[ For a moment there, Lestat wonders if Louis has somehow managed to see inside his head and is now picking out thoughts and using them against him in this veritable onslaught of possibilities. He knows Louis means it in earnest, something to stop Lestat worrying, a way to ease the pain faster, a way to stop being such a burden though Lestat would never begrudge him that... but Lestat also can't deny how his mouth feels like it might be watering, how his fangs feel pushed up against his lips as he purses them slightly.
The laces undone, he busies himself lifting Louis' feet in turn so that he can remove each boot. He moves them aside, then slowly starts to rise. On the way up Louis' body, he passes the cloying scent of their mingled blood and feels an unmistakable throb of hunger somewhere deep in his chest. ]
So considerate, my heart, even when you are the one suffering the most. Can't you ever indulge and be a little selfish?
[ He teases with the smallest little twist of the corner of his mouth. He appreciates the offer more than he'll say - he doesn't like the idea of the bottles, still, nor does he trust the blood in them but... taking it after it's touched Louis' veins and become a part of him is something he hasn't considered until now. It could work. It could work all too well, in fact. It could become addictive like that, even though it isn't proper feeding and never will be, it will sustain Louis enough to make repeated feeding possible and... Oh, the possibilities.
Lestat's hands have been moving somewhat in autopilot, and he comes back to himself to find that his deft fingers are already working at the cold metal fastenings of Louis' jeans, the last item of clothing on him. ]
no subject
The laces undone, he busies himself lifting Louis' feet in turn so that he can remove each boot. He moves them aside, then slowly starts to rise. On the way up Louis' body, he passes the cloying scent of their mingled blood and feels an unmistakable throb of hunger somewhere deep in his chest. ]
So considerate, my heart, even when you are the one suffering the most. Can't you ever indulge and be a little selfish?
[ He teases with the smallest little twist of the corner of his mouth. He appreciates the offer more than he'll say - he doesn't like the idea of the bottles, still, nor does he trust the blood in them but... taking it after it's touched Louis' veins and become a part of him is something he hasn't considered until now. It could work. It could work all too well, in fact. It could become addictive like that, even though it isn't proper feeding and never will be, it will sustain Louis enough to make repeated feeding possible and... Oh, the possibilities.
Lestat's hands have been moving somewhat in autopilot, and he comes back to himself to find that his deft fingers are already working at the cold metal fastenings of Louis' jeans, the last item of clothing on him. ]