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. )
...but that was a bit asinine, even for him. Probably.
He kept his precarious seat on the edge of the solidly built table (teak, carvings inlaid into the legs, and a small char mark hidden by his left thigh from one of their more adventurous nights in the Amsterdam apartment)and glanced around the kitchen, slowly being filled with the various bric-a-brac and bagatelle of the life back in Nederlandene, when he mockingly spoke a foreigner's Dutch to piss Wilm off for no reason other than the reaction he'd get.
It was a shallow sort of nostalgia but comfortable, and he felt the tense set of his shoulders relax slightly.
It felt safe here; safer than his own apartment which always seemed to be embroiled in some sort of secret and silent war against himself and his vices.
There was a peace here, a neutrality, a sense of this place being vaguely...Swiss in orientation (he smirked to himself, knowing Wilm would be outraged by the comparison).
The door opened again, and Søren decided that he did indeed feel comfortable enough to throw the shoe.
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