Re: gotham russian tea room; loren & jules
"Everything isn't." Jules said it confused. New York was different, and it was nothing like other places. He motioned out beyond the yellow-gold. "Look out there. There's no bright sun and bustle. No crowded subways and people in brownstones. This place feels different. This shop, it would've been shut down long ago in New York City. The sun doesn't shine the same. It feels like old religion and older bad things. Everything isn't New York." He didn't know if Loren meant it literally.
Shrug and smile, and Jules watched. He trusted in things, but this conversation was still odd, and he shook his head. "I've no idea how you can't know. You just said things, and now you can't say you've no idea." He did better? Jules stared, and something crossed his features like knowing, though he didn't understand.
"Thank you for tea, cariad. Maybe you can hear me sing once I find a church to call home." But he looked at the other man straight on, direct and without flinching. "I've no idea what you want, and I don't understand the cryptic things you say. I would love to keep in touch with you, Loren, but I'm not for headgames. If you wish to know me, you can. I'll wish to know you in return."
He stood, and this time it was with an air of finality. A smile and pale blonde over the black that sheathed his shoulder.