six-sentence snowy Sunday
Nov. 10th, 2019 07:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chanter1944From 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.
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Date: 2019-11-12 10:07 pm (UTC)Can you point me where to start so when this paragraph is finished, I'll be ready?
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Date: 2019-11-14 02:13 am (UTC)There have only been one or two other snippets of this fic posted previously, also on six-sentence Sundays. I haven't done more than that in public yet, as this is veeeeery much still a work in progress. I tend to call this the big Hetalia thingie. :)