A few beats of silence, as Armand considers at passive remove the way the potential for coherent explanation, truths and lies, spin wildly out around him, as disconnected as shattered debris blasted into the void of space. What he wants could probably be fitted together from those things.
It feels as easily articulated as reaching into the night sky, through the city smog, and rearranging the positions of the stars to spell it out for them both.
"I don't know," as a result. It feels reckless, honesty. Like handing someone weapons to injure him with, but Daniel, of all beings, scarcely needs the assistance. Self-effacement doesn't look good on him, but what other language is available? The defeated vampire, he'd described himself as in his mythmaking of the past. Prophetic.
The stars would probably spell something cloying. 'Companionship', just like any vampire. An unwieldy word. It would take several constellations.
"But I sometimes liked our conversations," he adds, instead. Cleaving closer.
no subject
It feels as easily articulated as reaching into the night sky, through the city smog, and rearranging the positions of the stars to spell it out for them both.
"I don't know," as a result. It feels reckless, honesty. Like handing someone weapons to injure him with, but Daniel, of all beings, scarcely needs the assistance. Self-effacement doesn't look good on him, but what other language is available? The defeated vampire, he'd described himself as in his mythmaking of the past. Prophetic.
The stars would probably spell something cloying. 'Companionship', just like any vampire. An unwieldy word. It would take several constellations.
"But I sometimes liked our conversations," he adds, instead. Cleaving closer.