Fingers on his side softly stroking felt wonderful; Bastien had forgotten how wonderful simple touch could be. Not sex, just the sensation of being held and caressed. Back in the sanctuary he had had people in his bed for hours most nights, indulged in their bodies as often as he pleased. Here, as much as he would never admit it, he was often lonely.
"I think most of us, in youth, do not want to plan for old age. But I am glad I can provide for you a good picture of how it could be. You will be a lucky old lady if you are on the chest of a 32 year old man, hm?" He laughed, looking down and meeting Rexanna's eyes as she glanced up at him. For a moment he felt an intense pull, a need to lean down and-- no. He gathered his thoughts and answered her question.
"It was on the water. With large stone buildings grander than anything I've seen here." Was there a hint of snobbery in his voice? Maybe. "A place of art and love, if you knew where to look. Carnivale, the Opera House...ah. And of course, all my students. Perhaps it is egotistical but I wonder if they are all lost without me. I was not only teacher but landlord, mentor and companion. Where would they have gone?"
Sometimes he had fantasised that when he returned to Venice (and he still clung onto the idea that he would return, one day) it woukd be as if not a minute had passed. He would wake up in bed on the same night he had arrived in Caido not having missed a thing. "...But how is one to know their old home even exists, anymore?" Bastien Push back, push back, push back,
With every word and every breath.
What god doesn't give to you,
You've got to go and get for yourself.
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