So handsome, so reserved, compared to what he’d once been. The theater had used him up, it seemed, but hadn’t Paris done the same to me? Change had settled on both of us these past years, but his both intrigued and worried me. There was a depth, a knowing sadness in his expression that made me want to ask him where he’d been and what he’d done. Or what had been done to him. Life had worn down that boyish enthusiasm, paling the sparkle and dimming his eyes considerably.
