A little humour is rewarded with a little laugh, Lestat slipping fingers beneath the metal once more, an uncomfortable tightness as he begins to apply pressure.
"A pity," he says, "it was going to go over my mantle."
Daniel, in the front seat, the car in motion. As anxious and fussed as Lestat might be at any given time for their being a little group of three rather than simply putting Louis over his shoulder and vanishing into the night, they have lingered in each other's company long enough for him to find something comforting in it. Some stupid coven-adjacent instinct, maybe, or perhaps it is just them, who they are, who he is, what each little configuration means.
Gross. He snaps open the second cuff, rattles it carelessly, drops it in the front seat. "These are quite particular," he tells Daniel, before listing back into his seat. Keeping Louis' hand. "For your sleuthing."
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"A pity," he says, "it was going to go over my mantle."
Daniel, in the front seat, the car in motion. As anxious and fussed as Lestat might be at any given time for their being a little group of three rather than simply putting Louis over his shoulder and vanishing into the night, they have lingered in each other's company long enough for him to find something comforting in it. Some stupid coven-adjacent instinct, maybe, or perhaps it is just them, who they are, who he is, what each little configuration means.
Gross. He snaps open the second cuff, rattles it carelessly, drops it in the front seat. "These are quite particular," he tells Daniel, before listing back into his seat. Keeping Louis' hand. "For your sleuthing."