He moves closer. He pays his body scarcely a passing glance. As usual. He's never had much use for it. He doesn't fixate, like I do.

Things haven't changed, for him.

It's not the same.

I look up at him when he leans back against the box holding his body. For all that I'm used to him, used to his face, that is a little unnerving. Like there's two of him... I look back down at my own youthful face.

"I used to think it was Etienne, you know. Or, non. I never really thought that. But I used to pretend."