That Nostalgic Feeling (Benelux Siblings)

[Niklaas de Vries]

The sudden rain had chased him in here, the warmth and hospitality of the servers made him stay. Stubborn asshole that he was, Niklaas had ignored the forecast this morning about there being a high chance of a storm, and dared to ride his bike to work anyway. Looking like a drowned ray was his price to pay for his stupidity, it seemed. He had all bust burst into the restaurant, holding his saxophone case of his chest like it would blow away in the gale outside, completely soaked to the bone and trying to brush his water-logged bangs out of his face. Despite some people staring at him like he was mad (which he probably was, going out in such a storm), he was quickly escorted to a table and offered some hot chocolate and a towel. The former probably wouldn't be free, as hardly anything was, but it was better than sitting in a booth, shivering, and getting water all over the nice fake leather upholstery.

Pulling out his phone, Niklaas dried it off and punched in his boss' number, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for the other man to pick up. After five or six rings, all he got was a cheerful recording telling him to please leave a message at the tone.

“Hey, it's Niklaas. I might be late coming in, depending on how long this storm lasts,” the Dutchman glared out the most available window, like that would somehow make the rain stop. “If I'm not there when you need me, just push our next act up a time slot or two. Hell, have an open mic night if you want, people love singing when they're pissed. Alright, catch you later.”

Hanging up and setting the phone aside, Niklaas off offhandedly tried to get his hair to cooperate with him. Maybe it was time he got a hair cut, since his bangs were downright obstructive at the length they were. At the moment, however, where he was seemed to be more important. He rode through Dalston, past the University of Westminster, so that would put him somewhere near Hoxton and Shoreditch.. .right? Niklaas groaned internally and placed a hand over his eyes. He should know the fucking route he took to get to work by now! Granted he relied more on landmarks than street signs and overly complicated directions, but stil. This was pathetic. “Well, stressing about it now won't help.” He said to himself as he took his hand away, instead choosing to warm his hands on the ceramic mug that had been placed in front of him. Plenty of people got lost in storms all the time, he just happened to be one of those unlucky son of a bitches today. Nodding to himself he took a sip of the steaming liquid in his cup, thankful that it didn't burn his tongue as it went down.

ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN

[Deleted]

The woman woke up late and scrambled around to get dressed and ready for another day of fun and playing with the children! She had made sure her diaper bag (though not used for such) was filled with everything she’d need for the day. Baby powder? Check. Towels? Check. Blankets? Check, First Aid Kit? Check. Snacks? Check. Drinks? Check. Wallet? Check. Cell? Check. Keys? Check. Baby Wipes? Check, Hand sanitizer? Check. Brush? Check. Schedule book? Check. Pen? Check. Along with the other items of necessity. Everything was accounted for. So she left her apartment and locked the door behind her. Having not seen the weather forecast, she left without an umbrella. Upon coming outside, she couldn’t deny it was storming… But she couldn’t afford to be any later and there probably weren’t any taxis running in this storm. So, she set out on her bike. She eventually had to come to a stop and race for cover in a café, coming in looking like a drowned kitty-cat and having a sneeze attack that she covered with her sleeve. *She dug a towel out of the, thankfully, waterproof bag and started drying herself off head first. She ordered a hot cocoa and looked around for a spot to sit. Spying a familiar male she slinked over to flop down next to him, curling her hands around the much larger ones holding the cocoa mug in an attempt to steal a little bit of the heat. She shivered like a kitten out of a cold bath in winter and snuggled up against the man’s side -despite the fact he was obviously wet and without any body heat to steal either, without a single word. He was broer. She didn’t have to explain herself to him. He was obligated to shut up and take it even if he wasn’t the snuggle bug she was. She let out another barrage of squeaky sneezes before her cocoa came along -and the waitress had been a sweetie and sat a couple tissues in front of her with the cocoa. . Only then did she take her ice cold hands off his to dab at her nose with a tissue before wrapping her hands around her own mug desperately. A text she sent before she left the house finally responded to. She checked her phone…. Daycare had been canceled today because the parents didn’t want to send their kids in this storm. The woman’s forehead smacked against the edge of the table with a small groaning whine. She could have stayed snug as a bug in bed today.

[Niklaas de Vries]

Niklaas’ eyebrow quirked in irritation at the unknown, uninvited, intrusion on his personal space. Small, delicate hands wrapped around his in an attempt to steal what little warmth they could provide, and a small body tucked itself against his to try and achieve the same goal. The nerve of some people. He cleared his throat and glanced down at the intruder,


“Can I help-” The words died down his tongue once the intruder turned her head to look back at him. The same golden blonde hair, slightly chubby cheeks, and innocent emerald green eyes stared back at him. This same face had been distraught and stained with tears a decade ago, and this same woman had stubbornly clung to his sleeve as she begged Niklaas to come with her, Elise, and their mother.

She had blossomed, Niklaas concluded. Time had matured her, while it had hardened him, although she probably didn’t have six years of chain smoking under her belt. And how like her, it was, to so easily slip back into his presence like they had never been seperated in the first place. One would think they had talked just yesterday, rather than several years ago. Maybe it was because Marianne didn’t think too much about the small, minute little details like Niklaas did. Broer was broer, and acting awkward around him because she hadn’t seen him in so long was silly. In that sense, the Dutchman envied her way of thinking. Growing up the way he did, everything had to be planned and thought out to the smallest detail. Everything had to be picture perfect or else the entire delivery could go to hell.

At those tiny, delicate little sneezes Niklaas almost offered his coat and scarf. He would have, if they weren’t still damp and cold, and if Marianne hadn’t grown out of her physical frailness, the heavy weight on her shoulders would probably just be more a burden than a help. But she would accept it with a smile regardless. She retracted her hands when her own steaming mug of coco was delievered to her, and after checking her phone briefly she bonked her head on the edge of the table with an exasperated whine of a groan. Niklaas blinked in confusion, “something wrong?”

ELECTRIC OF GS AND BTN