Re: log: jack/louis
School was not so very distant in Jack's memory. University had come after, and an inglorious finish to it, being sent down for sleeping with your tutor's wife was rather ignoble but he'd been tired of the palaver of reading things and sitting around talking about them and then writing them, and even if he didn't mind the poetry part of his course, the tiresomeness of reading books other people had written, most of which hadn't been written this century had weighed on him enough to make him decidedly antsy. School had been different; there had been games, and Jack's father had made it adroitly clear he was expected to be superlative. He had been, or at least, he had when he bothered. Louis hadn't been sporty at all, but Jack had rather liked him for being so much his own self. That, and Louis's parents appeared to be as distant and difficult as his own.
"Blend, identical, I swear you'd need a degree in art history to know them apart, and I got sent down before I got mine and it wasn't even the right one," he said as Louis skirted out behind glass and Jack was able to look at him properly. Very tall, and very aristocratic. Jack didn't look much like old aristocracy in the mirror but there was a desperate air of sparse grace to his old schoolfriend. He didn't look like he was doing too badly, which was excellent but it did make Jack wonder where exactly he'd parted company with people who weren't doing too badly before.
"What's that one?" He pointed at random to a piece of jewellery that looked like something his mother would have admired.