GoKawiilThe decor is pastel green and pinks. Families sit by the windows, making the most of the winter sun. The children are sticky-fingered and smeared with ice cream.
It’s not where I expected Sam Morten, survivor of the disastrous battle for the Thorssen Highlands and decorated war hero, to suggest when he agreed to an interview.
“Eli chose it,” he tells me. “They like ice cream.”
Sam doesn’t look like an action hero. Or like the pictures that leaked after his rescue, gaunt and a little feral. Instead, he looks like the fathers by the window, quietly tired, his tousled hair dark with a scattering of grey at the temples.
He looks ordinary. Not like two separate entities sharing the same body, although he’s currently mired in a lengthy court battle for him and Eli to be granted this legal status.
A waitress arrives before Eli is introduced, bringing a black coffee for Sam, who has already ordered. She asks if I want anything and I ask if they have affogato, although, with a menu full of sundaes and loaded waffles, it doesn’t seem like that kind of place. She gives me a blank look and a regretful negative.
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Morten looks up. There’s only a slight shift in tone and posture but when he eagerly suggests ordering two scoops of vanilla and an espresso, I’m certain it’s Eli speaking.
I thank Eli by name and receive a sunny smile in response. Where Sam’s is wry and guarded, Eli’s smile is open and childlike.
“Most people can’t tell us apart.”
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