Author's aside, Armand could stand to feel a little less self-satisfied in response to this assertion. Has no right to the twinge of smugness he knows in belated reflex to Louis' plans and intentions to acquire this fledgling for himself, and even less right to the rattlesnake coil of possessiveness, even more belated, for the kill that he had claimed for himself in 1973, and was denied. He does not actually want Daniel dead fifty years ago, but all the same, an itch scratched.

Daniel's hand at his face. Being admired, being wanted. His eyes don't go huge, as established, but gleam what may become a familiar shade of wanting amber. And so it all probably reads perfectly clear in Armand's expression, and made all the plainer when Armand settles in closer to nudge past Daniel's hand and kiss him again.

He could worry at it more. Would he have said 'no' to Louis? What would he have said, if Armand had allowed him the choice? Moot point, to use his parlance. And besides, it isn't as though Armand was fully conscious as to why he was doing any of it. He remembers, after, thinking of it like: it had given him something to do. A new, pleasing dimension to that turn of phrase, suddenly.

Telling on each other, maybe, when Armand's kiss insists itself a little more, warming up to it, and when the probability of him being thrown out of bed is low.