[ Lestat almost feels his resolve slip in that kiss. Oh, having Louis be the one to tempt him and distract him is a novelty he doesn't think he'll ever get tired of, and he only hopes that the future brings them both many more opportunities to lure the other out of what should be done and further into the realm of want and need. Preferably with less bodily harm, though.

When Louis takes his wrist Lestat shows it to him with no resistance. The bite is healed, certainly, but there is a pinkness to the skin and a slight glossy texture that betrays the wound, the healing still not entirely complete. It's strange to see himself like this, marked in this way... and yet strangely exciting. An image flashes in his mind of his fangs twanging at his veins, the flesh pulping beneath his teeth, bruising. Could a mark be left on him now, here in this strange place? ]

It's slow. We are weaker here, it makes sense that the effects of the blood are weak, too.

[ He doesn't sound too concerned, distracted with his own thoughts as he is, but his eyes drop to Louis' wound and his eyebrows pull together a little. What he knows about their recovery time is warped now, and he wonders if he's made a mistake making Louis stand for so long. ]

Let me help you out. We shouldn't make any assumptions until we see you start to heal properly.