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Post by Adrian Veidt on Oct 21, 2009 11:05:20 GMT -5
There was something very touching in the look on Adrien's face that managed to act as a very cute protectant against Adrian lapsing into the standard encapsulation of his past that he'd developed for mass media consumption.
"...I have a few photographs, newspaper clippings. Things like that."
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Oct 21, 2009 11:08:11 GMT -5
Adrien leaned back slightly, raising his eyebrows appraisingly.
Only the prevailing attitude of tenderness made it clear that there was nothing in his response that was as casual as he was coming off.
"Yeah?"
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Oct 21, 2009 11:12:24 GMT -5
"I take it you would like to see them?"
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Oct 21, 2009 11:14:42 GMT -5
He nodded, shifting closer but slipping away just enough so that Adrian would be able to get up and get these things without needing to push him off him.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Oct 21, 2009 11:23:06 GMT -5
Adrian stood and went into his study for a moment, leaving Adrien alone. He returned a few minutes later with an armful of thick leather-bound portfolios and a few manila envelopes.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Oct 21, 2009 11:24:26 GMT -5
"Do you scrapbook?"
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Oct 21, 2009 11:28:06 GMT -5
"No," he answered as he sat down beside him. "This is simply a way of collecting various photographs where I can find them later."
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Oct 21, 2009 11:29:17 GMT -5
"Oh," said Adrien, as he moved into something that functioned as both a good position for viewing and a shamelessly tender embrace, with his entire body from the corduroy-clad legs down to the slightly-soiled tennis shoes he'd put on in place of the heels curving slightly towards Adrian's body as though he'd have liked to envelope him in love.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Oct 21, 2009 11:35:59 GMT -5
As Adrian opened the first portfolio, a small photo, tiny enough to fit in his palm, fell out and onto the floor. He leaned over long enough to pick it up and tuck it back inside without looking at it.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Oct 21, 2009 13:44:37 GMT -5
Adrien tried to peek, but failed.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Oct 21, 2009 17:08:19 GMT -5
"It's nothing," Adrian said automatically. "Just a picture of myself when I was seven or eight-"
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Oct 22, 2009 7:14:23 GMT -5
"Can I see that?"
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Oct 22, 2009 10:23:02 GMT -5
He passed it to him, unconcerned but looking like he didn't quite get what the appeal was to begin with.
Another Adrian stared out of the photo from roughly forty years in the past- small, blond, with the slightly resentful expression common to photos of children who have been abruptly scrubbed within an inch of their lives and told to stand still before a camera. There was nothing particularly surprising about it (unless the very idea of Adrian having ever been a small child was surprising), except for the already very calculating and adult expression in the boy's eyes. It appeared that he wasn't just looking at the camera, he was looking at the viewer, and probably judging them.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Oct 22, 2009 10:30:00 GMT -5
Adrien blinked, held it a few inches away from his eyes, and then smiled.
The predictable short string of incoherent cooing followed before he handed it back to him with a, "Goodness, you grew like a string bean."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Oct 22, 2009 10:34:12 GMT -5
"Yes, well... I'd forgotten I even had that one."
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