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Summary
“I asked him to just let me die. In the butcher shop.” Louis meets Lestat’s gaze. He feels his New Orleans accent, which has been reasserting itself more and more since leaving Armand those years ago, thicken as his mouth gets drier. “I know you…you buried yourself for a long while after Nicholas. And after…Gabriella.” He winces at bringing the name into it, but Lestat just steadily holds his eyes. “Did you…want to die? Then or ever?”
Louis and Lestat have conversations. They also begin slowly, surely, clumsily to rebuild a life together.
Do not post my work elsewhere. I will be very cross, and you will be a bad person.
