( Louis bundles up in the blankets, relaxing into the nest of bedding that Lestat has arranged so considerately for him. It's a mild relief to have some of his modesty back, if only because he's so used to it, but the thought of cuddling up to Lestat like this beneath the comforters sends a warmth through him that has nothing at all to do with the electric blanket.

When Lestat grimaces, Louis takes his hand and squeezes it. Louis assumes it's just the talk of bottled blood that's troubling him; he would be astonished to learn that Lestat considered it at all. He wants to protest, but he knows that Lestat must feel at a loss for how to help, and so he agrees as much for Lestat's sake as for his own. )

All right. Thank you, Lestat.

( A soft, grateful smile. He brings Lestat's hand to his lips, kissing the back. )

You need to feed, too. You gave me so much. I know you can't stand the bottles, but I can. Will you let me do that for you?