The buzz of Daniel's thoughts is a palpable thing. Stronger for proximity, maybe, or because Louis is so attuned to Daniel in this moment. (Every moment, every moment in which they inhabit the same space, since the interview.) Louis keeps the detail and shape of those thoughts carefully out of focus, the slow sweep of his palm a firm pressure circling from the nape of Daniel's neck and down to the small of his back, over and over. Maintaining steadily; Daniel hasn't pulled away, hasn't stabilized either, and so Louis continues.
A moment of quiet in the wake of the question. Not withholding, not really, only parsing out his answer. Trying to pin down a thing he's scarcely given thought to himself.
"I'll tell you," he acquiesces, between he sweeps of his hand, observing Daniel's face in profile. "After I remind you that you haven't interrupted anything."
Insistent on this point, unwilling to let even this glancing comment stand. Continuing on, without leaving Daniel the space for an objection.
"I went to New Orleans," softly, a murmur into the space between them. "I wanted to go home."
Home. Louis' voice softening further over this word. New Orleans. Lestat. The two mingle, intertwine.
Maybe his instinct to push outward, away from himself, ask questions is a bad one. But Louis wants Daniel to use him as an anchor, and so, that's what he's doing. Trying to listen, trying to make his pulse calm down.
He thinks—
Of how fucking happy he is, genuinely. It floods him like the release of a painfully held breath. Louis got out of Dubai and found Lestat, for better or worse. Daniel didn't pull pack the curtain on something that couldn't be given closure. He doesn't pretend to know what that feels like - his relationships have deteriorated for far more mundane reasons. No pining involved. (Alice, a little. But does he miss her, or his fucking youth?)
A little miserable flex of a smile, acknowledging the inherent complexity of the question. In this moment? Louis is being eaten alive by his regrets and misery. But Daniel is asking about more than the immediate moment.
His fingers scrape lightly at the nape of Daniel's neck. Palm sweeps back down his back once more. Back up again. Steady, continuous contact.
"We forgave each other," Louis says slowly, feeling his way through the answer. "I'm glad for it."
Fumbling towards an answer to the actual question.
"I feel lighter," makes him feel guilty too. "It was good to see him."
After so many years. After so much misunderstanding, so many lies.
Daniel squeezes his hand. Hopes Louis can feel how pleased he is about it, even if it's bittersweet.
"I'm glad about it, too. I am, Louis. You deserve to feel lighter about fucking something."
A dry laugh—
"Armand made it clear I ruined his fucking life."
It wasn't a major, active worry, that he had also ruined Louis' - somewhat preoccupied at the time, given the abduction - but it was there. He feels the resurgence of that worry now, and can let it go. Feels fucking great, actually, to be able to let something go, in this mood. He doesn't ask more, doesn't want to pry into things now when he's already driven a bulldozer through so much of Louis' privacy (invited, but still).
"I can tell he's still in Venice, by the way. Is that weird?"
Louis can feel it. Feels Daniel's relief, tinged with the overwhelming reality of what Daniel paid to see it done.
Says nothing, for a moment. Just touches him, because Daniel is permitting it, and because for the moment it seems to be helping. Squeezes his hand back. Waits out the tremor in his chest that is all guilt and sorrow, because Daniel has enough to weather without Louis' internal conflict. He keeps it tucked away, walled carefully off, separate as his own mind touches Daniel's, something akin to a light lean, shoulder to shoulder.
"What happened was of Armand's own making," at last, simple dismissal of a thing Louis knows to be more complex than he's acknowledging. Moves onwards to admit, "It's not unusual, feeling your maker."
Louis feels Lestat even now, the threads between them all the more solid for the relief of their reunion, the time spent together. Long parting ended, and now some rebirth, renewal, whatever they make of it.
What will he do?
"I'll go where you go," Louis reminds Daniel quietly. "Brooklyn, and then wherever you like."
