Lestat presses his hand over Louis', indulging in this momentary press of contact. Then, takes his hand, uses it like needless balance as he goes to step into the silk-lined interior of the coffin.
Considers maintaining his dignified, prettily tearful silence as he stands on the plush silk, and then decides differently—
"I would imagine you with me," a little like it is dragged from him, a shake of his head preceding words as he decides to speak again. "Even before all of the unpleasantness, when we were being petty and slept apart, I'd feel as though we were still sharing as we preferred. And then after..."
A tip of his head, wandering his gaze aside. Like the staggering expanse of time has a depth to it, a gravity threatening to pull him out of orbit. Still here, though, says a squeeze of his hand. "When I permitted myself a little romance, I'd think perhaps you would go to coffin and imagine the same. Your fingers clutching a curl of my hair. Your body in my arms, carved out of the darkness."
Back to Louis' face. "Did you imagine me that way?"
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Considers maintaining his dignified, prettily tearful silence as he stands on the plush silk, and then decides differently—
"I would imagine you with me," a little like it is dragged from him, a shake of his head preceding words as he decides to speak again. "Even before all of the unpleasantness, when we were being petty and slept apart, I'd feel as though we were still sharing as we preferred. And then after..."
A tip of his head, wandering his gaze aside. Like the staggering expanse of time has a depth to it, a gravity threatening to pull him out of orbit. Still here, though, says a squeeze of his hand. "When I permitted myself a little romance, I'd think perhaps you would go to coffin and imagine the same. Your fingers clutching a curl of my hair. Your body in my arms, carved out of the darkness."
Back to Louis' face. "Did you imagine me that way?"