( Louis hasn't let go of Lestat yet, one arm still around his shoulders. He meets Lestat's eyes in the mirror, his expression soft and open and just wide-eyed enough to make it clear that he, too, felt something when Lestat posed that question to him. He knows, of course, that it isn't intended suggestively — neither of them is in any kind of state for what that might imply on a better night, surely. But his eyebrows lift slightly, and he turns, resting his other hand lightly at Lestat's waist. )

If you wouldn't mind. I think some of the arm movements might prove difficult.

( He hesitates, tries to sound reassuring. )

I think the worst of the damage is already healed.