Re: gotham russian tea room; loren & jules
"They would have killed you," he said into the toned down burn of his own tea. It was a murmur, not something that Loren really wanted to be discussing at all. Not that those dead men existed in this world, or maybe they did, what did Loren know about the difference in dimensions and lives taken too quick?
"I don't know if you wanted me to save you or just not to go at all, but I know the difference between you and her." Hannah was pure innocence in a world deprived of it, and Loren didn't know how to classify Jules in realms of innocence. He didn't associate Jules with Hannah, not anymore. That was ages ago, that was a memory preserved in desert sand and worm-eaten flesh, vengeance found in blood and fire.
"Don't flatter yourself," he said when the teacup found its little saucer with a clatter, tea thankfully low enough in the cup not to slosh on the tablecloth. "I never mistook you for good." Maybe Jules knew the hymns and the church psalms, but that didn't make for good. Not pure like the way that he remembered the girl he'd failed to save. But this wasn't Vegas, and Loren didn't pray after pure anymore. If it existed at all, it wasn't meant to last.
"No, that is not what I liked." Loren wasn't sure that he liked the knowing in Jules' smile, but it existed all the same. Just like all of the elements of Jules that he couldn't decide if he found irritating or not, they existed. Loren sank back in his seat, and his fingertips thrummed the table's edge like he was considering something. Although he hadn't even taken a bite yet, so maybe it was just the food he was considering.