Lestat had made no mention of sleeping elsewhere.

Louis and Daniel had spent the evening draped on the bed, an easy tangle, smoking and talking. Expecting interruption, eventually.

But Lestat had never come.

And now it is daylight and Louis cannot go anywhere to seek him.

Rachida has carried Louis' phone in so Louis can try, texting and then calling, and now—

Not pacing. Very still in the kitchen, trying to thread between anger and fear.

Daniel's nose begins to bleed, and the scent of fresh blood stirs Louis into motion. Crossing, reaching up to catch Daniel by the chin and knuckle away the blood as he asks, "What does it feel like right now, trying to reach him?"

Asking, in this roundabout way, if it feels like reaching after nothing.