deathoftheauthor | the city

( Louis makes a quiet sound, a little hum that says he's taking something Lestat said more seriously than perhaps Lestat would like him to. )

I met a gentleman who told me he tried to attack you. Is that true?

[ Lestat takes a moment of pause, seriously considering an attempt at derailment - Would you like full length drapes, Louis? They have a lovely dark green set here with golden fringing... but ultimately knowing Louis is very unlikely to let it drop. ]

... Yes. He would have shot me if he had his gun.

Lestat...!

( A helpless little exclamation of concern. He's glad Lestat's being honest enough to admit it, and a gun wouldn't do any lasting damage to him, but the thought still makes Louis' stomach drop. )

Well, thank goodness he didn't. He knew my name, and when he told me the reason, I knew that he must have made quite an impression on you...

[ He'd been expecting that, but the way it makes his heart flip to hear such obvious concern wasn't something he'd been expecting, so he can't help the telltale sound of a smile in his voice when he replies. ]

Louis, don't worry. I told you I wouldn't get into anything I couldn't handle. But yes, he has made a lingering impression on me. He's quite the tortured soul, very complicated, but full of an earnestness you rarely see in modern men. I assume, because he's not a modern man. He didn't know what a rock star was.

[ A little laugh, but one that sounds oddly strained. The longer he speaks, the more troubled he sounds, until it's obvious that the dam has broken because he's just blabbering. ]

He thought I'd been sent here by some unknown master vampire when he saw my username. I had to convince him it was the name of my band and nothing more. He's been tricked by a friendly face before, but I couldn't let him think I was trying to harm him. I don't know if what I did was the best idea - lying to him like that, pretending to be a stupid mortal dressing up in costumes, reassuring him that I am nothing to worry about when it couldn't be further from the truth - but it's what I did regardless.

Oh, Lestat...

( Louis sits with a heavy, sympathetic sigh. He feels a twinge of something beneath his concern, an uncomfortable identification with those qualities Lestat is describing so fondly. But there isn't any time to dwell on that, not when Lestat sounds so sincerely distressed. Louis wishes he were there so he could embrace him, but perhaps Lestat wouldn't be able to say all of this if he had to look Louis in the eye. )

I want to tell you what a reckless fool you've been, of course, but how could you have known? Especially if you still believed you were alone.

[ The sound of Lestat drumming his nails on whatever hard surface he's currently near, even as Louis talks, like his body is trying to expel energy without knowing how.

Louis' sympathy is surprisingly soothing, and not for the first time Lestat marvels at his natural instinct to keep things so close to his chest when this kind of comfort is so readily available to him. He'd been so desperate to seem strong around Louis once, enough apparently to starve himself of the affection he craved. ]

... I miss you already, how can that be.

[ His voice is quiet, so quiet, he doesn't even know if the phone will pick him up, but he can't bottle how badly he wants to feel Louis' hands carding through his hair, even if there are no more sympathetic words to be said, even if it's just the silence of quiet consolation. ]

You would be right to call me a fool. [ His voice is at it's normal volume again, and he permeates it with a heavy sigh. ] But no matter. I'll deal with the consequences.

[ Then, another sudden pause as if a thought has struck him suddenly. ]

You know his face, yes? Keep alert when you are not with me. I would like to think he wouldn't, but I fear I might have gone against your wishes and brought danger to your doorstep again.

I'm not afraid. I've learned to look after myself.

( But he says it so gently, forgiving Lestat for everything without even needing to say so. )

Where are you, mon ami? I've seen enough seeds for one night.

[ Lestat loves to hear that he's not afraid, knows full well that he can give as good as he gets, that Ethan is only a mortal when the cards are drawn and Louis has vampiric strength even if it's weakened like they all are in this place... and yet still - impossibly, selfishly, full of guilt - he worries.

When Louis asks his location, he is genuinely surprised for all of a second before eagerness kicks in and all he wants is for Louis to find him, here, now. ]

... The furniture showroom in the mall. I can come to the exit.

