(Talamasca agents hedging their bets. Maybe a good idea not to be so near to Louis, when he receives this news. Consider, all that's been said about Louis' temper. Young vampires, erratic in their hurts and their angers, better observed from a distance.)
Almost as Daniel left him. Here is Louis with soft curls, eyes masked by dark mirrored glasses he is already removing, turning in his hands in a little tick of anxious movement. Now stowing them in a pocket of the oversized bomber jacket, cut from shining dark material. Rich, dark emerald green polo beneath it, textured knit evoking living things, greenery and life. Trousers belted at the waist. Polished leather loafers. An evolving wardrobe, expanding, experimenting.
A sign of the times.
Daniel's right. Louis knows, instantly. Maybe had already known before the door opened, catching Daniel's scent and finding it changed. Confirmation now, looking at him. At his eyes.
The vampire Daniel Molloy.
"Daniel," Louis says, split open under the blow of this revelation.
Finds his way to, "You haven't been answering my calls," as a statement of fact stripped of all attached emotion. Daniel is a vampire. Daniel is alive, not lying in a hospital (but maybe having chosen to cut ties with Louis anyway) or overwhelmed by his illness.
It doesn't matter what Louis feels in the moment. Here is Daniel, alive. Louis can take some relief in it even as his mind churns, surges ahead, circles the horrible inevitability of Who?
no subject
Alone.
(Talamasca agents hedging their bets. Maybe a good idea not to be so near to Louis, when he receives this news. Consider, all that's been said about Louis' temper. Young vampires, erratic in their hurts and their angers, better observed from a distance.)
Almost as Daniel left him. Here is Louis with soft curls, eyes masked by dark mirrored glasses he is already removing, turning in his hands in a little tick of anxious movement. Now stowing them in a pocket of the oversized bomber jacket, cut from shining dark material. Rich, dark emerald green polo beneath it, textured knit evoking living things, greenery and life. Trousers belted at the waist. Polished leather loafers. An evolving wardrobe, expanding, experimenting.
A sign of the times.
Daniel's right. Louis knows, instantly. Maybe had already known before the door opened, catching Daniel's scent and finding it changed. Confirmation now, looking at him. At his eyes.
The vampire Daniel Molloy.
"Daniel," Louis says, split open under the blow of this revelation.
Finds his way to, "You haven't been answering my calls," as a statement of fact stripped of all attached emotion. Daniel is a vampire. Daniel is alive, not lying in a hospital (but maybe having chosen to cut ties with Louis anyway) or overwhelmed by his illness.
It doesn't matter what Louis feels in the moment. Here is Daniel, alive. Louis can take some relief in it even as his mind churns, surges ahead, circles the horrible inevitability of Who?