@osterreich || stolen sweater
Ludwig, sitting behind his desk with his fingers crossed in front of his mouth, merely watches as Roderich makes himself comfortable on the sofa, sprawled out and looking a little worse for wear in the German’s oversized burgundy sweater. “Too many questions,” He mused aloud, resting his scruffy chin atop his interlocked fingers. The Austrian certainly looked disgruntled, and more so than normal. A feat.
Generalinspekteur. The blonde has to stop himself from snorting at the tone Roderich was using with his job title. “Clearly if you were at risk of interrupting me,” Leaning back in his seat, Ludwig drops his hands to the desktop, pen fitting between his fingers. “You would not have been able to get in here.”
Roderich continues on, though, and Ludwig just sits there and lets the Austrian rant and rave dramatically on the sofa. He was doing his very best not to laugh, instead busying himself with signing off on the paperwork sitting before him. “Couple things,” Ludwig starts, cocking his head to the side as he files away some documents. “If you don’t want Sig to steal your jacket, don’t leave it on the loveseat. You went into my dresser specifically to find that sweater. Breakfast food is good at any point in the day and I am a non-discriminant breakfast lover. This building has not moved since it’s construction, and,” Ludwig finally looks up, a small smile on his face.
“The secretary is in fact new. You could have just called me. You know that.”