#parieur.

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somber hues are peering down upon the baby's serene face as the man's index finger is brushing the baby's cheek . . . there's an unknown, lingered melancholy as he watches the little creature is breathing softly against the pacifier whilst their little hands are unclenching &. clenching; perhaps a tear has fallen from his eye as he remembers the distant memory of his head fell upon anaïs' stomach to listen to the fleeting heartbeats of their child, or rather her child, but the feeling itself brings a tamed simper of nostalgia.

nostalgia: it comes from the word nostos, which means returns home &. algos, which means pain. german has the word heimweh that has a meaning: homesickness. but can he be nostalgic when there's no home to return to?

forcefully, he wipes the tear from his cheek as he hears the door is opening &. someone approaches him; the familiar footsteps have convinced him to straightening his stance whilst a soft whisper intrude the tranquility. johann is shrugging whimsically as a soft chuckle is emitting from his brims, concealing the woe before glancing next to @parieur ,

‘ well. you gotta be specific, nothing has truly changed, except the fact that you spawned yourself in forms of little children, ’ the man's fingertips are moving to the baby's hair as he sweeps gently the tresses from the little babe's face.

nostalgia, the feeling of wanting to go home; perhaps marcel did find a home within his company as he is reminiscing by-gones, &. it makes him scoffing upon the thought, merely because of the years have passed &. they have been inseparable .. it is uncanny to ponders upon their friendship, however to be nostalgic about it seems natural because they have changed unwillingly, &. yet still remain the same, ‘ did you ever think that you can achieve this? truthfully, i didn't think that you have the will to settle down. ’

" do you remember how it used to be ? " / from here .

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HIS BREATHING IS STILL RAGGED WITH VIVID BAFFLEMENT SEEPING THROUGH HIS NOSTRILS⸺almost emitting a derision, albeit being held with shaking hands sweeping his sweats from his forehead . . . SPOTANEOUS KILLINGS, WITH THE VICTIMS ARE SPRAWLING ACROSS THEIR FEET, lifeless, with blood splattered through the floor to their shirt. spontaneity perhaps justified if it is meant to protect each of them, however by the look of silent elation lacing through @parieur's eye speaks differently. Johann knows that the man can be a sadistic murder, however sloppy? hastily? isn't his style. perhaps it is why he says it is spontaneous; an act of self-defense, however johann is still staggered, as he wipes the blood from his shoes to the nearest victim .. the man softly murmurs through his disgust,

❝  yeah, sure, i can see that, ❞ sardonically tossing his jacket to the ground as it is besmirched by the victim's bloods; consciously separating himself from the situation and reaches for his own firearm from behind: he had prepared to pull the trigger in anytime, however the other's spontaneity forces him to become a bystander of the closeted carnage against four people that were ambushing them for even existing in one place . . . AN UNFORTUNATE SET UP, OF WHICH EITHER COULD GET KILLED IF CHIFF WASN'T SPONTANEOUS ENOUGH, ❝  this isn't exactly your style, but i appreciate that you had my back, bruder. ❞

LE CHIFFRE SAID, I'M STILL SITTING THROUGH THINGS, BUT THE KILLINGS WERE SPONTANEOUS FROM BLOOD IS THICKER THAN ... ; ACCEPTING.

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a playful simper from his lips complements @parieur 's jest whilst they embrace within cordial embrace &. a peck upon the man's cheek as a form of unexpected greeting⸺an embrace that has tell tale johann that there is no arduous business involved within his acceptance to a fleeting escapism, as johann has made it patently clear that the budding harvest season has come at last &. johann fathoms that marcel would savour the foreign flavour he has kept hidden from the others in his childhood's place where he would keep people at bay . . . ❝  well, i bought this land for family's reasons⸺but since something happened couple months ago, i had to come here &. see how the production's going for this year, ❞

an exasperated sigh, purposefully looking over his shoulder to emphasize upon the upheaval behind, with the sun's scorching upon their skin &. distant voices calling names to work; perhaps another reason he invites marcel over is to make him get involved in the production . . . but johann wouldn't do that, at least not on day one. ❝  would you like to take a look around or would you go to the house instantly? i gotta tell you, do you see the house within 500 meters? yes. that's my oma &. opa's house, they're mostly the ones that keep the vineyard running but since the old man is dead, &. oma has become paralyzed, the house is full of caretakers &. sometimes they would go to our house, see that one? that's where you &. i live for couple of days. i apologised in advance but you know, old people are fussy. ❞

CONTINUED FROM THIS . . .

