[ he hums in response - it is like a dream. He's seen this view countless times, but he still thinks it's beautiful. Paris is his home. It's not perfect, and it has plenty of ugly spots, but it's home, and it's where he belongs, even if the real thing hasn't got his face pasted all over it. Their being here with him is what really makes it dreamlike. There are so many things he wants to show them -- but this is about the limit of what he can do here, so the rest will have to wait until he can bring them to the real thing.
The thought enters his mind of its own accord - yes, the real thing, when he brings them back to Paris with him. It's not the first time it's crossed his mind. It had always been a fleeting dream, of course, one that he entertained only in brief flights of fancy; only recently has he dared to truly consider it. To selfishly steal Cairngorm away from their duties and to a life of love and adventure with him back home in the world of humans, instead. Ever since he'd seen them cry back then, and in that brief moment of passion confessed that he was glad to be here at their side, that he wanted to be there more than anywhere else, he's thought about it. Now he's thinking about it again. Always the romantic. He wonders what his old man would think of this situation - what would a proper gentleman do? Lupin's eyes drift from the cityscape to Cairngorm, distant and thoughtful, interrupted only by their question. ]
That's right - my whole life, generally speaking. The first twelve or so years were spent in places more like that dark alley than any beautiful main streets, but it's all part of the same city. Paris - the city of love.
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The thought enters his mind of its own accord - yes, the real thing, when he brings them back to Paris with him. It's not the first time it's crossed his mind. It had always been a fleeting dream, of course, one that he entertained only in brief flights of fancy; only recently has he dared to truly consider it. To selfishly steal Cairngorm away from their duties and to a life of love and adventure with him back home in the world of humans, instead. Ever since he'd seen them cry back then, and in that brief moment of passion confessed that he was glad to be here at their side, that he wanted to be there more than anywhere else, he's thought about it. Now he's thinking about it again. Always the romantic. He wonders what his old man would think of this situation - what would a proper gentleman do? Lupin's eyes drift from the cityscape to Cairngorm, distant and thoughtful, interrupted only by their question. ]
That's right - my whole life, generally speaking. The first twelve or so years were spent in places more like that dark alley than any beautiful main streets, but it's all part of the same city. Paris - the city of love.