It's been one of those evenings that will go down in history, he can tell. After the consumption of a shared platter of cheeses, plenty of wine and a few hours of relaxation in the warmth of a well-heated establishment, his body feels like overworked butter and his thoughts... They seem at ease. Claude doesn't consider himself the haunted type and he's certainly not afraid of his own mind, but it's been a long time since any sort of peace hasn't been obtained by way of complete exhaustion. Rather than this. Companionship. He glances sideways at Vincent when the man speaks, gesturing upwards at the walls surrounding them on both sides. The alleyway is sparsely lit and in the seasons of transition, like this one - in every sense - when the rainfall becomes more pronounced, the stench after a heavy downpour works better than any tied-up lady's smelling salts, he can assure you. It's such a lovely smell to take with you to work, keeps you on your toes all day.
"The first couple of years after I left the dormitories at the Opera, I lived in the basement of a building rather close to the Seine," he says, the hint of laughter audible as he pauses, tapping the brim of his hat at Mademoiselle Samson as she passes them by, all but pressed up against the opposite wall. Undoubtedly out without her father's knowledge or approval again. He smiles. She glances over his shoulder curiously, at Vincent's tall, slender frame, staring rather blatantly until they have moved out of each other's view. Claude ignores her. Undoubtedly, her father has complained about Claude's lifestyle often enough. Sounds travel in their complex. As do rumours. "During the storms that would hit us over the course of autumn, the Seine rose uncontrollably and I'd wake up to ankle-deep water in my room. When my father expanded his business and raised my allowances accordingly, I decided that I needed to get as far off the ground as possible. So here I am."
He concludes the observation with a nonchalant gesture of his hand, the one nearest to Vincent, by his side. After all, it's not just an end born of practicalities, though practicalities have their place. Claude wouldn't be dancing, unless he enjoyed the physical experience as well as the notion of being up in the air. Drawing to a halt in front of the front door to his stairway, he purses his lips slightly and turns to face Vincent fully. The brick wall behind him casts the both of them in a discreet shadow, Vincent's features muted, but his silhouette stark. A tower of darker nuances.
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"The first couple of years after I left the dormitories at the Opera, I lived in the basement of a building rather close to the Seine," he says, the hint of laughter audible as he pauses, tapping the brim of his hat at Mademoiselle Samson as she passes them by, all but pressed up against the opposite wall. Undoubtedly out without her father's knowledge or approval again. He smiles. She glances over his shoulder curiously, at Vincent's tall, slender frame, staring rather blatantly until they have moved out of each other's view. Claude ignores her. Undoubtedly, her father has complained about Claude's lifestyle often enough. Sounds travel in their complex. As do rumours. "During the storms that would hit us over the course of autumn, the Seine rose uncontrollably and I'd wake up to ankle-deep water in my room. When my father expanded his business and raised my allowances accordingly, I decided that I needed to get as far off the ground as possible. So here I am."
He concludes the observation with a nonchalant gesture of his hand, the one nearest to Vincent, by his side. After all, it's not just an end born of practicalities, though practicalities have their place. Claude wouldn't be dancing, unless he enjoyed the physical experience as well as the notion of being up in the air. Drawing to a halt in front of the front door to his stairway, he purses his lips slightly and turns to face Vincent fully. The brick wall behind him casts the both of them in a discreet shadow, Vincent's features muted, but his silhouette stark. A tower of darker nuances.