Good that they can't read each others' minds, sometimes. That Louis won't know that twist of apprehension when his eyes drop to Lestat's throat, or, worse still, the odd prickle of something like anticipation, bedroom warmth.
No longer is it true, that the last time he was held lovingly was when his throat was being opened. But this had been true for decades.
no subject
No longer is it true, that the last time he was held lovingly was when his throat was being opened. But this had been true for decades.
"If what, chéri?"