In truth he didn't find the comment offensive, even if he dissected the intended meaning and settled on insult being a high contender. Even as an insult it's rather refreshing in a fucked up, masochistic sort of way. No kid gloves, none of Louis' coddling modern Catholic guilt mournfulness then turned knife sharp and vicious under the right influence. Almost funny, especially given he finds and watches the movie that night.
Not that he'll admit it, yet. No, that throw away line isn't what captures his attention anyway. The last line he's fixated on to an absurd and likely pointless degree. It's why he's here now, in a way, regarding Daniel with a tilt of the head and, for once, all eyes averted from them by force. No quirky little mental comments about their age, their behavior, just them ignored in a bustling little book shop.
It's easier to imagine it all as a game, watching Daniel approach, the pause as he registers Armand at all. A game until Daniel comes over and kisses the top of his head in way that leaves Armand speechless for a moment. Casual, natural affection that is surely mockery, followed by no mockery at all. It makes Armand want to pin him to the table and drain him again only to feed him everything Armand is right back. It makes him want to make Daniel crawl for his blood, the red line of it between them like an unbreakable, blasphemous connection.
He stares up at Daniel with big, wide eyes for a stunned moment, even if the thrum of their bond could only be called ravenously possessive. "You were nearly late. Half the staff believe your insistence on night signings is absurd pageantry."
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Not that he'll admit it, yet. No, that throw away line isn't what captures his attention anyway. The last line he's fixated on to an absurd and likely pointless degree. It's why he's here now, in a way, regarding Daniel with a tilt of the head and, for once, all eyes averted from them by force. No quirky little mental comments about their age, their behavior, just them ignored in a bustling little book shop.
It's easier to imagine it all as a game, watching Daniel approach, the pause as he registers Armand at all. A game until Daniel comes over and kisses the top of his head in way that leaves Armand speechless for a moment. Casual, natural affection that is surely mockery, followed by no mockery at all. It makes Armand want to pin him to the table and drain him again only to feed him everything Armand is right back. It makes him want to make Daniel crawl for his blood, the red line of it between them like an unbreakable, blasphemous connection.
He stares up at Daniel with big, wide eyes for a stunned moment, even if the thrum of their bond could only be called ravenously possessive. "You were nearly late. Half the staff believe your insistence on night signings is absurd pageantry."