He saw it, the moment Daniel teetered past conscious choice. His fangs sink into Louis' wrist, fingers gripping Louis' bare forearm for purchase, and Louis can turn his hand only so much, just enough to touch the side of Daniel's face. Encouraging.
Louis feels Daniel. (Had Lestat felt Louis like this?) Louis is not Daniel's maker. The Gift has been given, and Louis is granting him nothing but nourishment after the fact. It's painful. But Daniel is drinking, is taking what he needs, and Louis will survive it. That is more important than anything else in this moment.
The connection it forges between them—
Louis' eyes are wet again. His freed hand hooks into the blood-sodden front of Daniel's shirt, reeling him closer so Louis might hold onto him. Murmur encouragement. Lays his hand at Daniel's nape, give over to the depth of connection between them.
There is the instinct to give everything, and then some. Let Daniel drain him to dregs and filter the remainder of Armand's offerings through his body once more. Take it all. Anything. Everything. It's what Louis owes him, wants still to give him.
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Louis feels Daniel. (Had Lestat felt Louis like this?) Louis is not Daniel's maker. The Gift has been given, and Louis is granting him nothing but nourishment after the fact. It's painful. But Daniel is drinking, is taking what he needs, and Louis will survive it. That is more important than anything else in this moment.
The connection it forges between them—
Louis' eyes are wet again. His freed hand hooks into the blood-sodden front of Daniel's shirt, reeling him closer so Louis might hold onto him. Murmur encouragement. Lays his hand at Daniel's nape, give over to the depth of connection between them.
There is the instinct to give everything, and then some. Let Daniel drain him to dregs and filter the remainder of Armand's offerings through his body once more. Take it all. Anything. Everything. It's what Louis owes him, wants still to give him.