I want you to stay, Louis had said. You're here, that's gift enough, he had also said, a little further back ago, and some less self-sabotaging wiring in his brain offers these up, which briefly serves to make him cry harder.

Unself-conscious in this way. Maybe too much so, certainly too much so to be very concerned if Lestat himself is making anything feel weird and awkward.

But, a breath taken. Recognition that he is being given advice, benefit of the doubt, trust in its own way, and he flicks a look back to Daniel, sitting attentive. A slight shift, angling his collapse to be partially more upright against the arm of the sofa.

"We began as friends," is back at a normal octave, but voice shivering still, thick in his throat. "In your book, it is different. It is friendship that disguises a predator. I didn't—it wasn't how I saw things. We would talk all the time. He would share everything with me, I would share what I could with him. And now," a slight laugh, "we are friends again, so. I don't wish to ruin it, I just—"

A shuddered breath out. "He knows I dislike being excluded."