[ Marcel's left a few hours earlier, not too long before he wrote Claude and asked for his companionship. It's always at least somewhat inconvenient, whenever the underground acts up out of tune but such is the nature of it and that's that. In certain aspects, politics aren't much different - after all, the element of surprise is what keeps you on your toes, keeps it all fresh. Thus, Jean Louis has changed out of his formal work clothes and into a borderline-casual set of Armani Exchange, all black on grey, the long-sleeved t-shirt spiced up a fraction with splashes of cool, minty blue.
And here they are. The two of them. He watches Claude as the younger man sips wine, looking quite comfortable on the settee. Even in this apartment, usually a strong-hold against most outside forces, he's found a way to simply fit; having known the man for some time now, it's become apparent that it's just how his personality works. Imagine that. Raising an eyebrow, he sits down on the other end of the settee. ]
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And here they are. The two of them. He watches Claude as the younger man sips wine, looking quite comfortable on the settee. Even in this apartment, usually a strong-hold against most outside forces, he's found a way to simply fit; having known the man for some time now, it's become apparent that it's just how his personality works. Imagine that. Raising an eyebrow, he sits down on the other end of the settee. ]
Really. How so?