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Date: 2008-07-12 03:31 am (UTC)
*He nods, a smile briefly ghosting across his lips as he folds the newspaper and places it on the table.*

I remember it.

*And he does. Plain white walls, a wooden floor - the room of secrets - some admitted to, some not, and of all kinds. Happy, sad, violent, regretful... he remembers it very well, having seen some of his own placed there in the past.

He watches Kristoph as he speaks, switching from German to French and back again without apparently noticing; the usual studied expression of amused unconcern lost. Tonight, Kristoph looks angry, upset - and the honesty of it surprises him.*


I see.

*He frowns a little in thought, returning the conversation to English.*

Kristoph. I do not know Apollo, but I am quite certain that Klavier wishes no such thing, whatever that room may have implied.

*He stands. It's only a couple of steps to the chair and he waits a moment, looking down at Kristoph, the frown lightening a little as he reaches out to brush the other man's jaw with his fingers.*

And what about your happiness?
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