That is probably for the best, given how we can't trust our expectations.
[ Lestat knows all too well what healing from a fatal wound feels like, but reminding Louis of that now feels cruel.
After turning off the water, Lestat takes Louis by the hands and guides him out of the tub. Like this, not pressed up against one another and without the tender touches of before, Lestat feels a strange charged quality to the air; it isn't expectation or even unbearable desire — though his mind is plenty distracted by the sight of Louis soft lips against his wrist, and the idea he'd had previously of pressing Louis into the blankets of their safe little sleeping space and kissing him until dawn — it's more a bone-deep need to protect and to covet something precious to him that he got closer than he realised to losing.
If Lestat hadn't bled for him, would he have stayed awake? If Lestat hadn't been there, would he have survived?
Lestat tightens his grip a little, just for a moment, before he snatches up a previously unused towel and begins to drape it slowly across Louis' skin; the benefit of being vampires is that water sort of runs off their bodies, meaning that really he only needs to dry their hair, which he starts to do next. Then, after wrapping the towel around Louis' waist and grabbing one for his own, he guides them back out into the living room.
Thankfully, there are no actual doors on the way to their closet aside from the closet door itself, and once there Lestat takes the initiative to open it and step through first, with Louis in tow behind him, and finds their makeshift bed untouched and just how they left it through the doorway. ]
no subject
[ Lestat knows all too well what healing from a fatal wound feels like, but reminding Louis of that now feels cruel.
After turning off the water, Lestat takes Louis by the hands and guides him out of the tub. Like this, not pressed up against one another and without the tender touches of before, Lestat feels a strange charged quality to the air; it isn't expectation or even unbearable desire — though his mind is plenty distracted by the sight of Louis soft lips against his wrist, and the idea he'd had previously of pressing Louis into the blankets of their safe little sleeping space and kissing him until dawn — it's more a bone-deep need to protect and to covet something precious to him that he got closer than he realised to losing.
If Lestat hadn't bled for him, would he have stayed awake? If Lestat hadn't been there, would he have survived?
Lestat tightens his grip a little, just for a moment, before he snatches up a previously unused towel and begins to drape it slowly across Louis' skin; the benefit of being vampires is that water sort of runs off their bodies, meaning that really he only needs to dry their hair, which he starts to do next. Then, after wrapping the towel around Louis' waist and grabbing one for his own, he guides them back out into the living room.
Thankfully, there are no actual doors on the way to their closet aside from the closet door itself, and once there Lestat takes the initiative to open it and step through first, with Louis in tow behind him, and finds their makeshift bed untouched and just how they left it through the doorway. ]
Do you need anything, my heart?