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Post by Adrien Baillon on Nov 16, 2009 21:30:30 GMT -5
"But you'd...I'd... I'd be knocked out."
Even if this was perfectly reasonable, Adrien still came from a world where knocking people out was horrific and done for shady reasons.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Nov 16, 2009 21:34:05 GMT -5
"Ah, well, if you'd rather go on feeling like this-"
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Nov 16, 2009 21:38:03 GMT -5
"That last time anybody knocked me out," said Adrien seriously, no reproach in his voice, "it was Roger Marchetti in a hotel room, and the only reason I could pay for the bloodstains on the sheets was because I kept money in my shoe. He'd taken my wallet."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Nov 16, 2009 21:42:21 GMT -5
Adrian closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
"Adrien," he sighed. "Come here."
He held his arms open for Adrien to scoot up and snuggle into them.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Nov 16, 2009 21:44:17 GMT -5
He did it gingerly, sore, of course, but didn't appear distressed.
"Wanna see the scar? It's here," he said, pulling back his hair. He had to do it twice, as he had forgotten how short and straight the strands were. It was on his temple. "It's from his gold signet ring."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Nov 16, 2009 21:48:27 GMT -5
He'd seen it before, but never given it any thought.
"Adrien, you are..."
He sighed and held him close.
"You really are too good for this world."
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Nov 16, 2009 21:50:31 GMT -5
"Don't be ridiculous," said Adrien, rather shortly, voice still rough. "I was helping him transport coke at the time. He just didn't want to split the dough. It was the first time I'd gone on the run with him, so he'd never had to do it before."
He took a deep breath, as though he wanted to stay close, but then pulled back just enough to look him in the eye, arms still around him. "That was how we broke up, you know," he said, realizing he'd never told him so.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Nov 17, 2009 2:16:32 GMT -5
The by now familiar pain in Adrian's smile returned with full force.
"You have terrible taste in the people you choose to love, Adrien," he said with more sadness than scolding.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Nov 17, 2009 9:44:50 GMT -5
"Just Marchetti," said Adrien with a bright, though ill, smile, leaning in to be held again.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Nov 17, 2009 13:12:15 GMT -5
It was again all he could do to keep his mouth shut. The damned boy, making him vacillate like this!
This couldn't go on any further. Not when he was so close to-
And Adrien wasn't well. Last night had only proven it. It would be better if he didn't know. Safer. It would spare him even more pain.
"Adrien?" Adrian said softly, stroking the little cropped section at the base of Adrien's neck as he held him and rocked him gently. "Would you like some tea for your throat?"
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Nov 17, 2009 13:20:11 GMT -5
Held like this, he couldn't see Adrian's face, nor could Adrian see his. Therefore, it was something of an internal debate for the boy as he weighed staying in Adrian's arms and being pet like that against looking up at him and beaming.
After a moment, he looked up at him and beamed, nodding shyly.
"No one's ever..." His voice disappeared into nothing and he cleared his throat. "No one's ever treated me like you do, Adrian," he said, as though it were a confidence. He leaned in closer, tucking his head under Adrian's. "I... I really love you."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Nov 17, 2009 13:27:41 GMT -5
"I love you, Adrien," he said, even more softly. "I want you to know that above anything else, do you understand?"
He pulled back a little and took him by the shoulders, looking him dead in the eye.
"Do you understand?"
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Nov 17, 2009 13:34:50 GMT -5
A perfect stranger to the situation, not understand the words spoken between them or their relationship, would have looked at Adrien's face and thought he was going to cry, or maybe even frightened to the point of hushed quiet.
He felt like he was going to expire from love. There was a pain in his chest that kept expanding.
"But - I - Adrian - " His voice was meek and ragged from illness as it was, but... "Yes, but - I... I'm just..."
He pulled back suddenly, coughing. When he looked up at him again, his eyes were bright. "How can you?" he whispered.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on Nov 17, 2009 13:58:07 GMT -5
"I-"
His voice broke. To his utter horror, there were tears starting in the corners of his eyes.
"Wait here, I'll put the water on to boil."
He kissed Adrien's forehead and released him with an jerking gesture that came harder than he'd thought it would, and then hurried away from him.
Get ahold of yourself, his mind admonished him. You knew you'd have to from the first time you brought him here. Yes, said the other half of his mind, but I didn't know it would hurt.
He was so tired of the pain. It had been so neatly scarred over until the last few months- not just because of Adrien, but Micaela too. He was feeling, not thinking. It was too dangerous.
Adrian's hands trembled, the good alongside the bad, as he filled the teapot to and set it on the stove. His reflection stared haggardly back from its polished surface for a long moment, and his own stare was so accusing that after a moment he couldn't bear to look at it anymore.
He opened a cupboard, took out all of the glasses and unlatched the back panel. It opened onto another cupboard, filled with a few small bags and bottles. Most of them were drugs he'd never done but had accepted and pocketed from people who assumed he did in the old days, and while most of them were probably well past their expiration date, Adrian could somehow not shake the notion that even here in Paris he'd one day give in and do a few lines just to make all this torment go away for an hour or two.
But for now, the cocaine and the other drugs remained untouched. He instead pulled out a very small and unassuming-looking bottle of a clear liquid.
Tasteless. Painless. Adrien would simply drift off to sleep, perhaps while smiling, and not wake up again.
Adrian looked from the bottle to the short hallway that lead to the room where Adrien was waiting. If he had any decency, he'd go and at least hold him until the kettle shrieked, but he wasn't sure he could look at him.
He was certain he wouldn't be heard when he whispered, "God forgive me."
The water came to a boil. Adrian filled a teacup with it, added a teabag, and then squeezed in a few drops of the clear liquid before putting the bottle in the hidden sub-cupboard again and carrying the teacup to Adrien.
His expression was like a man going to the guillotine.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Nov 17, 2009 14:06:26 GMT -5
Adrien waited patiently for Adrian to return, but sank a bit after it became apparent that Adrian was not returning while the water boiled, even though it was taking minutes and minutes to do so. He didn't ask himself whether or not this meant Adrian really loved him, although it was uncomfortably obvious that if Adrian did he clearly didn't like indulging either one of them in the feeling. Never mind. Even feeling sick as he was, it was practically as though they had all the time in the world. He waited for Adrian to get back.
"I missed you!" was the first thing he exclaimed when Adrian returned, looking at him with suddenly self-conscious love, and then glancing down as though acknowledging, with a smile, that he was being silly. "Sorry," he said, when he'd glanced up again, scooting over generously to make room for Adrian again.
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