A bad confession to make. He's aware of that. Thinks back to a night, not the night in question, but one more; saying that if Lestat ever decides he's a threat, Daniel can't stop him, and Louis will eventually get over it. Daniel stares at dinner for a little while longer, at the phantom impressions of teeth, gone with Lestat's crime scene care.

"Yeah."

Frowning about it. (Either you're a meaningless afterthought or I want you desperately.) Easy to get swept up while he's alone with Armand. With distance, everything begins to twist. Armand is a liar, Armand has had five hundred years in which to practice being a liar. Daniel thinks he's good at telling the difference, but everyone wants to think that. If not about themselves, then about others, but the truth is no one's actually great at it. He just works with what he thinks he knows. And what the fuck does he know about Armand?

Inhale, exhale. Daniel sounds tired.

"He said he'd quit having tantrums for attention," no points for guessing that Armand did not phrase it this way, "if I saw him sometimes. And I know that's stupid. I know agreeing to it is wading into quicksand on purpose. Standing in front of him, it's like, sure, I'm doing this to put a stronger buffer between him and Louis, but standing here now, it's obvious I'm just giving him a more solid connection."

If he's going to get decapitated, he might as well just explain.