Daniel will not be checking his messages, hearing that. Maybe if they'd interfered less with editing the book he'd give them more leeway, actually pass information along now and again, but he feels like he's done plenty for them.

Then again. Louis wants to talk to Sam. Maybe Daniel can give them some bullshit for a better number to try. Not now, though. Still battling exhaustion and migraines and misery.

And, this. It takes some willpower not to give an exasperated sigh at the self-pity. Come on, man, just because you didn't do everything doesn't mean you did nothing. The silver lining is that, true, being angry won't cause Louis to trust him. Fucking hell, Lestat.

"That's not true." Daniel leans back on the sofa. "He wants to trust you."

Surely that's fucking obvious. Would be even to a blind person. Right? Louis' been desperately in love with Lestat ... forever, Daniel thinks, and nothing has changed that, not even Louis wishing he wasn't, not even Armand's near-century mindfuck. He still looks at Lestat like he hung the moon, even when Lestat is being the most ridiculous creature Daniel has ever seen. In person, and secondhand. Your 'love' was in a box.

"It's just going to take time and work. Shit nobody likes, I know."