Louis isn't sure. Knows that it will not be so simple as walking out of the penthouse and returning to find Armand gone. Their lives are interwoven. Louis still sleeps turned in to the space Armand once occupied in their shared bed.
Lestat's hand is warm in his own. Permissive, easy. Louis is indulging himself in this small contact, letting this touch be an anchor. They're here, this is real. No one is dreaming.
"It took a long time," Louis agrees. "But I got it. Gonna figure what to make of it now."
Who is Louis de Pointe du Lac now? Who is he after seventy-seven years with Armand? Seventy-seven years without Claudia, without Lestat?
Heavy questions. None are Lestat's to answer.
Louis' head tips towards him, inquisitive, inviting. What else?
no subject
Louis isn't sure. Knows that it will not be so simple as walking out of the penthouse and returning to find Armand gone. Their lives are interwoven. Louis still sleeps turned in to the space Armand once occupied in their shared bed.
Lestat's hand is warm in his own. Permissive, easy. Louis is indulging himself in this small contact, letting this touch be an anchor. They're here, this is real. No one is dreaming.
"It took a long time," Louis agrees. "But I got it. Gonna figure what to make of it now."
Who is Louis de Pointe du Lac now? Who is he after seventy-seven years with Armand? Seventy-seven years without Claudia, without Lestat?
Heavy questions. None are Lestat's to answer.
Louis' head tips towards him, inquisitive, inviting. What else?