"And I can't even test you, because you could make anything up and I wouldn't know."

Daniel is also more than capable of lighting his own cigarette ('thanks', at Lestat, as he frees one), because he has a lighter. Behold, the miracle of fire. And because of tag turn order, despite the reluctance to engage in any meta cuddling due to not being quite oblivious enough tonight, he gets to engage in some incidentally sexually coded visual language. Clickclack, easy, a Zippo that looks as old as he is, leaning over with it and its tiny flame for Louis' cigarette.

Lights his own after. Nice to not worry about lung disease, with these. A wonder he didn't die of cancer or literal brain rot or a million other things years ago.