[ Lestat's fingers needle slightly into where they rest on Louis' body. He does belong to Louis, body and soul he wants to say, even if Louis can't bring himself to accept his blood, even if they never share that intimacy again, they still have this; they are still magnetised toward one another, doomed forever to exist in terrible bliss with one another, fatally in love. And that is enough.. Or it should be.

The kiss is sweet and full of feeling, and Lestat tries to quell the curling darkness attempting to permeate this moment with thoughts of doubt, of what he does or doesn't deserve, of fear. It's easier once Louis pulls away and murmurs such a sweet sentiment against his lips. ]

I dare anyone to try and tear us apart. [ He squeezes Louis, just once, and presses a much faster and more casual kiss to his lips. Easy motions, comfortable familiarity, to banish any lingering gloom. ] Now, come. Our couch awaits. I hope you have enough energy to lift it, I won't hear any excuses.