Sov Gott

A Bit of Luck

Norway shifted uncomfortably in his chair, looking down at his hands in a pathetic form of distraction. The police had tracked the phone call he had received from Denmark, but it was impossible to know where the call had come from with both the limited technology their station possessed and the fact that Denmark had used a burner cell phone. Since then Norway and Iceland were told that they had to stay at the police station at all times and would have more guards assigned to them, and the constant presences were starting to get to their heads. Norway hadn't been outside by himself in weeks, and he was tired of constantly being surrounded. It was driving Iceland insane as well, and they had already snuck away and gone on walks together around the building, just for some extra privacy.

However, as Norway sat on a bench in the headquarter break-room, he couldn't help but feel the intense boredom that crawled up his throat and his stomach and his limbs, making him anxious for something to happen. At this point, he didn't care if it was good or bad. He just wanted it to be over. Norway's dark blue eyes ran across the walls and landed on the square clock that hung next to the door.

12:36 it read mockingly, ticking by every uneventful second by uneventful second. Leaning back, the Norwegian rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, the fabric of his coat tugging against his elbow as he did so. As he noticed the restraining capability of the coat he took it off, revealing the lightweight sweater he had been wearing underneath. The sweater was patterned but dull in color. A few diamonds of red went around the torso as an accent, and he wore plain jeans as pants.

There were paintings around the dimly lit room, each illustrating a different time, place and idea. He had already found his favorite of the mix, an impressionist version of a river that had cut a path through a forest somewhere. A cabin was shown on one side of the river, but the image of two children was depicted on the opposite shore, watching as the sky above them transitioned from evening to dusk, casting the scene into various shades of lilac, red and orange.

The door to the waiting room Norway had been trapped in for the past four hours and —he checked the clock again just to make sure his calculations were correct— twenty-one minutes opened up suddenly. He turned around and saw Jeff approaching him, Iceland and Jones following shortly behind. Jeff was certainly an approachable person, now that Norway thought about it. Jeff's face rested in a friendly expression, his mouth shaped with a slight upward curl to the corners of his mouth that made him appear to be calm at all times. He had curly, dark brown hair that fell into a neatly combed professional hairstyle, but it curled a bit and thus didn't lay flat across the head, making his face intriguing and alluring. He was slightly chubby compared to an average citizen and shorter than Norway, yet Jeff's gait more relaxed and calm than the Norwegian's. Jeff wore a sweater that looked comfortable, but also was patterned in a stylish way, making it look very formal and nice on him. His skin was a caramel color, and his eyes seemed to stick out abruptly through his face, seeing that they were a very light blue.

Jones, on the contrasting hand, looked like quite the rough, tough, mysterious type, even though his personality didn't go along with the concept. Jones had a sharp and angular face, with dark green eyes that scanned the room before shutting the door behind him. He wore a dress jacket over a white button-up shirt with a black tie around his neck and a brown belt fastened around the waist of his beige pants. His hair fell into a natural side part, a few strands daring to stick out and flick away from Jones' head in a nonconforming way, making parts of his black hair appear spiky, especially at the ends. He had some scruff on his chin, cheeks and right above his mouth, accentuating his rough appearance further. His face rested in a frown, almost as if he were always in concentration and thinking over something important. However, this tough shell that he wore was not his true self, and all of his toughness melted away once he began to laugh at a joke or smile in a greeting to Norway, someone who Jeff and Jones now considered a friend. Once he smiled he became the friendliest looking person alive, second only to Jeff.