[ A small snort of laughter as he recognises the reference - touché, Monsieur Bérubé. They've had a few political discussions since that text message regarding consent and legislature and so far, he concludes that Claude's a lot more dangerous, verbally, than most people would give him credit for. His French contact went as far as to call him vanilla (after which he'd been told quite firmly to shut his fucking face); but as evidenced from his win today, certain things - and people - don't have to look hard to be tough. ]
Honest answer.
[ It doesn't make him look in any way cool or calculated and consequently, he takes a little time to choose his words, grabbing a smoke and lighting up first, keeping the tiny flame well-protected against the remnants of wind still managing to make their way through the courtyard. Honesty isn't the kind of valuta he usually values outside of his professional life - and not too often inside it, either - but in this case, he isn't trying to get them anywhere. They're already here, in a way, and there's no preferable direction, no obvious, logical goal.
It's equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. ]
I hadn't planned this. [ A deep inhalation. The smoke settles in his lungs briefly and his shoulders relax, his entire stance gaining a semblance of slouch. ] I just - came. I'll leave again once you tire of me.
[ Said without a trace of irony or humour - it's not an attempt to convince Claude to take pity on him, after all. It's just the facts, such as they are; Jean Louis felt a need to see him so he came. The rest comes after. ]
no subject
Honest answer.
[ It doesn't make him look in any way cool or calculated and consequently, he takes a little time to choose his words, grabbing a smoke and lighting up first, keeping the tiny flame well-protected against the remnants of wind still managing to make their way through the courtyard. Honesty isn't the kind of valuta he usually values outside of his professional life - and not too often inside it, either - but in this case, he isn't trying to get them anywhere. They're already here, in a way, and there's no preferable direction, no obvious, logical goal.
It's equal parts exhilarating and terrifying. ]
I hadn't planned this. [ A deep inhalation. The smoke settles in his lungs briefly and his shoulders relax, his entire stance gaining a semblance of slouch. ] I just - came. I'll leave again once you tire of me.
[ Said without a trace of irony or humour - it's not an attempt to convince Claude to take pity on him, after all. It's just the facts, such as they are; Jean Louis felt a need to see him so he came. The rest comes after. ]