er mag mich nicht

lutzbeilschmidt

“I dunno Gilbird.. I don’t think I should.” Gilbert mumbled as he shoved his gloved hands into his pockets. He stood very nearby his brothers home, but not within line of sight. There was a lot on his mind, now that he’d returned from being away for so long.

the canary twittered, nudging his head a little as he sat on his shoulder, as if encouraging him.

“…Was, wenn er mich nicht mag? Italien ist so naiv, glaube ich nicht, dass er zu verstehen .. und mein Bruder, wird er in der Nähe ließ ihn? Er kann manchmal schützend sein.”

Adjusting the cap on his head and lightly thumbing over the cross on his neck with the other hand, Gilbert stepped forward and opened the door to the German home, stepping inside and looking around. Had anything changed..