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Post by Adrian Veidt on May 29, 2010 5:09:48 GMT -5
Adrian fell silent again and pulled Adrien a bit closer.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on May 29, 2010 5:15:13 GMT -5
Adrien got choked up, eyes unfocusing. "He, he, he took me out to his vacation home in the south of France... and I was staying upstairs with him when one night I was woken up. It was with him arguing with a man, and the man was scared - well, you've never argued with Marchetti - but then I heard a woman start screaming, and the man was shouting, 'No, no,' and then there was a - a - there was a gunshot and there was... gurgling... and then the man was crying, kind of quietly, in the nighttime... while I was upstairs, on the top floor of the vacation house...
"And when Roger got up there again, he was kind of smiling and he took off his shirt which had blood on it, and he pulled me closer to him. But I didn't want to, I said I didn't want to - he was so upset, he - " Adrien broke off startlingly abruptly. "He didn't take me back to the vacation house."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on May 29, 2010 5:18:04 GMT -5
Adrian just sort of stared into space after that.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on May 29, 2010 5:32:26 GMT -5
"After that it all went to hell," bemoaned Adrien. "He was... he was so hard to please, and got angry about all kinds of things... he'd tell me to stop calling him Roger and I would. But then I'd call him Marchetti and he'd backhand me because I was being distant, mocking him. Then I'd call him Roger and he'd say I didn't have any business calling him that. Sometimes he'd pull out his gun and point it at me, or at him, and I'd spend an hour trying to calm him down. He got me to sleep with guys he knew he was trying to make deals with. And he drank always... then he'd get high to come out of the drinking, then he'd drink to get down from the high...
"I, I did try to leave him, once. He chased me down like a kid and laughed about it, thought I'd been drunk and taken the wrong bus. Then later on I tried it again, and he chased me down like a dog and took me home and beat me. Lombardi and some of the guys thought he was being a little too hard after a while though and pulled me away and locked me in the closet. He beat at the door until he passed out. When I came out he ignored it. But the thing is, when you have bruises from the last fight it just reminds him of it. Sometimes he gets mad at you for it all over again...
"He wasn't always around. He usually went off every so often - like I said, he didn't take me to the vacation house anymore, or other places like that, you know, not if he could help it, he couldn't always. Well once when he was on a business trip, like you know, the ones you go on, Lombardi and Dillon stopped by. For. For tea."
He stopped, pausing for a very long time, before he went on. "They told me they had to look at some accounts. I was... well, it was kind of obvious what was on. But I let them... and I said I didn't want to take any part of it. But they were so different from most people. Marchetti's like you, he didn't ask me things or anything like that - but they, they were so nice. They talked to me. And then..."
He drew in a long, heavy breath. "They took me to the bed and they, they fucked me, you know, so that I wouldn't tell Roge about them being there. But then later, you know what?" His voice had an edge of hysteria in it. "They told him anyway. He was so mad... I swear everyone must have heard him - "
The way Adrien's hands went to his ears was mildly alarming, but he got control of himself in the next moment.
"But not long after that things started getting a little better - we made love more often and he was more agreeable, you know. Like the old days. And then one day he asked me to go on a run with him, a delivery, you know. I never had and I agreed, I thought maybe things would get better still. Then in the hotel room one night, he hit me in the temple and I passed out. When I woke up, he was gone - the coke was gone, and my wallet was gone, too. I keep some money in my shoe, did you know that? The left one. So I could pay for the hotel room and the bloodstained sheets. But I didn't have the money left to ride to Paris, so I hitchhiked and ended up back with Divine - only Darling was gone then. She'd gotten with Seck."
He paused, more thoughtfully. The story'd become easier to tell. "Two weeks later, the police got him, but they didn't get Lombardi or Dillon, so...." There was another pause. "I had it easy, you know. He was with a chick before me. She left him for a guy, and he shot them both."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on May 29, 2010 5:37:41 GMT -5
On the one hand, he was satisfied to know that he was far better than Roger Marchetti, at least for now. On the other...
"My God, Adrien," he said softly.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on May 29, 2010 5:38:05 GMT -5
He tilted his head and looked at him.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on May 29, 2010 5:42:37 GMT -5
"I will never allow anyone to hurt you like that again. Do you understand?"
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Post by Adrien Baillon on May 29, 2010 5:43:34 GMT -5
He smiled a little, one solitary tear sliding down his cheek unnoticed by him. "You're already so much better. You tell me you love me, and you don't hit me."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on May 29, 2010 5:48:37 GMT -5
"I nearly did," he said darkly.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on May 29, 2010 5:49:38 GMT -5
Adrien's eyes grew solemn and he huddled closer. "You love me," he whispered. "That's something nobody else has done, ever."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on May 29, 2010 5:53:51 GMT -5
"And I do. Very much."
He idly pet the nape of Adrien's neck as he simultaneously bent to kiss him.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on May 29, 2010 5:55:24 GMT -5
Adrien kissed him back, but then turned away.
"I'm exhausted," he said softly. "I just want to sleep and not think anymore... if that's okay."
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Post by Adrian Veidt on May 29, 2010 5:57:12 GMT -5
"I understand."
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Post by Adrien Baillon on May 29, 2010 6:03:05 GMT -5
He snuggled up with him. "Tomorrow... I'll make you breakfast!" he said. For the first time, although Adrien was oblivious to it, the cheer was quite obviously layered over exhaustion and his battling hysteria, and since he'd rather not break down into unintelligible sobbing, the cheer was the next best thing.
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Post by Adrian Veidt on May 29, 2010 6:03:57 GMT -5
"No," said Adrian.
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