Upfront. To the point. Firm. They were only a few on the list of adjectives Louis was compiling in his head to describe his son's lover, none of them tinted with the bitterness he had harbored for Eivind prior to his visit. The near-stranger's explanation for why he wished to marry his son was far more comprehensible than he would have expected from someone intent on marriage after less than a year of dating. There were elements of that idyllic romanticism in Eivind's words. The man was devoted, perhaps utterly enthralled with Blue. It was unusual for Louis to hear a man like Eivind speak of such fierce dedication. Rarely did he ever hear his longtime friends describe their intense loyalty in regards to their own wives. It felt to Louis as though such emotions were a young man's burden. If Eivind carried a flame inside of him that burned brightly for Blue, there was nothing he could say that would drive Eivind away. But Louis was slowly coming to the conclusion that perhaps he didn't need to.<br/><br/>The culmination of Eivind's speech left very little for Louis to contest. Eivind was already making plans and Louis would just have to be along for the ride. He nodded his head in understanding, watching as Eivind took a long drink of water. “Thanks for stopping by,” he said, standing and following Eivind out. “I appreciate you making the effort to come down here.” Not a lie. “Perhaps I will be seeing you again soon.” Maybe a lie. Difficult to say. Perhaps it depended on Blue and his response to Eivind's news that he had visited the Broussard home on his own.<br/><br/>Louis' piercing blue eyes stared as Eivind climbed into his old truck and drove off, diesel engine rumbling down the street as he went. He was grateful for the solitude. His dirt-encrusted gloves were slipped back on and he returned to his patch of Blue Dream Columbine flowers, picked solely at the request of Katherine for reasons all too obvious to a regretful, pained parent.<br/><br/>-----<br/><br/>Blue met Eivind in the north east parking lot. It was easy to track the wolf down by the sound of his idling truck alone. He was happy to hop into the cab and wrap his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders, clinging and hugging him close, taking in the earthy scent of Eivind's skin and hair as he pressed his lithe body against Eivind's more muscular physique. “I missed you,” Blue whispered, pressing his lips against Eivind's neck before pulling away. With Eivind being injured, the couple had been near inseparable for weeks. It was strange for Blue to return to a world pre-Eivind, wondering what the wolf could be getting up to in his absence. He had mentioned something about having to go to the hardware store, and but Blue was surprised to hear that shopping for new tools and supplies hadn't been the only thing Eivind had decided to fill his time with.<br/><br/>“You saw Papa?” Blue repeated, knitting his brow together in confusion and concern. He didn't quite understand what would've compelled Eivind to visit the Broussard patriarch without him, but as the wolf hadn't come to him shaking with rage it seemed things had transpired amicably enough. “And he wasn't... he wasn't mad at you?” Unsure of what to expect, Blue had avoided contacting his father directly since that day at the hotel, only conversing with his mother and sisters. Reaching out to Papa still felt like a risk; the last few times Blue had made the effort hadn't turned out wonderfully.<br/><br/>“My day was... it was okay,” Blue replied, distracted by thoughts of his father. “First days are always fairly dull. Going over the syllabus, expectations of the class, blah blah blah. Probably won't even<i>talk</i>about the interesting stuff until next week.” Blue had opted for classes twice a week on Mondays and Wednesdays, leaving the rest of the week open for art projects, commissions, and anything Eivind might need assistance with.<br/><br/>He waited until they returned back to the grimy motel before calling his father. His fingers trembled as he held the cell phone up to his ear, listening for the familiar voice on the other end. After three rings, Louis answered, causing Blue to stumble over his words in surprise.<br/><br/>“Oh! Allo, Papa,” he began, voice shaky and quiet. The young man spent the next five minutes conversing with his father in French. A short conversation, but one that seemed to go well enough. By the time Blue had ended the call, his body had calmed that anxious physical nagging and a small grin lingered on the young man's face.<br/><br/>“Apparently you made an impression on him, Vin,” Blue claimed, setting his phone down on the nightstand. “I mean... he doesn't seem to hate your guts anymore. So that's certainly a good first step.”