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Post by Crowley on Jan 21, 2012 22:53:44 GMT -5
"I'll miss you too. This has been one of the nicest weeks I've had in a long time."
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Jan 21, 2012 22:55:38 GMT -5
He clenched his teeth, but it didn't work. He sniffled and more tears slid down his face.
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Post by Crowley on Jan 21, 2012 23:02:30 GMT -5
Crowley took a deep breath and went to comfort him, but then he thought that it might be better to just leave him. There was no use prolonging it, and he did have somewhere to be now. He walked slowly back to the bedroom, looking at Adrien only once more.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Jan 21, 2012 23:04:35 GMT -5
He had one more thing to say to him, though-
well. There wasn't much point in saying it. Would it really mean anything to Crowley, who'd seen civilizations come and go and certainly met more than enough dumb French kids to last the rest of eternity, if this one said 'Take care'? Probably not.
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Post by Crowley on Jan 21, 2012 23:14:03 GMT -5
Crowley paused at the door and then shut it softly before starting to change.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Jan 21, 2012 23:20:56 GMT -5
After a moment Adrien stood woodenly and drifted around the bare room. Most of his belongings were in the bedroom, but not all.
In fact he had one thing in the kitchen. Hadn't even thought about it, they'd just been glued to each other's mouths and then Crowley had mumbled and pulled back, "Can you get that off?"
He'd unhooked it deftly - "sure thing!" and plopped it on the counter. He didn't want to get it now, didn't want to put it on yet. The cross his mother'd given him, old, tarnished; she'd worn it when she was very small and now she was giving it to him. When her father - the grandfather Adrien had never met - and thrown her out, he'd forgotten to take that from her; perhaps her mother had remembered it, as it had belonged to her once, but ashen-faced, she'd stood in the kitchen unmovingly as though deaf to the proceedings.
Was he willing to give that up, everything connected to that, for Crowley? The point was moot, of course, but the question stood. Would he have been able to?
And yet the answer seemed resoundingly to be yes. Take the necklace to Maman, give it to her for baby Claire, and tell her goodbye again, probably for the last time; and then come straight back here...
Was it selfishness, really, to give everything up for love?
He'd never understand why a demon was doing everything in his power to keep Adrien as virtuous as possible, then. He sat back down in a chair and curled up, waiting for Crowley to go out so he could pack his bags and then run off. Even thinking about this inevitable moment caused more tears to fall. He lowered his head to his arms and drew his lip into his mouth.
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Post by Crowley on Jan 21, 2012 23:27:59 GMT -5
Crowley soon emerged from the bedroom and grabbed his car keys from a bowl by the door. He looked over at Adrien and nodded once before walking out.
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Post by Adrien Baillon on Jan 21, 2012 23:38:51 GMT -5
He looked down at the table, until he heard the sound of the door clicking shut. Then he finally allowed himself to cry. It was ugly, loud crying, and he was glad no one was around to see or hear it.
It didn't really subside so much as Adrien finally succeeded in suppressing it, after several tries. He got up, hurried into the bedroom, and threw everything back into his suitcase, and then, because he was being foolish, he remembered to dress, sitting on Crowley's bed - still unmade - and crying some more.
There were other things of his in this house, weren't there? Somewhere. His necklace. He'd get that last. A scarf on the couch. Actually, hadn't he shed an entire outfit on the couch recently? And shoes by the door. And a coat. Two coats.
He retrieved those things with a heavy heart, and he packed up, and then he put on the necklace.
And then he made the bed, in case seeing it unmade caused Crowley some distress.
He left half-hoping that Crowley would just happen to be on his way back and see him, and - and what? Say something? - and dreading this possibility enormously. He caught a cab back to Adrian's place.
He didn't regret the fact that he smashed a glass case and broke an award Adrian had received once when he threw his suitcase across the room in a fit of anger, or the fact that, when he'd lugged the suitcase upstairs an hour later and was unpacking it, he had decided to stab the living daylights out of a really nice pair of stockings with a pair of scissors. The only thing that he regretted was the way he hadn't found some way to convince Crowley that he was worth the risk, and the fact that that was impossible, because he probably wasn't.
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