Yes. No. Stood in their home, watching Lestat look at him, Louis has a moment of agony wondering: Suppose this fixes nothing?
He can't afford to entertain that thought just now. Antionette's blood has soaked through to the skin. Lestat's expression is unreadable. One hand lifts, as if Lestat calling attention to it has drawn the blood to the front of his mind. Some pinch of a thing very like distress working briefly across Louis' brow. Feeling the weight of what he's done, wanting to separate himself from it.
Antoinette. Louis had hated her for so long, and now it is done. He wears the evidence of it still.
"Alright."
Up the stairs, down the hall, across the hardwood floors. Should go into their washroom. Louis goes instead into their bedroom, past the bed.
Clothes he means to put into the heart. They cannot be salvaged. This sits in his mind, intention that can be distracted or interrupted, should Lestat intervene.
no subject
Yes. No. Stood in their home, watching Lestat look at him, Louis has a moment of agony wondering: Suppose this fixes nothing?
He can't afford to entertain that thought just now. Antionette's blood has soaked through to the skin. Lestat's expression is unreadable. One hand lifts, as if Lestat calling attention to it has drawn the blood to the front of his mind. Some pinch of a thing very like distress working briefly across Louis' brow. Feeling the weight of what he's done, wanting to separate himself from it.
Antoinette. Louis had hated her for so long, and now it is done. He wears the evidence of it still.
"Alright."
Up the stairs, down the hall, across the hardwood floors. Should go into their washroom. Louis goes instead into their bedroom, past the bed.
Clothes he means to put into the heart. They cannot be salvaged. This sits in his mind, intention that can be distracted or interrupted, should Lestat intervene.