It's not an unfamiliar expression on Lestat's face, except that Louis had nearly forgotten it. Hadn't thought of it for years and years, had remembered all the other expressions Lestat wore but none of the most fragile. The sight of it twists in Louis' chest. He lifts his hand, cupping Lestat's cheek.

Yes, he understands.

"I'll close you in," Louis murmurs. "Like I used to."

Not quite like they used to.

Louis closing the door to their room, then joining Lestat. They'd shared more often than not. They'd learned how to fit together so thoroughly that it had been instinct, required no thought at all.

Maybe Louis' body still knows. He isn't certain. Can't be sure what's left to him now.