Where Daniel moves onwards to anger, Louis is still mired in the memory as it comes to him in parts and pieces, starts and stops. Out of order. Flashes of Daniel's face tipped up to him, Daniel's hand setting down the aluminum can on the table, Daniel asking him if he felt real.

Daniel kissing him, and kissing him, and kissing him.

And then Armand.

Armand with his hand in Daniel's hair.

Armand holding Louis' gaze as his own flared bright as Louis asks quietly, steady in spite of the look on Armand's face, Don't hurt him, Armand, and Armand touched his cheek, claws pricking skin, as Armand told Louis, Rest, Louis.

Here and now, Daniel is touching him. The only thing anchoring him to his body.

"He didn't leave me anything."

So he remembers it now. Daniel brings the memory back to him, just as he'd done before.

"But I..." a trailing pause. "I have some of it now."

And then, "He wasn't there, at first. He was in our bed."

Until he wasn't. Until he was touching Daniel, his fingers at Louis' jaw drawing him up and out of their kiss.