (Wilm) and the Dane (Søren)
When: Friday, September 10th, 8:22 a.m.
Where: Wilm’s Apartment
What: Wilm didn’t think he knew anybody in Liberty besides his sisters. Søren lets him know differently.
( Morning, sunspot. Open the door, special delivery. )
When: Friday, September 10th, 8:22 a.m.
Where: Wilm’s Apartment
What: Wilm didn’t think he knew anybody in Liberty besides his sisters. Søren lets him know differently.
( Morning, sunspot. Open the door, special delivery. )
He turned and headed towards the kitchen.
"I’m making coffee, you want? Also got beer."
He paused for a second on the way to the coffee maker to open his fridge, checking to see what brand he’d picked up when he’d made his run to the supermarket. And then stopped, door swinging closed as he turned to stare at the Dane in his living room.
"Wait, Sindre? That Sindre?"
In the years that he had known Søren, Wilm had figured out that there were few things predictable about the Dane. Mostly, that you could always count on him to do the thing you never thought of. But another was that if you caught him in just the right mood, and sometimes even then only after he’d had enough to drink or the right amount of weed, he’d start talking about certain things from before he came to Amsterdam.
Like that time in high school in America. With the imposing Swede who was also apparently a nice guy once you got to know him. And Sindre, who was both a deadpan snarker and the glue that held the other two together.
Wilm was under the impression Søren might have had a bit of a crush on the Norwegian. Not that he’d ever said that out loud to Søren’s face.
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