Though it's inevitable that they'll drift back at some point, Daniel's eyes have settled to green, for now, like Louis and his feelings for him have taken hold over the bloodline that makes them twist yellow-orange. Not the clear tinted water of his mortal life, but sea glass now, dense and unearthly. Perhaps a downgrade, but he'll take it, an easy swap for kicking Parkinson's.

(Still. Over him, like a shroud. Armand, Armand, Armand.)

"I remember we were talking. About getting out of the penthouse, the tower, just doing something. It felt like... kids sneaking out past curfew."

Even though it wasn't going to happen, and maybe Daniel knew that even then. Intuition telling him that the next time he saw Louis, he'd be placid again, having shaken off his restlessness and be ready to gently decline. Now he knows getting out just for the fuck of it would have been the thing Louis wanted most.

"And then you came over to me. And I couldn't really believe it, but I just. Wanted you too much to argue about it, even if you were fucking with me. Even though I couldn't do anything but that."