Lestat's expression is agreeable, and then, a nose wrinkle at the notion of panda blood jell-o. An upgrade from rat? Maybe. Fancy rat.
He is otherwise reaching for his headphones and device as Daniel speaks, fiddling with them both of them to ensure they are pairing properly. He will indulge in something appropriately melancholic and stretch out on the seating, or perhaps start working his way through Daniel's recommendations, and try not to worry about whether his cellphone can receive calls while he is using it for music.
"I am sure he has not given up reading," he says, all the while. A glance up, a gesture with his phone, faint amusement mingled with exasperation. "Except in the situation of your book, apparently."
Because it is easier to tease them about it than actually look at that for any length of time. Back to scrolling his somewhat disorganised playlists.
"He already knows what's in our book," Daniel says gamely, "and he's already heard far worse commentary out of me about it than what was published."
Fourteen days of combat, intrigue, pain, bonding, upheaval, revelation, healing, worsening. Louis is allowed to skip it, just like Daniel is allowed to poke him about it. He thinks they each get it. Louis doesn't feel a need to scorch himself, Daniel feels like he only exists through his work. Balance, or something.
"And he read my other stuff, so I'm not too insulted."
Looked for himself in it. Found it, and couldn't recognize it—
Whatever. Headphones on is the universal sign of That's enough, pal, anyway.
A little lip curl, some unhappy thing about what Louis may or may not know of the book, of how necessary a reading is not—but Lestat's eyes are on his screen and he is choosing not to make it Daniel's problem in this moment. Whatever that problem might be.
Strains of music spill from unworn headphones. Fleetwood Mac.
"Then between he and I, we have your full repertoire," is his finishing flourish. He hasn't read Daniel's other books and will not begin now.
Headphones on. Time to—well, he cannot gaze out the window at this hour, wistful and thoughtful, but he can twist around with his back to the carriage wall and fold in on himself with a rustle of leather, and a heavy sigh out.
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no subject
He is otherwise reaching for his headphones and device as Daniel speaks, fiddling with them both of them to ensure they are pairing properly. He will indulge in something appropriately melancholic and stretch out on the seating, or perhaps start working his way through Daniel's recommendations, and try not to worry about whether his cellphone can receive calls while he is using it for music.
"I am sure he has not given up reading," he says, all the while. A glance up, a gesture with his phone, faint amusement mingled with exasperation. "Except in the situation of your book, apparently."
Because it is easier to tease them about it than actually look at that for any length of time. Back to scrolling his somewhat disorganised playlists.
no subject
Fourteen days of combat, intrigue, pain, bonding, upheaval, revelation, healing, worsening. Louis is allowed to skip it, just like Daniel is allowed to poke him about it. He thinks they each get it. Louis doesn't feel a need to scorch himself, Daniel feels like he only exists through his work. Balance, or something.
"And he read my other stuff, so I'm not too insulted."
Looked for himself in it. Found it, and couldn't recognize it—
Whatever. Headphones on is the universal sign of That's enough, pal, anyway.
no subject
Strains of music spill from unworn headphones. Fleetwood Mac.
"Then between he and I, we have your full repertoire," is his finishing flourish. He hasn't read Daniel's other books and will not begin now.
Headphones on. Time to—well, he cannot gaze out the window at this hour, wistful and thoughtful, but he can twist around with his back to the carriage wall and fold in on himself with a rustle of leather, and a heavy sigh out.
Peace.