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    Summary

    He was imagining waking up in the violinist's arms, sweat-drenched and shaking from his long, long nightmare, but safe, surrounded by warmth and pleasant smells. The violinist's grumpy mouth kissing his forehead, as the rising sun cast golden light across their modest bedding.

    Such tender, fragile delusions... A part of Magnus enjoyed shattering them in a way that felt surprisingly human. A different part of him though he ought to feel a modicum of pity for this beautiful creature's suffering, and yet neither his mortal body, nor his immortal one had ever been able to alchemise such complex emotion. Must a naturalist pity the butterfly he pins? But he did envy it, the colourful elegance preserved.

    or
    a look into Lestat's nights in the tower from Magnus's eyes.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
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    Chapters:
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