Berwald was enjoying a relaxing afternoon, reading the newspaper and sipping coffee. Well, when he said 'Relaxing', he was really just trying to relax. The storm the other night had shaken him up quite a bit, though he would never admit it, and he couldn't stop the nagging sensation that something wasn't right. Which was ridiculous, of course. The building was still in tact, Peter was safe, and so was he, so he had reason to believe that everyone else was safe and sound. He rustled the paper and glanced at Peter's room. He might be scared after the storm; after all, he still was a kid, and Berwald should probably check up on him (which would make it his sixth check-up that day), but as he stood up to head to Peter's room (Labelled appropriately with the name 'Peter' on the door, a little wooden plaque which Berwald had made in celebration of having Peter move in), but before he could get two strides in, the door opened itself, and just the boy Berwald was hoping to see popped out.
Berwald stopped his walk and his lips quirked up in a slight smile. "Good aft'rnoon, Peter. Was j'st about t' check up on y'," He commented offhandedly.