The urge to say, You weren't, you were so far away.
It had been Louis and Armand together for so long. Louis and Armand and the grief Louis carried, the pain, this longing that he could never shed and hated himself for. Lestat takes him into his arms again and Louis turns his face in against the warmth of his neck. Breathes.
(Some curl of satisfaction, noting the way Lestat smells like him now.)
"You're here," skirts away from the thought. Dreaming Lestat into rooms and around corners and into the dark, seeing him on dance floors and hotel lobbies, hearing him in snatches of music. Years and years, finding pieces of him in every place he and Armand went.
"We don't gotta do that anymore."
No need for dreaming. Here they are. They missed each other, and they don't have to anymore. Louis should let go, but he doesn't. Holds on, because it is such a luxury. Holds on because Lestat won't.
no subject
The urge to say, You weren't, you were so far away.
It had been Louis and Armand together for so long. Louis and Armand and the grief Louis carried, the pain, this longing that he could never shed and hated himself for. Lestat takes him into his arms again and Louis turns his face in against the warmth of his neck. Breathes.
(Some curl of satisfaction, noting the way Lestat smells like him now.)
"You're here," skirts away from the thought. Dreaming Lestat into rooms and around corners and into the dark, seeing him on dance floors and hotel lobbies, hearing him in snatches of music. Years and years, finding pieces of him in every place he and Armand went.
"We don't gotta do that anymore."
No need for dreaming. Here they are. They missed each other, and they don't have to anymore. Louis should let go, but he doesn't. Holds on, because it is such a luxury. Holds on because Lestat won't.