Louis is okay, Louis feels terrible over what's happened to Daniel, but he found Lestat again. He's out from Armand's control. Daniel is— coping, bit by bit. (Bite by bite??? We have fun)
The prospect of sleeping during the day feels daunting, for some reason, though he manages it; the next night, still jittery in stops and starts, but feeling more capable of thinking things through without forcing himself to. A breather, even if they're still here, in just one more place he was abducted to. Enough time to see something interesting, listen to Louis' opinion about it, associate the place with more than just Armand. Though Armand feels carved out somewhere inside of him now, permanent.
He has a long time to think about that. No rush to do it now.
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no subject
A moment of quiet in the wake of the question. Not withholding, not really, only parsing out his answer. Trying to pin down a thing he's scarcely given thought to himself.
"I'll tell you," he acquiesces, between he sweeps of his hand, observing Daniel's face in profile. "After I remind you that you haven't interrupted anything."
Insistent on this point, unwilling to let even this glancing comment stand. Continuing on, without leaving Daniel the space for an objection.
"I went to New Orleans," softly, a murmur into the space between them. "I wanted to go home."
Home. Louis' voice softening further over this word. New Orleans. Lestat. The two mingle, intertwine.
"I found him there."
no subject
Maybe his instinct to push outward, away from himself, ask questions is a bad one. But Louis wants Daniel to use him as an anchor, and so, that's what he's doing. Trying to listen, trying to make his pulse calm down.
He thinks—
Of how fucking happy he is, genuinely. It floods him like the release of a painfully held breath. Louis got out of Dubai and found Lestat, for better or worse. Daniel didn't pull pack the curtain on something that couldn't be given closure. He doesn't pretend to know what that feels like - his relationships have deteriorated for far more mundane reasons. No pining involved. (Alice, a little. But does he miss her, or his fucking youth?)
no subject
His fingers scrape lightly at the nape of Daniel's neck. Palm sweeps back down his back once more. Back up again. Steady, continuous contact.
"We forgave each other," Louis says slowly, feeling his way through the answer. "I'm glad for it."
Fumbling towards an answer to the actual question.
"I feel lighter," makes him feel guilty too. "It was good to see him."
After so many years. After so much misunderstanding, so many lies.
no subject
"I'm glad about it, too. I am, Louis. You deserve to feel lighter about fucking something."
A dry laugh—
"Armand made it clear I ruined his fucking life."
It wasn't a major, active worry, that he had also ruined Louis' - somewhat preoccupied at the time, given the abduction - but it was there. He feels the resurgence of that worry now, and can let it go. Feels fucking great, actually, to be able to let something go, in this mood. He doesn't ask more, doesn't want to pry into things now when he's already driven a bulldozer through so much of Louis' privacy (invited, but still).
"I can tell he's still in Venice, by the way. Is that weird?"
It's weird.
"Will you go back to New Orleans?"
no subject
Says nothing, for a moment. Just touches him, because Daniel is permitting it, and because for the moment it seems to be helping. Squeezes his hand back. Waits out the tremor in his chest that is all guilt and sorrow, because Daniel has enough to weather without Louis' internal conflict. He keeps it tucked away, walled carefully off, separate as his own mind touches Daniel's, something akin to a light lean, shoulder to shoulder.
"What happened was of Armand's own making," at last, simple dismissal of a thing Louis knows to be more complex than he's acknowledging. Moves onwards to admit, "It's not unusual, feeling your maker."
Louis feels Lestat even now, the threads between them all the more solid for the relief of their reunion, the time spent together. Long parting ended, and now some rebirth, renewal, whatever they make of it.
What will he do?
"I'll go where you go," Louis reminds Daniel quietly. "Brooklyn, and then wherever you like."
🎀 territory?? unless you had further desires
Louis is okay, Louis feels terrible over what's happened to Daniel, but he found Lestat again. He's out from Armand's control. Daniel is— coping, bit by bit. (Bite by bite??? We have fun)
The prospect of sleeping during the day feels daunting, for some reason, though he manages it; the next night, still jittery in stops and starts, but feeling more capable of thinking things through without forcing himself to. A breather, even if they're still here, in just one more place he was abducted to. Enough time to see something interesting, listen to Louis' opinion about it, associate the place with more than just Armand. Though Armand feels carved out somewhere inside of him now, permanent.
He has a long time to think about that. No rush to do it now.
They'll figure it out.