Work Text:
Even during their most amicable periods of domesticity, choices of decor could be contentious. This isn’t one of those periods.
“No one’s saying you shouldn’t have it,” Louis continues, knowing better than to suggest Armand discard anything that reminds him of those days. “But does it have to be here? Where we live, where we eat?”
Where Louis eats, Armand nearly corrects him. Instead, he turns his head, looking towards the painting, mounted while Louis slept.
“I remember thinking, then, that it was an excellent likeness, before the centuries took his face from me.”
Their eyes meet, and—recognition.
“Alright. Fine.”