<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'">Oliver appeared relieved that Gen had found the pictures and for a brief moment, her gaze narrowed suspiciously on him. Why would he have pictures like that? And if they were his, why had Nathan kept them in his desk beneath a pile of other junk? Then again, she supposed the pair had done stranger things. They were partners, after all. They probably shared resources all the time. Genevieve decided to push her suspicions from her mind and nodded when he asked her to show him. The food was abandoned, the beer received one quick swig from her lips, and she slid off the stool. Her hand temporarily graced his shoulder for balance, the touch casual and done without thought.<br/>
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“C’mon, they’re in his office,” Genevieve told Oliver, confident he would follow her. The stairway was between the kitchen and living room with frames of their lives together adorning the walls. An embarrassing childhood photo of Nathan, one of her graduating from college, a candid of Oliver and Nathan from a party, puppy pictures of Dunkin. Her gaze briefly touched on the photos as she ascended the stairs and she debated whether she should send some of those to Nathan’s mother as well. With a small shake of her head, Gen focused on the task at hand. “The upstairs is a wreck, Oliver. So no judging.”<br/>
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At the top of the stairs, the hall to the left led to the master bedroom. To the right, the loft that was considered to be her space and a door to Nathan’s office. Deciding to go for the pictures first, Gen led Oliver into the room of chaos. The far wall of the office was comprised of one long bookshelf Nathan had built himself. While it was normally filled with books, Genevieve had spent one evening trying to separate hers from his, so there were huge holes of books missing and boxes littered nearby. Opposite to that wall were two dressers. The drawers were hanging open at random. He'd kept collectibles and random items in those dressers, so she was still in the processing of packaging all of it up. The large mahogany desk in the center of the room had a pair of windows flanking it as well as two plush chairs before it. The chairs had boxes in them, but the desk was relatively neat. A shiny iMac was on display and a single manila envelope sat before it.<br/>
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“I found the pictures in his desk drawer while I was clearing the desk out. Everything else is in the bedroom,” Genevieve explained as she swept into the room, arms crossing tightly beneath her breasts while she gazed around the room. There was so much of Nathan in that room, it was difficult for her to work in it. She had to do it in bursts, then go downstairs and recover. It had always been his space though, and she almost felt like she was trespassing. Both of them were social and enjoyed being around people, but required time to reenergize in solitude. It was one of her favorite things about their relationship. They were content with being apart when they needed it.<br/>
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Genevieve gave Oliver space to go behind Nathan’s desk to retrieve the photos, but watched carefully to see how he would handle it. There was something off about Oliver, more than just the grief of losing his best friend was bothering him. Briefly she wondered if it was whatever he had to say about Nathan’s death. Whatever it was, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to know.</span>