Lestat leans against the brick, considering Louis in this lower light. Infinitely familiar, these little shows of deference, self-effacement. As if to make up for his pride in other things. An astute reader, a self-taught intellect, a businessman who cracked the code a long time ago and never wants for anything.
Those are all nice, of course. "I was leading," he agrees. "But leading is only touring you around the room. Displaying you to them as you turned in my arms. All were watching you, in New Orleans."
Maybe Louis didn't notice. Maybe they are naturally biased in this way, locked in on each other, the world melting away, but Lestat is very sure he's correct, consumed as he was in the task of facilitating Louis' steps. As if to say, behold. None of you knew anything about him, none of you ever will, and your petty lives are at a deficit for it.
"But you were a dancer before you met me," he adds, turning his cigarette aside to ash it. "As though there could be even more to love about you, when I was turning you, your blood offered to me memories of you doing your steps with Paul as a child. Again, at your sister's wedding. It made me think, won't it be wonderful, our eternity, that we can dance together whenever we wish? That for us, there will always be music."
He has a had a lot to drink, so maybe he can be forgiven for the ways his eyes go misty, maybe disguised in his look aside, where ash spirals and winks out. Well, perhaps he is permitted one or two indulgences, given how well-behaved he has been.
no subject
Those are all nice, of course. "I was leading," he agrees. "But leading is only touring you around the room. Displaying you to them as you turned in my arms. All were watching you, in New Orleans."
Maybe Louis didn't notice. Maybe they are naturally biased in this way, locked in on each other, the world melting away, but Lestat is very sure he's correct, consumed as he was in the task of facilitating Louis' steps. As if to say, behold. None of you knew anything about him, none of you ever will, and your petty lives are at a deficit for it.
"But you were a dancer before you met me," he adds, turning his cigarette aside to ash it. "As though there could be even more to love about you, when I was turning you, your blood offered to me memories of you doing your steps with Paul as a child. Again, at your sister's wedding. It made me think, won't it be wonderful, our eternity, that we can dance together whenever we wish? That for us, there will always be music."
He has a had a lot to drink, so maybe he can be forgiven for the ways his eyes go misty, maybe disguised in his look aside, where ash spirals and winks out. Well, perhaps he is permitted one or two indulgences, given how well-behaved he has been.