The mall?

( Now he's concerned again, and if Lestat is listening closely, he can hear Louis' steps pick up speed. He's heard that it's safe now, but he hasn't been back himself to confirm that it's true, nor has he thought to warn Lestat away. )

I'm on my way. I'll be just a few minutes. But you're all right?

[ Lestat is about to ask what on earth would make him have any need to be concerned about Lestat's wellbeing in a silent place like this, but Louis' hasty repetition of his current whereabouts jogs his memory enough that facts slide into place. Ah, and he'd never told Louis he'd met with that young woman who'd accompanied him, had he? ]

Louis, I'm perfectly fine. There's nothing to worry about here now. It's just another lifeless building.

[ Nevertheless, he does start for the exit, abandoning the few items he's picked out for one he wants in an entirely different way. ]

So you've heard what happened?

I met your companion from that time...

[ He's not going to say he laughed because that feels strangely insensitive now, with all this tender concern in Louis' voice. ]

The young woman with the dark hair and those intense eyes. She told me what happened to you.

I see.

( His voice is tense, clipped; it feels like bad luck to speak of it before he can see Lestat with his own eyes. )

I didn't wish to worry you. I was never in any real danger. It was just... so terribly vivid. This place has a way of preying on our fears, and I'm sorry to say that it got the better of me.

Mon cher.. Don't sound so apologetic. Is it strange to say I am touched you were thinking of me enough to be so tormented by the sight of me? Hmm, well..

[ He can't imagine how he himself might have reacted if he'd been tortured in a similar way - who might have manifested before him? How might he have reacted to seeing Louis crumble in his arms?.... His own death seems so trivial after surviving it twice, but it makes sense that Louis wouldn't have seen the amusement in it after three months alone. ]

I'm sorry you had to see that sight again.

( Lestat's response soothes Louis slightly, but the curse of flawless memory is that he can see the vision in his mind's eye just as clearly as he can imagine Lestat's smiling face waiting for him. )

But it wasn't a memory. I...

( Is it Louis' turn to be tight-lipped about his fears? So it would seem. )

... It doesn't matter. I'm nearly there. I'll see you soon.

[ He wants to bite back, he feels the rush of it crawling up his throat; of course it matters, he only heard what had happened through Miu's vision, but it's so different for them, there's so much more detail to their sight, so much more intricate memory, so of course it matters--- ]

Soon, yes.

[ But he doesn't. For now, at least. Instead, he exits the furniture showroom and begins to look around for the sign of Louis' approach, listening for the sound of his slow pulse, the clip of his shoes on the tile. ]

( The mall looks completely different lit up like this, so safe and inviting and bland that Louis feels ridiculous when he wants to run to Lestat the moment he's within his sights. He's two hundred years old, he should be over the jitters...

So instead he sends Lestat the briefest of waves from down the huge, empty corridor. )

[ Lestat can feel something tumultuous in his chest, and its origin is entirely unclear, which is more maddening than anything.

His face eases the torment, and if Louis won't run to him then Lestat will simply have to do it for him. With quicker than natural steps, he's a step away from Louis in a matter of moments, and then their bodies are together, Lestat's arms locking Louis' in place where they squeeze around his ribs.

The contact is a balm, and when he pulls back it's with a smile. ]

See, not a hair out of place.

Yes... just how I left you.

( Louis lets out a long, unsteady breath, his forehead dropping to Lestat's shoulder. He can feel his pulse against his temple, and he remembers that horrible vision of draining Lestat to a husk, and he's so relieved when the thirst doesn't rise up to swallow them both. He settles his hands at Lestat's waist, thumbs slipping possessively through his belt loops. )

... Would you like to show me our new couch?

In a moment.

