This little joke is rewarded with a touch from Lestat's other hand, hooking against Louis' elbow, drawing his arm in closer.
"I have nowhere to hang it," as if this were the only reason why Louis might not make good on this offer. Most of the walls in his house in New Orleans are, after all, half wrecked, making interior decoration a challenge for anything that isn't natural plants pushing through waterlogged floorboards and crawling up his walls.
His hand squeezes. "No," easy. No, he does not picture himself as the menacing figure, out of place in this gallery. "Even at my worst, I was never so drab, es-tu d'accord avec ça?"
Well, he did dress in funeral colours for the trial, appropriately, but it was very chic all the same.
Aware, a little, that he is skipping past the point when he is being asked so gently, and a glance alongside Louis motivates him to add, "I see my maker. And I was the only one who did, as he appeared to me in all the colour and life churning around him. I see death," he adds, veering back to the painting. "While we dance together, a shadow in an open door, beckoning someone through it, unknown to us who it would be in the end. Always, some dark cloaked thing in the middle, no matter how lovely the room."
He speaks quietly, but perhaps doesn't truly mind that Daniel stepping away is the illusion of privacy rather than privacy itself. He knows everything. Knew more than the both of them, at one point.
And Lestat said he loved the painting, and this continues to be so, gazing at it with reverence.
no subject
"I have nowhere to hang it," as if this were the only reason why Louis might not make good on this offer. Most of the walls in his house in New Orleans are, after all, half wrecked, making interior decoration a challenge for anything that isn't natural plants pushing through waterlogged floorboards and crawling up his walls.
His hand squeezes. "No," easy. No, he does not picture himself as the menacing figure, out of place in this gallery. "Even at my worst, I was never so drab, es-tu d'accord avec ça?"
Well, he did dress in funeral colours for the trial, appropriately, but it was very chic all the same.
Aware, a little, that he is skipping past the point when he is being asked so gently, and a glance alongside Louis motivates him to add, "I see my maker. And I was the only one who did, as he appeared to me in all the colour and life churning around him. I see death," he adds, veering back to the painting. "While we dance together, a shadow in an open door, beckoning someone through it, unknown to us who it would be in the end. Always, some dark cloaked thing in the middle, no matter how lovely the room."
He speaks quietly, but perhaps doesn't truly mind that Daniel stepping away is the illusion of privacy rather than privacy itself. He knows everything. Knew more than the both of them, at one point.
And Lestat said he loved the painting, and this continues to be so, gazing at it with reverence.