Daniel's attention flicks back, his amber-yellow eyes glinting for a split second past the tinted glass of his lenses. Wonders— is that true? Is it all for show, or does Louis really not care anymore? Or maybe it isn't a lack of care, but a lack of direction. If he were in the other man's position, he'd be tying himself in knots over the difference between his own desires and shit potentially constructed by someone else. By someone else, who constructed something in Daniel.

Does Armand know they're together? Does he still look through Louis' head like a psychic surveillance camera? Or has he fucked off entirely without so much as a thought for what's behind him?

Doesn't matter, does it.

"If you're that scared of vampires," he says for the benefit of these humans (so distant from him, and they would be even if he were still mortal, because they're young people working at a secret agency, what the fuck is that), "this is probably the wrong job."

The drive is extracted. Daniel pries it loose with pointed fingernails, and has to settle with hoping this is what he's after. He's not a fucking hacker.