the last great dynasties — julian &. paris [jb]
Jun 6, 2021 9:43:30 GMT -5
Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Jun 6, 2021 9:43:30 GMT -5
and they said
"there goes
the last great
american dynasty."
"there goes
the last great
american dynasty."
He was surprised to see the paintings hung on the walls of the Justice building.
If their intent was helping children learn how to admire art before they are sent off to a hellscape, it … strangely worked. Hands clasped behind his back in a formal knot, Julian’s back was turned to the door as he traced an artwork depicting a ballroom full of dancing, graceful shapes, frozen in bold black strokes and softer, gentler gold paint. From afar, it had looked majestic but now, standing close to it, he saw the smorgasbord of brushstrokes more than the image they constructed altogether.
And that was when the door creaked open.
He turned slowly, steadily, hoping to see another sibling or cousin on the threshold between the hallway and this room, between their world and his new one, but then he saw Paris there and felt a flutter of surprise in his chest.
She was, as always, beautiful. He was certain that was the first trait men and women alike noticed when they took her in and looking at her now, her face colored in by the warm glow of the firelight from the hearth, he had no doubts about it. But Julian had come to know the way she carried herself with grace, or how ruthless she can be at fights. Paris Vanburen had beauty draped all over her like a loose veil but underneath it, she was something far more interesting and admirable. She was so much more than her pretty face.
Julian found himself smiling as she strode closer. “Did you get the flowers I sent for you?” he asked, letting his pearly whites show before he pressed a kiss to her cheek. Even now, she smelled nice, expensive notes of some tantalizing perfume. “They were supposed to be a reaping day gift, but now they’ll have to do as a goodbye present.” He arched a brow at her playfully. He felt afraid but he couldn’t let that show. So instead of letting Paris see what fears dwelt in the depths of his eyes, Julian turned back to the painting. “Such masterful work, isn’t it? Very ...” he chuckles, “very district one. Beautiful and a little gauche. Maybe the color palette took champagne as its muse.” Champagne. He could use a glass of it right now.
But back to the matter at hand –
“If I screw this up, do not let yourself play the role of the grief-stricken girlfriend. Bag another big name instead. Lumiere. Reigns. Maybe even a Fray. They can help you build the dynasty you want.” He cast her a sidelong glance then, letting enough of his smile peek through as he shrugs a shoulder and tilts his head to one side. “Or, you could build it yourself. We both know you’re much more than capable of it.” More than capable. Out of the two of them, it was Paris who would be more successful at carving out a name for herself and only herself. It was Paris who could escape her old dynasty into a newer, grander one.
His smile was a slick of white paint on his canvas face when he took her hand in his own and winked. “Just remember the lion prince you might have made your own.”
lyrics: the last great american dynasty, taylor swift.
