Re: log: louis and ren
"Don't worry," he said, drily. "My mother is fond of just that sort of man, if my father is any indication."
Louis didn't feel like much, much of the time. He felt like a facade that he presented, layered over a core which worried and second-guessed whether it was liked or acceptable to the eye.
Politics, that Louis could fully comprehend. It helped shape a vision of Ren's mother in his mind's eye, gave her distinguishing characteristics which set her apart from the perhaps similar person of his own mother. She was appearance obsessed, but for no reason so lofty as political ambition. "You'll have to tell me when to stop asking questions," he said, almost apologetic. "But when did that start? Keeping up appearances, I mean, instead of just... being a couple." With some people it started with the wedding day, but maybe that wasn't the case for Ren. He hoped not.
He looked back at Ren, meeting his eye, glancing to his lips, looking up again. "I was trained for places like this," he said. "There's a version of me, somewhere else, in another world, still spending all his time in them. You too, I expect."