The light caught his eyes and they turned bronze, his jaw clenched as she took him in with wide eyes. She walked slowly around him, and he stood, ston... still like a statue. ‘What the hell happened to you?’ she asked. He didn’t answer for a moment. She reached out to trace one of the scars with her fingers. He flinched at her touch. ‘I told you.’ He said quietly. ‘I had a life before this.’ She circled back around so that she could face him. Before she could stop herself, she ran her hands up. Most women he spoke to on this matter would now ask "What you on?" Or they would pretend not to have heard anything. He was more anxious than he should be. Why should he care what Vivienne thought about the Quentin she had just met? Not all Quentins were especially kind to him for the moment of his residency. He had several times suffered venereal disease, war wounds, and an uncomfortably generous waistline."Yes. It's fascinating," said Vivienne, puffing smoke from her cigarette and running a. More

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