#aphopen
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Matthew stepped into the diner, shaking out his umbrella as he scanned the tables for who he was meeting. He was soaked, and grumbling to himself, “Oh I hate rain. It needs to get cold enough to snow.”
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“The only country that has the sense to hold an EU exit referendum doesn’t border mine. Color me surprised.”
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It was a lazy day. Summer’s end was approaching steadily on the horizon, just like how the sun was rising right around now. Usually, Feliciano would sleep in, but considering today was Sunday, he decided not to.
The entire week he had been working very hard, results of frustration, papercuts, sore-hands, and bruises, but it was worth it. Countless hours of meetings and doing paperwork, of the few hours he had of sleep. On Saturday and Sunday of this week did he have the day off. And since he had finished his paperwork so soon, he got the rest of the month off.
He was proud of himself, knowing that because of his hardwork, his brother wouldn’t have to do so much paperwork, and they would be fine without it for a month or two. It was a good thing.
Today, he wasn’t sure what to do. Perhaps he would go out into the town and figure it out there. But for now, he had rolled out of his bed, which was really a couch since he was too tired to make his way upstairs last night, and he made his way to the kitchen.
The wood floor was a bit cold, but not as cold as he was certain the tile would be in the bathroom. The sunlight was filtering in through the windows and white curtains, a beautiful, pink-tinted blue sky hanging outside, and he could practically smell the wonders of his homeland through the glass.
Rolling down his sleeves over his hands, he reached for the fridge, and much to his disappointment, found that there was very little to eat or drink. It was mostly bare, and he decided then that he would make sure a shopping trip was in order when he went into the town.
The fridge contained little, as stated, with a half-empty bottle of orange juice, a cola, cream cheese, and a very sweet jelly that was usually used for desserts. So he took out the cream cheese, jelly, and orange juice, turning to the counter to set them down for the time being.
In the cupboard, it was bare as well, all except for some cooking ingredients for pastries, as well as bread and rasins. In the end, he pulled out the cooking ingredients, and began preparing himself a Danish, one of which was a recipe given him by Austria, as they were the Austrian version.
When he was almost finished making them, (he had made a dozen, wanting to use up the jelly and cream cheese as much as he could before they went bad) he heard the doorbell. Instinctively, he looked at the clock. 5:45 am.
He groaned, not really wanting any visitors at this hour---and usually he wouldn’t mind. But he was in a horrible state, wearing nothing but a white buttoned shirt and boxers, hair a mess, teeth unbrushed...
The doorbell was rung again.
He sighed, making his way to the door, peeking in through the door hole. He recognized the figure out on his doorstep, and hurriedly made his way upstairs, changing into sweatpants as he made his way back to to the door. He would be lying if he said he didn’t trip at one point.
He unlocked the door, opening it up, forcing a light smile as he looked at his guest. “Ciao! What brings you here?”
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"You should have shown up last night! There was ice cream and you missed out on it!" he laughed at the other.
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"What do you mean you couldn't find my garden shears?" Her grip tightened around the shovel that was so precariously kept behind her back.
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“What are you doing in here?
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“You flatter me, but you’re gonna have to do more than just ask.”
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“I feel like I should paint my house when it’s not so hot outside. Should I keep it the same color, though, and just touch it up? Or should I paint it a new color?”
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“Alright who changed all of the songs on my playlist to play Nicki Minaj.” He’s not pleased at all.
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"Do I want to know what you intend to do with that?"
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[text: ANYBODY] EXPLAIN TO ME HOW TWITTER WORKS AND WHY MY NAME IS A "TRNEDING HASHTAG""
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Basch scrutinized his unexpected and frankly, unwanted guest. It wasn’t anything against them per se. There were nations he disliked, but none that he outright despised—not now anyway. He just far preferred solitude over company with Liechtenstein seemingly being the only exception.
It was also partly why he was so insistent on having others call him before coming to his house. It was easier to essentially tell someone to leave him alone when they hadn’t traveled great distances just to see him. Not even he was a big enough jerk to do that.
He half-suppressed a groan and then gave what had to be the most unenthusiastic greeting in the history of ever.
“Next time, notify me of your visit in advance. At any rate, what business do you have with me today?”
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“Why do people fear losing things that they don’t even have yet?”
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“Hey, I think... some kid smashed your window...” he averted his eyes to the broken pane. “You should probably get that fixed.”
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“Would you mind telling me what this word is? Oh and that one too?” he asked, pointing to a couple of words in his book.
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“So you want to pet Elke?”
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