Daniel has heard about the tricks of vampire 'gifts' (focus on the mind like a bodily sound, find the flaw in something to set aflame), and Daniel is pretty fucking quick, and Daniel is the only fledgling of a half-millennia old vampire. It's definitely an oops, stumbling into things and people and heads he's not meaning to, and the minute he notices he'll reel it in. Or try to.

(That'll be the thing, probably. Hunger he can cope with, to a degree, with his experience in the trenches of addiction. But the cascade of variables - power plus a potentially inherited knack plus curiosity plus his inherent journalistic aggression - will equal a harder impulse to control.)

If he gets an impression of Lestat as he looks back over at Louis, he doesn't realize what it is; doesn't even realize what he's doing. There are other people out at night, wandering in the late hours and scoping out scenery or heading towards early shifts at bakeries and so on— one of them is thinking loudly about a fight with her husband that turned violent, and Daniel flinches and looks over his shoulder, trying to sort out what jumped into his head.

"I, uh."

Christ. What the fuck. (Tired of thinking What the fuck.)

"You didn't keep that shitty apartment, did you?"