[Five months ago? He’s known Cloud longer for that, which means that he had broken up with this loud man, this complete and utter stranger, during the time of their acquaintance, and he had no idea.
Vincent realizes that he doesn’t know so much about him at all. Beyond their shared time together, the endless array of movie-watching and book-discussions, the strolls through the park at night and too-early morning, he understands so little about what makes Cloud tick.
The proof of that is now pounding at his door, making vibrations run under his feet. He’s sure the tenants on the floors above and below would have something to say about this later.
Vincent meets his eyes, silent. Cloud silently tells him not to do it, to leave it be. Maybe he’ll go away.
He knows that people like this? They don’t. Five months later, and Cloud should know.]
Just sit there.
[And he turns, unlocks his door, and opens it just enough to peek through the slit of an opening, not swinging it wide all the way. His apartment is almost always dark, with the blinds drawn, and there’s not enough creeping sunlight to make out Cloud sequestered away on his couch, even if Vincent wasn’t blocking the view.]
Stop making so much noise. [—is his greeting to Roche.]
no subject
Vincent realizes that he doesn’t know so much about him at all. Beyond their shared time together, the endless array of movie-watching and book-discussions, the strolls through the park at night and too-early morning, he understands so little about what makes Cloud tick.
The proof of that is now pounding at his door, making vibrations run under his feet. He’s sure the tenants on the floors above and below would have something to say about this later.
Vincent meets his eyes, silent. Cloud silently tells him not to do it, to leave it be. Maybe he’ll go away.
He knows that people like this? They don’t. Five months later, and Cloud should know.]
Just sit there.
[And he turns, unlocks his door, and opens it just enough to peek through the slit of an opening, not swinging it wide all the way. His apartment is almost always dark, with the blinds drawn, and there’s not enough creeping sunlight to make out Cloud sequestered away on his couch, even if Vincent wasn’t blocking the view.]
Stop making so much noise. [—is his greeting to Roche.]