Vondt skal vondt fordrive

-shifts awkwardly- …Hey.

... You wanna come in? 

[The silence lingers in the room for a little while, before Lukas peers through the kitchen window. His eyes widen for a moment, before he strolls quickly to the door, adjusting his Marius sweater on the way. 

He opens the door after his hand lingers on the door handle for a second that feels like whole minutes.] 

Near and far and to and fro, I ran away and waited for this feeling to go. But as I fled it became apparent to me just how much this was meant to be. I’m in this for the long run, for better or for worse, stuck for all eternity with this awful, awful curse. And as difficult as it is to say I wouldn’t want it any other way.  ❤

While Lukas remains fairly confident that the note can't have been there for more than a few hours at most, the simple sheet of paper tugs at memories from several years back. 

The Norwegian's fingers trace the side of the note absent-mindedly as his eyes go over the words; not once, not twice, but over and over again. 

He knows where it's from, of course. Only one person has communicated with him personally in lyricism this century. Honestly, he's not certain whether it's a relief or not that Holger is contacting him again - their personal communication had gone rather dry, to say the least, the past... two years or so? Hell, the poetry had been a driving factor by the end of it. 

Now, it seems little has changed on Holger's end. 

Get in your bunad loser we’re going celebrating this Saturday.

--