It takes more self restraint than Armand would care to admit not to scare the little vampire off. To say he's been territorial is an understatement but now, in the throes of this warm and undeniable feeling of intimacy with Daniel, he may be just a little worse than before. If it wasn't for the distracting, pleasant buzz of Daniel through their bond he might have lost the war with his own possessive instincts.
Luckily for the well meaning fledgling she gets the time to chat and make this connection while Armand basks in Daniel's contentment. Maybe it's primal instinct, the sheer satisfaction he feels at his fledgling happy and safe. Maybe it's refreshing after decades of Louis' consistent melancholy, bright moments always slow and pierced with a dark undercurrent. Not Daniel, whose joy is as addictive as his regard. As addictive as his anger, is self righteous fury, the sparring across long tables with an insignificant little mortal who still kept up better than any vampire ever did.
If he's honest the process of all this intrigues him too, the book signing. For all his tall talk of mortals and separation Armand's curiosity with the world has never fully wavered, the mechanics of publishing and promoting almost quaint compared to the ruthless art markets Louis pulled them through. Armand's side of the bond when examined is typically guarded, and if not that then a low thrumming tension careful vigilance. Yet in the sphere of Daniel's contented presence he thaws a little, curiosity blooming like weeds. Not calm, not safe but closer to both than he's managed in some time.
One bold young man asks who he is, and when Armand answers as Daniel did the boy laughs. "Wow, you do look like how I imagined him. Love the contacts, by the way."
Armand watches the boy go, resisting the impish urge to bear his fangs and see how far mortal denial takes them. There aren't many left in the line regardless, and he has a prize to cash in. "Your descriptions did me justice, or so it seems." He says as if he didn't read every single scrap Daniel wrote about him obsessively while also making notes in the margins.
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Luckily for the well meaning fledgling she gets the time to chat and make this connection while Armand basks in Daniel's contentment. Maybe it's primal instinct, the sheer satisfaction he feels at his fledgling happy and safe. Maybe it's refreshing after decades of Louis' consistent melancholy, bright moments always slow and pierced with a dark undercurrent. Not Daniel, whose joy is as addictive as his regard. As addictive as his anger, is self righteous fury, the sparring across long tables with an insignificant little mortal who still kept up better than any vampire ever did.
If he's honest the process of all this intrigues him too, the book signing. For all his tall talk of mortals and separation Armand's curiosity with the world has never fully wavered, the mechanics of publishing and promoting almost quaint compared to the ruthless art markets Louis pulled them through. Armand's side of the bond when examined is typically guarded, and if not that then a low thrumming tension careful vigilance. Yet in the sphere of Daniel's contented presence he thaws a little, curiosity blooming like weeds. Not calm, not safe but closer to both than he's managed in some time.
One bold young man asks who he is, and when Armand answers as Daniel did the boy laughs. "Wow, you do look like how I imagined him. Love the contacts, by the way."
Armand watches the boy go, resisting the impish urge to bear his fangs and see how far mortal denial takes them. There aren't many left in the line regardless, and he has a prize to cash in. "Your descriptions did me justice, or so it seems." He says as if he didn't read every single scrap Daniel wrote about him obsessively while also making notes in the margins.