And also finds a state of relaxation. A means of severing some wire that connects brain and body, without actually becoming numb to it. Feels as though he can take a stroll through the complex, labyrinthine interior of his physical form, from the tips of his fingers to the way he has settled his spine to lay against Daniel, to the slight pinch of his ear where it pressed between his own skull and the other vampire's chest.
Vampires, perfectly still when the rising sun casts its spell. Armand doesn't let it, not for himself. He listens to the steady and full heartbeat in Daniel's chest, the draw of breathing. He would sometimes access Louis' dreams in a light sort of way, but only out of boredom—dreams are nothing special, the kaleidoscope tossing about of dirty laundry, a garbage disposal grinding memory into unrecognisable paste. Mostly, he checked it for anything that shouldn't be there.
No such ability here. Just Daniel's arms around him, still holding an odd kind of unconscious tension as if to keep Armand close. Safe not from him, but with him. Armand twists this thought around and around in his mind, like the keychain between his fingers. It makes him want to stay.
Does not. Daniel doesn't expect him to, and he finds himself meeting expectation. Quietly, slowly removing himself some hours later. Stands in his pyjamas for some more minutes, before he changes. Folds the borrowed clothing, sets it on the bed. Tries to decide if Daniel had meant it about the blanket thing, like making sure a parakeet stays docile.
Fine. He readjusts the blanket, drawing it properly over Daniel, a strange and morbid sort of tucking in. Looks at the shape this makes in the bed, and thinks: he, Armand, is a fool. Maybe Daniel will think so as well, when he rouses beneath his blankets as the night comes creeping.
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And also finds a state of relaxation. A means of severing some wire that connects brain and body, without actually becoming numb to it. Feels as though he can take a stroll through the complex, labyrinthine interior of his physical form, from the tips of his fingers to the way he has settled his spine to lay against Daniel, to the slight pinch of his ear where it pressed between his own skull and the other vampire's chest.
Vampires, perfectly still when the rising sun casts its spell. Armand doesn't let it, not for himself. He listens to the steady and full heartbeat in Daniel's chest, the draw of breathing. He would sometimes access Louis' dreams in a light sort of way, but only out of boredom—dreams are nothing special, the kaleidoscope tossing about of dirty laundry, a garbage disposal grinding memory into unrecognisable paste. Mostly, he checked it for anything that shouldn't be there.
No such ability here. Just Daniel's arms around him, still holding an odd kind of unconscious tension as if to keep Armand close. Safe not from him, but with him. Armand twists this thought around and around in his mind, like the keychain between his fingers. It makes him want to stay.
Does not. Daniel doesn't expect him to, and he finds himself meeting expectation. Quietly, slowly removing himself some hours later. Stands in his pyjamas for some more minutes, before he changes. Folds the borrowed clothing, sets it on the bed. Tries to decide if Daniel had meant it about the blanket thing, like making sure a parakeet stays docile.
Fine. He readjusts the blanket, drawing it properly over Daniel, a strange and morbid sort of tucking in. Looks at the shape this makes in the bed, and thinks: he, Armand, is a fool. Maybe Daniel will think so as well, when he rouses beneath his blankets as the night comes creeping.