deathoftheauthor: (/06)
ʟᴏᴜɪs ᴅᴇ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛᴇ ᴅᴜ ʟᴀᴄ ([personal profile] deathoftheauthor) wrote 2023-11-12 05:11 pm (UTC)

( Louis flushes faintly, hanging on each word of praise, his heartbeat quickening. It's intoxicating to hear Lestat say things like this, to think that he's captivated by Louis' mind; Louis always feels so ordinary compared to Lestat, to Armand, to the ancient ones that had come together in their time of crisis. Too often, he had been desired only for qualities he didn't value in himself. His beauty, his ability to suffer — were these the only things worth loving about him?

His throat tightens. Lestat had always mocked his introspective nature in the old days... to hear that he actually values it, thinks it's a strength... it's almost too much to bear.
)

Thank you, Lestat.

( Louis whispers the words, and two red teardrops well up in the corners of his eyes. He blinks, his vision pinkening as the droplets stick to his lashes. )

But, you know... if it were you in my place... I believe you would come back to me.

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