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a forceful thwack upon his face has precipitously awakening him from restful slumber––––jolting to the cushion whilst his hands are defensively shielding his face from further assault; his consciousness eventually mustered, blinking rapidly as the other person purposefully opens the curtain thus the dawn is seeping &. he lets out an exasperation sigh, before he pulls a muscle from abruptly trying to sitting up on the sofa . . . it's @parieur 's fault merely because the man has a very specific ultimatum to kick him out from the bed, regardless of how vigorous the night before; that's simply because he won't let his pride to be prowled for second time,

❝ du bist ein Arschloch, bist du dir dessen bewusst? ❞  cracking his joint upon the neck as he covers himself with the duvet the man throws at him after their rendezvous, he suspects that his clothes are still in the bedroom, which is out of the boundary to trespass because of marcel's tradition in the morning thus without a choice, he loops the fabric around his hips whilst following the man's path to the kitchen; breakfast in five a.m was essential to the other, especially when the children aren't there to spoil because they are out of the town,

❝ did you just go swim &. make a whole breakfast? ... one night, &. suddenly he's more energized than before, ❞  muttering under his breath as the man's gaze flickers from various, but mostly sweet breakfast; johann decidedly take a piece of bread &. butter before munching it, without any sweet jelly.

there's no book that usually accompanies him during the breakfast thus his eyes are solely fixated upon marcel's face, that looks unbelievably cheery than last night; he knows how his charm effecting on people, but to see marcel has noticeable glow makes him silently titters, ❝ you're welcome &. thank you, by the way, for the food, ❞  words trail on the first sentence, &. beam impishly playing as he takes the coffee mug to sip before continuously to chatter, ❝ i think my suitcase is still in my room. do you mind if you give me your shirt &. pants if you already throw mine to the laundry? ❞ 

le chiffre said, “  i made breakfast.  ” from MORNING AFTER STARTERS ; accepting.

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superfluously rolling his eyes with his physique is facing away from the other man–––––it is evident that johann dislike to be confronted with questions that would suggest a veiled isolation from the rest of the people he knows; he doesn't think that he wants some company, nor does he think he did come to the house for a particular reason . . . his presence is simply be. the man's scooting to the coffee bean grinder, impulsively making himself a coffee as he always does whenever he comes over for a moment; it is one of those days that he comes over for no particular reason, &. it is out of habit to uplift his vein,

❝  neither. i just need to have a coffee from your home before i start my day, ❞  churlishly quipping whilst he starts to put some of selected beans to the grinder, purposefully vexing the other man for his unannounced appearance, but he believes it is cherished if one of the children woke up from their slumber .. that would still take an hour however,

❝  alright fine. since the children and the missus are sleeping, but wait where's the moka pot? oh. there it is. ❞  placing the essence to the moka pot, johann's meticulously evening the edges, purposefully yet again vexing the other man who sits on the other edge of counter; scrutinizing him as if he were an object to fathom, finding out his reason to be here in early morning.. eventually johann's attention diverts from the moka pot to @parieur, begrudgingly whispers something that feels menacing, &. ominous, with shoulders shrugging,

❝  a hospital called me last night about someone had my number in their contacts &. tried to find any living relatives of this person to collect him from the morgue. obviously i thought that it would have been my father, and thank god he finally died, but by the time i went there–––––this person wasn't my father. but it was my previous employer whom i was close with before i worked with you, or my company at all. rope bruise &. nails scratches on neck, no gun wounds; so i am gonna ask you this, did anyone from your part tried to eliminate every contacts i had before? you can come talk to me clean, before i start asking around to my parts–––––i'm just .. are they gonna kill anaïs? ❞ 

le chiffre said, ❝  did you come by for a reason or did you just want some company?  ❞ from CONVERSATIONAL  SENTENCE  STARTERS  

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Marcel wasn’t the type of man with a personal life blooming with friendships, Johann was one of the few, had been so for nearly two decades. A long time to keep someone around, an even longer time to establish and maintain a healthy level of trust. Time was the big feature of their interesting relationship, so it felt appropriate that Johann’s gift had been hand picked around eight months prior, and restored to pristine condition by Marcel himself. Unlike Gloria, he wasn’t a good cook, nor a specially emotional man, but doing something with his own hands [ even if that was simply a restoration work ] was a shown of care.

