Mon fucking Dieu, so much for breaking the ice with his comedic stylings.

Well, perhaps the ice is broken. Half-cracked. Lestat looks to Louis as Daniel moves away, understanding clicking, and that feeling he'd had on the phone, the oddly floaty impact of jealous aftershock, makes its return without warning. The story of these two, yes, he had wanted to know, and how Daniel was nearly Louis' fledgling, the source of that warm thread of affection disappearing into the fog of memory that he had been very polite about not intruding.

And now something about backgammon and/or orgies.

"He learned all his tricks from me," an impulsive rejoinder, even though he has no idea what they're talking about, arms folding across his chest.