This expression is studied intently in the split seconds Armand has to view it, and it evokes a rare kind of smile out of him by the time their mouths are pressed together. Keeps one of Daniel's hands while the other wraps around the back of his neck, enjoying the difference of position, the way gravity isn't bearing him down against his fledgling, who comes to him so willingly. Eagerly.

He had told Daniel that he often thinks about the fact that vampires should not exist. That he should not. The logical conclusion that he had drawn Daniel into the perversion of nature that is them. Punishment, anger, revulsion. A lot of complexity, philosophising, for something as simple as wishing he could cease to be, with only a duty towards persisting keeping him tethered.

Daniel as tether. As companion. (And there is a lurking essay about how Armand hated that notion, too, of a vampire forcing someone into this world just to make it more bearable for themselves, and on and on—)

He gets a hand under Daniel's chin and pushes it aside so he can kiss down his throat. Warming back up.