[He smiles. Is about to answer when Claude falls quiet in a way that he can't help but notice - looking... worn. A touch of frailty, perhaps. Considering how young he is, that's interesting as well. Most men in their twenties think themselves invincible. Most aren't, of course, but that's besides the point.
Are you really, Claude? [He glances sideways. Keeps his voice quiet, almost contemplative.] For some of us, drama's just a fact of life - doesn't mean we're looking for it.
no subject
Following his gaze out the window, the view wholly uninteresting (that's a man and a lady walking a dog - really now), he shifts closer until they're standing side by side, a few inches of air between their bodies still. Properly so. Sipping his wine again, he watches the street outside, notes what few points of interest he can glimpse. The store further down the street, a pharmacy - linked to one of their Dutch groups, as he remembers. A small café that he's been to once or twice with Anisette. And of course, the street itself. A small part of this city. His.]
Are you really, Claude? [He glances sideways. Keeps his voice quiet, almost contemplative.] For some of us, drama's just a fact of life - doesn't mean we're looking for it.