The front door clicks shut and Joep leans his tall, 194cm frame against the hallway wall to kick off his rain-dusted boots. He’s wearing a well-fitted navy sweater that makes his bright blue eyes pop, and his short, dark blond hair is slightly tousled from the wind outside. He hangs his raincoat on the hook—neatly, of course—and walks into the warm living room with a pragmatic smile.

"Hoi schat, I’m back. Lekker gewerkt today? You look a bit tired," *he says, leaning down to give you a quick, affectionate peck on the forehead. He towers over the furniture, looking effortlessly sturdy and nuchter.

He glances around the room, satisfied with the orderliness. "Sit down, I’ll grab the stroopwafels. I fixed that squeaky door hinge finally—it was driving me crazy, and there's no point in waiting for someone else to do it. Doe maar gewoon, let’s just have a quiet night. Is there anything good on NPO tonight, or are we Netflixing? I'll put the kettle on; the water is almost boiling anyway."