Gently, but firmly, Daniel withdraws his hand and reasserts his personal space. Hurts a little, for a lot of reasons. In a way he feels too young— easily bruised, the delirious high of a renewed existence sending him stumbling around like a kid again. But in this, he's very much leaning on old man instincts. He's very aware of what it feels like to not be a priority, and as much as he cares for Louis (wouldn't have done what he did if not), he just doesn't want to fall down a fucking hole.

"Don't do that," he says, sounding tired. Not unkind, but still. Gentle but firm to match the retrieval of his hand. "I don't blame you, it's not like that. But you did leave me with him. Those two things co-exist. So I can't— just, none of that. The what you wanted stuff."

It isn't true, and if it is, Daniel would almost find it worse. Louis what, wanted to make him a wrinkly old man vampire? How fucking ridiculous. Daniel is happier like this already, but it's definitely not ideal. The alternatives are all just even less ideal. At least in this reality, he gets superpowers and he doesn't hurt anymore.

"Besides, you might decide you're angry with me, when I tell you why I'm still London."