Daniel's voice, the things it says to him, the specific swift unfiltered away words emerge cloaked in it, feels as textural and real as his hand sweeping down over his shoulders. Warm as the skin under Armand's mouth. He finds himself greedy for it.

So he asks, "Did you think of me like this," after his teeth leave blunt little marks in Daniel's shoulder, "before you knew what I was? Or only after?"

However Daniel might interpret that. Before he knew Rashid was Armand. Before he knew Armand was a monster, specific to him, specific to Louis. Before Armand was his maker.

Perhaps there was nothing, and it was Armand alone with his fascinations. That would be fine too.

Moving them, meanwhile. Urging Daniel backwards by invading his space, a hand catching the side of his knee.