[ Lestat's eyebrows pinch ever so slightly as a wave of emotion washes over him; his heart aches with love for Louis, with concern for him, and with a complicated kind of thrill at Louis using the word 'obey', and a flood of shame to follow it. ]

It does.

[ The idea that their souls can speak to one another in this way, without any influence from the mind gift or their vampiric powers has been something Lestat has entertained before, though never with any serious weight to it. He'd thought as much when he'd left the safehouse the night before the concert and had wandered into the dusk to meet that presence, and hadn't felt an ounce of fear despite not truly knowing who might be waiting for him. Some part of him had known, though, deep down. Impossible, yes, but equally impossible to deny. ]

But that doesn't detract from your strength, Louis. To know your own mind this intricately is a strength in and of itself. I have always marvelled at the way you see things and the way you understand them. It's driven me mad, yes, but I can't deny how captivating it is either. A weaker soul might have wanted desperately to follow a voice trying to bring them back, but been too weak to pull through.

[ He pushes into that hand on his chest, shifting ever so slightly closer; he brings a leg up to lock around the one Louis has between his calves. He kisses him — once, then twice, then again on the angle of his jaw. ]

I'm not sure I would have been able to do what you did.