[Of all the reasons D might come up with for why Leon is here, handing him a piece of paper isn't actually one of them, alright. Honestly, his first thought when he sees a piece of folded paper is that it's some kind of arrest warrant, and he'll have to laugh Leon summarily out of his shop and back onto the street because this is Italy. He can't be arrested for what he definitely didn't do in LA here!
But he also can't imagine what it really is, a wrinkled scrap, so as he reaches forward to take it and unfold it, he raises an eyebrow in confusion. This is what, exactly?
Once he's unfolded it and actually taken a look, it's as if the very air in the room is holding its breath. He'd... forgotten. He had forgotten, and Leon has followed him around the world to, at least in part, hand this drawing back to him. He can't even remember if leaving it behind had been intentional in the moment, after everything else that had happened. Packing it certainly had been, but things became so complicated, and then...
The uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest becomes, impossibly, even more so, and he takes a moment to stare down at the paper before he looks up again. His expression is tightly controlled, but even then, it's probably obvious that he's doing that.
He leans forward, placing the picture on his latest antique coffee table and smoothing it flat, hand lingering over it before he sits back again.]
no subject
But he also can't imagine what it really is, a wrinkled scrap, so as he reaches forward to take it and unfold it, he raises an eyebrow in confusion. This is what, exactly?
Once he's unfolded it and actually taken a look, it's as if the very air in the room is holding its breath. He'd... forgotten. He had forgotten, and Leon has followed him around the world to, at least in part, hand this drawing back to him. He can't even remember if leaving it behind had been intentional in the moment, after everything else that had happened. Packing it certainly had been, but things became so complicated, and then...
The uncomfortable feeling settled in his chest becomes, impossibly, even more so, and he takes a moment to stare down at the paper before he looks up again. His expression is tightly controlled, but even then, it's probably obvious that he's doing that.
He leans forward, placing the picture on his latest antique coffee table and smoothing it flat, hand lingering over it before he sits back again.]
And how has Christopher been doing lately?