Daniel lets him feel: sure, he's satisfied, technically. But he could want more, right now. He could want to see Louis come again, evening the score. He could stay here all night with him, drag a blanket over their heads after, touch him languidly during the stay, and start again—
Which is a bit too much, probably? Daniel is always going to have this personality, though, more, and dying hasn't changed it. Just let him have it again. More, more, more. Drugs, sex, truth, blood.
But he'd also like to shower with Louis (he'll avert his eyes from the bathroom mirror, uncomfortable with his own deterioration vs the other man's physique, but he'll cope), and he'd like to vent the half-riled bloodlust onto someone he doesn't have to worry about stopping on. A headtilt for it, though. Louis doesn't like hunting. They don't have to.
no subject
Which is a bit too much, probably? Daniel is always going to have this personality, though, more, and dying hasn't changed it. Just let him have it again. More, more, more. Drugs, sex, truth, blood.
But he'd also like to shower with Louis (he'll avert his eyes from the bathroom mirror, uncomfortable with his own deterioration vs the other man's physique, but he'll cope), and he'd like to vent the half-riled bloodlust onto someone he doesn't have to worry about stopping on. A headtilt for it, though. Louis doesn't like hunting. They don't have to.
The coffin, though.
"I haven't."