Re: log: jack/louis
In Repose, there were probably people who took care of things like this. Who had bells and books and candles and who had a roaring trade in curing curses. In actual fact, Jack looked amused, "I probably know people who could do it, after all, they're fixing me." But Louis looked for what it was worth, moderately happy. As if a shop that came out of a will with no premeditation was exactly what he needed, a purpose.
It was, all things considered, rather a good place for Louis. Obscure and solvent, but also passionate. Passion was, Jack was discovering, deeply important when it came down to it. The more he remembered, the more he was certain about it. He looked at the moonstones again. "I think," he said thoughtfully, "They might have thought about what you'd find fulfilling." He looked at Louis once more, and smiled faintly.
"We're in touch. That's damning, isn't it? Do I talk to you, tell you anything, offer to listen? Probably not. And you don't want to hear of One Direction, they're appalling." He fished his phone out of his pocket and after a couple of minutes of tapping away, set the phone on the counter, blaring the latest track. "I mean, you might find them pretty, but they don't sing anything worth listening to."