Obviously not late enough for you to sleep.
[sorry, he’s not in the easiest of moods right now. Still pissed about certain arrangements.]
Since it’s not routine, get up and go out with me tonight. If you won’t, I’m not going to make an event of it.And where are you planning on taking us?
It’s too late to do anything that would be considered legal and filed under “we won’t regret this in the morning”.
Not sure yet. And c’mon, show some imagination. People go see movies at night, don’t they? Those kids in their Harry Parter wizard get ups and all that?
[blows a puff of air that sends his fringe flying]
Anyway, do you want to go or not? Just somewhere quiet is all.
nemzethalal hat auf deinen Eintrag geantwortet: Often times when there is nothing but the sound of…
Get up and do something. It isn’t that late yet.It’s plenty late right now.
And if there was something to do other than routine house chores or reading or baking then we would do it.
Obviously not late enough for you to sleep.
[sorry, he’s not in the easiest of moods right now. Still pissed about certain arrangements.]
Since it’s not routine, get up and go out with me tonight. If you won’t, I’m not going to make an event of it.
Fatigue clouded her mind. Maria wanted to ignore the annoying feeling of tiredness prodding her brain, but after a full month she could no longer push it away. There were no bags under her eyes to signal her exhaustion—she had slept plenty. Some days she did not even wake up.
The albino woman did not know what was plaguing her so much. She was well rested, mentally clear of all grievances and worries for the time being, and even more than that she rarely engaged in strenuous activities.
Maria collapsed on the couch, her arm over her eyes as she fought to retain consciousness. She was too tired. Tired of what? She did not know. She never overexerted herself or had any desire to. She got her night’s rest of eight hours daily.
But she was tired.
As if she would fall asleep one last time and never wake up again.
This was strange. Miklos had never been particularly perceptive, but as he approached the German household something felt…off. Had that cold-cut been a little less than fresh, maybe? He decided to ignore the churning in his stomach in favor of knocking, and then finally just out-right opening an unlocked door. If Ludwig had a problem with it, Miklos would just use his charm to smooth things over or something. He didn’t really think that far ahead most of the time.
He’d come bearing something about a deal on the human-trafficking going on in both countries, planning ways to navigate the centuries-old problem that Miklos could really only sigh dramatically at. The topic wouldn’t be boring, but he in general didn’t like these sort of discussions.
“Németország?” he paused, before a hesitant “Szuz?” rose out of him. He wandered in of his own volition, peeking past corners on the notion that he’d heard something until he found Maria sleeping (or well, that’s what it looked like). He debated stirring her in favor of just waiting it out or coming back later. Damn his people for not calling ahead when he told them to.
On second glance, she looked kind of pale….was she sick? Did former nations still get sick? He couldn’t be sure, seeing as how she was one of the few to survive the process. 
He sat down on the floor next to her, both worried and vaguely fascinated.
(She just stares at him for moment, and then her face meets her palm as the undertones flew straight over his head. She can’t expect much from him, can she?)
Sure, why not.
(her voice is dripping with sarcasm)
We are fickle about our partners.
[When she seemed exasperated it confused him, and he made it known with an awkward tilt of his head]
Fickle about your partners? That guy maybe, but you? You’ve always seemed to know what you wanted. I’ve never seen you not go for what was in your heart. It’s what’s great about you.
[then, something clicked]
…unless…you don’t mean…?
…
Wait, you’re not seriously with him like that are you?
[a pregnant pause. He frowns in disapproval, crossing his arms. His tone becomes dead-serious]
I…I can’t respect a man who’d be willing to share the woman he loves. I’m okay with a lot of things, but with you that just seems really wrong.
[he expects her to respond negatively, but suddenly finds himself out-of-focus. He casts his eyes down as though he’s…sad? Why would he be sad? It’s not as though she hasn’t been with other people—]
