TealFridge

They smoked, occasionally. Never anything formal, at the back of whatever building had been decided for the World Meeting. Only a few would gather at the back, some for a quick puff, others for a more stress-reducing break. Switzerland didn’t smoke. He muttered this under his breath when he would join them, leaning against the building, watching the smoke trails wistfully. Romano would sit on the curb, head turned to watch Switzerland breathe in the second hand smoke. It was cold this time of year in England. The smokers huddled around the door of the office building, bumming smokes off of one another and chatting in whatever language was ...