[ He can't break this contact now, can't even think about pretending nothing is wrong without just a little more of this silent comfort seeking, from both of them it would seem. Louis isn't trembling in his hold, but Lestat can tell he needs this. Lestat doesn't mind. He feels he needs it too.

He wishes - yet again - that he could slip into Louis' mind to know what he's thinking without having to make him say it. He'll have to settle hoping Louis will forgive him this torture. ]

... Are you alright?

( Louis nods, then pulls back by a bare few inches, looking Lestat in the eyes and nodding once more. It's a bit firmer this time, an attempt to convince himself as much as to convince Lestat.

He can understand Lestat's past reticence a little better in this moment, when revealing something so personal seems nearly impossible, no matter how his soul aches to be soothed and understood. Louis had always yearned for Lestat to be honest with him, to share even the smallest truths about himself... so why is he so afraid that Lestat will think his troubles are a burden now? )

I'm sorry. I don't know what's come over me.

( But that's a lie, and he looks remorseful as soon as the words leave his mouth. He stiffens, then admits, quietly: )

It began just like this. I ran to you, and the two of us embraced, and...

That's how it happened. You told me to drink, and I did, and I didn't stop until it was too late. You were gone, and I'd done it to you. I know how absurd that must sound, like a child frightened of a monster beneath his bed — I don't think such a thing is even possible for us —

( And he feels defensive suddenly, his shoulders lifting in plain discomfort. )

But I experienced it nevertheless.

[ While Louis speaks, he listens attentively; the last time he heard of Louis facing such torment was reading it from the pages of a book, unless his confession about the night of the concert counts, so he owes him at least this quiet respect for such a vulnerability.

One of his hands ends up in Louis' hair without much thought to it, pushing the dark strands back from his face, fingertips raking lightly against his scalp in what he can only hope is a soothing manner. ]

She didn't tell me how it happened...

[ His voice is a little quiet and completely contrasts the volume of his thoughts - had that been why Louis was so reluctant in their apartment before? Had it been the memory of him drained dry, the thought that he might not be able to stop? He hadn't known, and he'd felt so bitter... ]

I thought you'd had a vision of... Oh, Louis. [ He tips his chin to press a closed mouthed kiss to Louis' forehead. ] What a torture that must have been, in more ways than one.

( The kiss is so tender that Louis thinks he might actually weep, and he's ashamed of himself for thinking that Lestat would treat him any other way. How often had he imagined Lestat's voice berating him when he was only ever hearing himself? Could he have had this all those years ago, if he'd just known how to ask for it? )

It was!

( Louis agrees more plaintively than he means to, and he's surprised by the volume of his own voice. He nuzzles his forehead against Lestat's chin, catlike in his affection. )

I missed you more than I can possibly say. It must have made my thoughts fertile ground for whatever that was. And I never did learn to shield my mind, not the way you or Armand can...

[ Lestat feels a blush of warmth somewhere deep in his heart at the admission that Louis missed him; even though he knows it's true, even though he has more than enough evidence for it, he still feels a strange kind of rush to hear it from his mouth. It should make him feel guilt for enjoying this moment when Louis is clearly so troubled, but it doesn't. ]

I don't think it would matter much here, Louis. Even if you were capable of keeping yourself closed off, this place is clearly more powerful than anything we've encountered before if it can suffocate our abilities.

[ His fingers toy idly with a soft wave of dark hair somewhere behind Louis' ear. ]

I know that isn't a comfort, that at any time we can be taken advantage of, but... At least now we are together. If anything were to happen again, such visions would be easier to banish for the truth.

( Louis tips his head toward Lestat's hand, chasing that gentle reassurance, amazed by how easily and swiftly he's soothed by those long, clever fingers in his hair. It doesn't matter that they're so far from home there may not even be a way to measure the distance — Lestat is right. They are together. )

Thank you, Lestat.

( He curls his fingers around Lestat's wrist and presses a kiss just below the cuff of his sleeve. )

It's terribly selfish of me to be glad that you're here, but I am.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject