Louis winds closer. Easy for him to do so, because of his familiarity with Armand— he'll probably always be able to find him among the Many, when Armand isn't consciously obscuring himself. He isn't, now, and so there he is, held in his usual mental fortress but available, and faint glimpses can be caught. Frustration. And - even fainter - hurt?

'How convenient.'

(Is it.)

'Perhaps because no third party carried part of the weight. He was—'

Uncharacteristic faltering, trying to describe his now-fledgling. An insignificant mortal, some worthless drug addicted hustler, and yet Armand struggled to get his mind into compliance. Louis remembers that, surely, remembers stuffing more drugs into the boy, and hypnotizing him. Long hours. Over and over. Of course he was the thing that managed to disrupt the calm seal on Louis' mind. Aggravating, frustrating, fascinating.

'Challenging.' There. That word. 'Unlike your own relieved slide into forgetfulness. It wasn't easy for me. I didn't want to go on thinking of that argument alone, my temper shattered, your self-brutality, forever unresolved. I wasn't even sure it would take on you, a vampire, my.'

An awful pause.

'My companion. ... I left you with some memory of him. A mirror to his, as best I could. I could have taken it all away, Louis. I could have taken it all away and gone back to that house and gotten rid of a loose end of a boy, but I knew you cared for him. Even if you didn't remember, I would remember. I would know I did that to you. So I left what I did and I left him alone.'