Re: gotham russian tea room; loren & jules
Loren blinked at the repetition of a word unknown. Cariad. It made him think of birds, and Loren didn't know why, but he also didn't question it, didn't want to. A man who'd spent so much of his current life trying to remember, and once he'd known, he hadn't wanted to know at all. These days, in conversation, the unknown could be glossed over. He didn't need to know everything, Loren hadn't ever wanted to. He wasn't a man of questions.
He tried not to be.
If it wasn't a job, it wasn't immediate. If it wasn't immediate, it could be forgotten. Cariad. He took a bite of food when Jules resettled, and then he sampled a second bite from the same plate, assessing. Not trying to remember, just... determining. "If you'd like." A pause, a chew. Blue eyes that looked and questioned so many things more than any word he ever had spoken. "What have you been up to?"