The look surprises Armand, shuts him up for a few precious moments as Daniel turns back to talk to another fan with another question, request, well of admiration. Background noise easily ignored, the now fairly steadfast thrum of wondering at Armand's age, their relation, self righteous judgment or what they see as a predatory dynamic for all the wrong reasons.
No, there's just Armand watching Daniel a moment longer. He expected rolled eyes or reminders Armand did not own him. Another little debate on old vampiric terminology, snide remarks that Armand didn't make him beyond a fucked up blood transfusion. Perhaps regret at the end, bitterness, his reputation being dragged through the dirt of assumption. Always something, he's found, that makes Armand unideal to claim publicly. His waning power as maitre, old laws, the color of his skin in Venice.
Daniel's face looked more at ease than Armand can remember seeing it, if only for a brief moment. It's pretty in a new facet of Daniel, the appeal of hard, sharp edges finally softening in stellar contrast. When Armand finally pulls his eyes away he realizes with twitch of his fingers his heart is threatening to pick up. How easy it is to fall in love with Daniel, a matter nipping at his ankles for some time, even if he's done a resoundingly good job in avoiding it. The first time in perhaps his entire existence he claimed someone and they looked upon him like that was a wondrous thing.
The vampire gets closer- older than Daniel but young, and Armand fixes his gaze upon her in unblinking severity. One hand stays behind Daniel's chair, nails at the back of his neck. A woman nearby wonders how much Daniel pays this kid, another wonders if bestsellers really give a guy that much game. The vampire bows her head in nervous respect to Armand before trying to avoid looking at him entirely. Thanks Daniel for the book in a way that sounds quite genuine. Says it was very informative and helpful. That he's brave to write it.
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No, there's just Armand watching Daniel a moment longer. He expected rolled eyes or reminders Armand did not own him. Another little debate on old vampiric terminology, snide remarks that Armand didn't make him beyond a fucked up blood transfusion. Perhaps regret at the end, bitterness, his reputation being dragged through the dirt of assumption. Always something, he's found, that makes Armand unideal to claim publicly. His waning power as maitre, old laws, the color of his skin in Venice.
Daniel's face looked more at ease than Armand can remember seeing it, if only for a brief moment. It's pretty in a new facet of Daniel, the appeal of hard, sharp edges finally softening in stellar contrast. When Armand finally pulls his eyes away he realizes with twitch of his fingers his heart is threatening to pick up. How easy it is to fall in love with Daniel, a matter nipping at his ankles for some time, even if he's done a resoundingly good job in avoiding it. The first time in perhaps his entire existence he claimed someone and they looked upon him like that was a wondrous thing.
The vampire gets closer- older than Daniel but young, and Armand fixes his gaze upon her in unblinking severity. One hand stays behind Daniel's chair, nails at the back of his neck. A woman nearby wonders how much Daniel pays this kid, another wonders if bestsellers really give a guy that much game. The vampire bows her head in nervous respect to Armand before trying to avoid looking at him entirely. Thanks Daniel for the book in a way that sounds quite genuine. Says it was very informative and helpful. That he's brave to write it.