"It's—" Oh? Oh. Yeah. He nods at Lestat, then looks back at Louis, shrugging. "Drama and showmanship."

He had only been derailing to try and drag Louis into more shenanigans, but sure, that too. Little telepathic fingers against his, still, reassuring. It's not the alcohol that's making him feel loser. The contentment of being here and it being real. Daniel isn't too social, not really, but once in a while? Pretty fucking cool, seeing something this way.

He confesses, about volume, "I don't think I'd been in a bar with anyone else in fifteen years, before you surprised me outside the train station."

Still getting his socializing sea legs back.