A golden box, traditional to IWC’s 70’s packaging [ one that was the watch’s original casing, given the original model’s date ] was placed in front of him as soon as they were left alone in the dining room, faint children voices and the smell of coffee, possibly from the dessert that was planned, came from the kitchen across the hallway. “You are getting old. Might want to watch how you spend your time more wisely. Happy Birthday.”

lips are wobbling from the man's courteous mien, before an instantaneous scoff is emitting effortlessly–––––the tiniest jest he could ever find from him, orchestrated deliberately with precise delivery &. attention; it is one of the things others won't find easily within marcel, except you've endured twenty years of ambiguous friendship to kinship.

his prompt reaction might offend other people as if johann doesn't appreciate the gift & the effort he puts; however, marcel might laughing beside of him, for allowing themselves to be relaxed for awhile, without other people .. that doesn't mean neither like others' company, however johann fathoms marcel couldn't do it with presence of other people; he's sentimental like that, johann knows that,

❝ and how do you suggest should i spend my time more wisely? ❞  beaming, his hands are slithering to fetch the golden box, adorned by the symbols he's familiar with, however within is something valuable he will cherish; a representation of the time they have spent, &. will spend &. shall ticking continuously until the time has gone. the man's inspecting the glamorous, tiny details of the watch that he thought he could never own, merely because he doesn't have the time to try have an effort to learn project restoration just yet, &. it proves that marcel knows how to spend time more wisely; unlike him, a man who is still thinking that time is available for him–––––patience, waiting, doesn't he have dream about spending time with his own family than somebody's family?

❝ thank you. i don't know what to say, ❞  he's putting back the watch carefully to the box once again, closing it patiently whilst a sigh of relief dispersing; perhaps he will spend his time more wisely, but doesn't mean that time would change for them? johann's hand is reaching for the man's shoulder, with nostalgic smile, he whispers ardently, ❝ thank you. i truly appreciate it. ❞ 

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@parieur says " what time is it? maybe we should go grab lunch. " from here

digits are absentmindedly fidgeting within the lack of the constant presence of cigarette 'tween; a conscious decision that agonizingly grows upon him within the @parieur 's presence because of his unfortunate condition that forces him to silently musing in aching muscles from vigorous pleasantry . . . they lie for awhile sometimes, regardless of chaste solicitude inculcate between them, merely because they have to catch a breath, rather than contemplate their affection upon another;

after liaison, there will always be a jest, simply because the way the other would change their demeanour instanously, as if it were another person he had laid upon. the man steals a glance from another, with an impish simper lacing with a chuckle, he moves ever so slightly, merely to rolls the protection from his shaft &. saunters to the bin, ‘ three p.m. i suppose i can have a lunch outside, but .. are you sure you can sit later? ’

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chapped brims are unknowingly quirking into a lopsided simper, with tips are absentmindedly sweeping the garment upon his knee. his conversation with @parieur has always been an abysmal contention of a lingering past; untouched, yet defined their conflicted repute .. paths have differed, however the tide is rolling through the foams of hidden expectations: secrets, the ones they clutch upon to be safe, but didn't they feel safe once, that they could consider that the secrets were fruitless attempts to be perceived by one another.

what else is there, to be exposed, when their soul did touch once, but it didn't linger forevermore.

‘ hm. maybe. but wouldn't you have an access to all secrets in the world? ‘ a challenge, or perhaps a confirmation of his esteemed position that has surpassed unfathomable dream he spoke once when he told him he has a demanding job; johann did want to know, merely because the connotation lure benefits he longs, but they had differed once, but it shouldn't happen twice now, ‘ even yourself wouldn't remember if it's your secret or others––––––it's all the same for you; statistics, for your own advantage, ‘

audible slaps upon his thighs as he stands abruptly from their confining chairs; the remaining hue may judge him for being redundant because he forthrightly tells the truth the other seek; that secrets don't mean anything to him personally, but a tool to be possessed, ‘ but i assure you, my secrets; the ones you might think can be useful for operation, they have used it on me. i do want to erase it however, but i have to be somebody else. they are no longer perceive you as you were before, aren't they? maybe you can give me that a little; a token of the things we had done before. don't you want to keep me in your pocket? ‘

“ we all have secrets, don’t we? ”   / from here.