"Can you shut the fuck up !!, English , do you speak English?" Harry groaned sliding his large hand down his face in frustration because of the small blue eyed boy in front of him .
"je veux aller a la maison" Louis sobbed brokenly , shoulders shak...
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He lived in the towers . Homes on top of homes , families on top of families and he listened to classical whilst painting with a cigarette between lips - cherry wine always in the glass beside endless amounts of paint .
Homes on top of homes , families on top of families- he had aged , still handsome and gentle with his movements, hair curled behind his ears and the glasses that used to sit perched on his thin nose seemed almost as if a distant memory.
He was the artist. Homes on top of homes , still brush painting a younger Louis - a more childlike Louis it seemed as age and years had caught up with both of them .
He tucks his hands into pant pockets "August said to meet his friend here -" let's out a trembling breath "Christ . Who would have known it would -"
Louis nods slowly dusting off nonexistent specks off his now dried pants , the smell of piss is still strong and unwelcome reminder of what had only happened a few hours ago - he was waiting for a few hours " I-I'm sorry , I will go ."
"Louis tease me not " he smiles crookedly , there's gaps between his teeth and his lips are thinner than they were years ago " let's get you to my place yes ?"
Geoff , a bitter draft of winter wind , Geoff , mixed colors of murky water , Geoff , cherry wine so much fucking cherry wine .
If they were in Rome . Which was not built in one day he'd ask questions. Why did you send me home that night ?, did I not attract you or did you simply think enough of me to know what we were doing was wrong ?
Only if in Rome . In Rome with Harry' favorite book in his hand the yellow mustard color one with the brown rose would he ask such questions , sip cherry wine and look out into vast emptiness- ask all the questions that seemed to go unanswered in France .
" you have not gotten taller ." Geoff brushes pass an elderly woman , offers a smile and leans on the tips of his new life shoes - never one to live by society standards, if Geoff could simply walk the streets nude he would do such thing , he'd write uplifting words with black ink on his pale skin .
France is busy . Holding many stories in it hands and slowly becomes tired "walk here , no not on that crack it will pain me , walk on the side ."
"Bad ?" Louis questions toying at the threads on his shirt , shakes head no , no it's not bad .
They push against bodies , heartaches and drunks - tourist and lovers . Pass homes on top of homes and stand in front of a single house , a house with glass windows and a glass door - there's a flower pot with a dying rose withering even a drop of water would not save its life .
It's a painful reminder of age - Geoff was no longer the young man who lived in homes on top of homes , he was a man now , a man who lived in a house and paid bills and took out loans when times get hard .
"Do not mind the mess ." He mutters twisting the key in the hole , Louis braced himself for endless paintings , for paint splatters on the cream colored walls and cherry wine glasses discarded on every surface but not this anything but this .
Toys . Trucks , cars and princess dolls , child paintings and Disney movies .
"Papa, tu es à la maison" a stubby boy yells , he's wearing a Batman shirt with matching pants , his blonde hair swept to the side and cheeks rosy from running to meet his father at the door .
Geoff chuckles picking his son up , he was no longer the man in the towers , the painter in him locked away behind a steal wall and those painting burnt away with sadness - but was he honestly sad , did he wish to trade his children for paintings? To live in tower again with cherry wine or did he enjoy drinking it once a week with his children by his feet and their laughter around him .
" hunny -" a Blonde man walks out from the kitchen , rubs his hands on a cloth "did you pick up that friend August called about ?"
"Ah of course , come ,come meet Louis ." Geoff rushes , moves hand wildly in excitement.
It felt wrong for an old lover to meet anew, to meet the man that now held the new Geoff and probably had no idea about who used to live years ago , he was a mask and with every year he pulls one off , next year off , next year off and then on .
"Niall -" the blonde man reaches out his hand , a ring dances on his finger and he's beautiful simply beautiful an Irish accent far from French , he's far from home but has made a home here - built a family on the many foundations France had to offer , did he ever miss the Irish waters and the taste of beer ?, miss his family or the bagpipes ?
Their hands touch , feminine "Louis ."
His smile is like cherry wine , soft and gentle , he understands why August sent him to the lake , understands why he requested Geoff and a hurry , understands why Geoff traded painting and cherry wine for the life he has now ... his husband was cherry wine and his children were his endless paintings- timeless and never ending .
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