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six-sentence snowy Sunday
Nov. 10th, 2019 07:53 pmFrom that Hetalia thingie. Luciano is Brasil, Anne is Rhode Island.
"Bom dia to you, too," the darker man replies, but something's weighing down the twinkle in his eyes. "Where did you even learn that one?" He's abandoned the doorway, managed to companionably shoulder bump the still-seated Timor-Leste on his way past, carefully avoided jostling Angola, and fetched up behind Rhode Island's chair, all in the space of seconds. He does not, thanks much, Massachusetts, flick her ear once he's there. Anne's reminded again of why she really does love Luciano.
"Bom dia to you, too," the darker man replies, but something's weighing down the twinkle in his eyes. "Where did you even learn that one?" He's abandoned the doorway, managed to companionably shoulder bump the still-seated Timor-Leste on his way past, carefully avoided jostling Angola, and fetched up behind Rhode Island's chair, all in the space of seconds. He does not, thanks much, Massachusetts, flick her ear once he's there. Anne's reminded again of why she really does love Luciano.
