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Summary
Daniel sighs, puts his mental notebook away, and resigns himself to another lonely evening. “No offense, but you know I’m not interested.”
Lestat smirks, doesn’t move. “I know you don’t care about having me. I also know who you do want.” His mouth twitches, and something changes in his posture; it’s a hundred tiny adjustments, the slightest straightening of his spine, an infinitesimal drop of his shoulders. He crosses his ankles and arches a brow. “Isn’t that right, Daniel.”
Of course, before he was a pianist or a rockstar or the subject of a documentary, Lestat had been a virtuosic actor. There’s no one thing Daniel could point to that’s distinctly Armand, and yet that’s who he’s seeing now, a vision of cool goldenrod eyes fixed on him, a dark halo of curls. It’s not how Louis had described his hallucinations; he knows he’s looking at Lestat, he can see Lestat, but here in front of him is Armand.
A sound that’s not quite a gulp, not quite a whine escapes him. “I-“
“Daniel.” Uncannily steady, Lestat’s voice, now. Cool, and smooth, oilcloth and silk.
Daniel shudders and fails to hide it. “That’s me.”
Series
- Part 2 of mori’s post-TVL-ep fics