there is an ocean between christ and myself.

The vampire stood there, frozen, fighting the urge to break. He looked despondent, his mouth trembling, as they stood there motionless in the silver light of the moon. Every part of him screamed to get away while he still could.

Lestat is poison, Louis reminded himself; a mantra he'd told himself each and every time he'd thought fondly of his maker.

He will hurt you.

But he couldn't move. For the most fleeting of moments, he'd seen the faint but unmistakable flicker of humanity in Lestat's icy blue gaze. Not the powerful and mysterious vampire he pretended to be, but the vulnerable man that he was. Just like the night they had consummated their love in the church in Storyville. And in that brief eternity as they held one another's gaze, he did not feel sorrow, but desperate. Desperate to hold him, and be held by him. Desperate to press his lips against Lestat's and put behind them a half a century of anguish. Desperate to begin again.

The words got stuck in his neck, jagged like a splintered bone so embedded in his throat that he wasn't sure he could cough it out. Lestat was prideful, defiant to a fault. You couldn't tell him to do one thing without him imagining up a way to do the very opposite.

For Louis, he thought, he could take the reins of his hedonistic self, the ever bohemian dandy, and lead it in a more agreeable direction.

❛ Louis, I promise you. ❜ He'd reach forward, catching the other's tear before it could reach the softness of his mouth.

'I love you, Louis. You are loved.'

Words he often replayed in his mind, seesawing between if he believed them to have been spoken truly or if they had been said deliberately as a means of manipulating him. Perhaps they had begun as the latter, and ended up the former. Louis wasn't sure what he believed any more. Did it even matter? They were a century removed from that day, had already forgiven one another for the transgressions of the past. It was, perhaps, finally time to allow old wounds to heal. To focus, not on the pain he'd left behind him, but the infinite possibilities of a future yet unwritten that lay before him.

After a moment of contemplative silence, he finally looked up. "You're right. I do understand flawed perfection. I stare at it now. I see it every night when I close my eyes. I've yearned for it for days uncountable."

Louis stopped walking, fixing his gaze to Lestat's. "There are no more churches for us, mon cher. No purpose in declaring eternal love for one another..." The vampire drew closer, closer than he'd wanted, and touched a hand to the the face he'd spent half a century dreaming of. "We already did that a long time ago..."

The hand on his face was cool, naturally, smooth like stone. Yet the affection that radiated ushered forth blood welling up in his eyes. What he'd assumed would be an evening of back and forth, of him trying to prove himself in front of Louis, was turning out to be something much more cathartic.

It was. . . sincere.

Louis fixed his gaze on the other's iridescently beautiful eyes, utterly transfixed by the hypnotic way in which they seemed to absorb the light of the full moon and reflect it back, making them shimmer with a celestial majesty that made his heart flutter the way it had when they'd first met. Though he had only known a fragment of his eternity, in over a century, he had never encountered a creature as magnificent to behold as Lestat. From the musical lilt of his voice, to the effortless grace with which he seemed to carry himself, Lestat was as near to an angel as Louis had yet known.

Which made his perpetually shitty, impetuous attitude all the more frustrating.

"Lucia is maddened by an idealized version of the past," Louis raised a finger, affecting the irritation plain on his chiseled features. "I can see why you might idolize her."

In earlier times, Lestat had been able to weaponize his comprehensive knowledge of art and culture as means by which to place himself above Louis and Claudia; to be able to look down upon them as a means of self-aggrandizement. But Louis had spent the years that had separated them wisely, immersing himself in a rich tapestry of art, music, and literature spanning centuries so that he would never again be used in such a manner.

Impossibly beautiful Louis.

Exactly how he was when they departed last, though perhaps now with more toys to throw. He'd always bitten back, ever ready to knock antlers and a penchant for not staying down. It was everything he loved him for, even when the older vampire first arrived and lay eyes on the most sublime creature he'd ever seen. The infant years of their relationship were turbulent, yet the most passionate he'd known. Embers of infatuation had kept their cold bodies warm and lit their ever present nights.

❛ And who understands flawed perfection more than you, mon chéri? ❜ Lestat was constant in his losing battles to not lash out in kind, never enjoying the feeling of defeat or humility. He'd clawed his way out of being a countryside, uneducated rube, and he never intended to go back in that box.

❛ Always the collar ready to temper my flights of fancy with the yank of the proverbial leash. ❜ It bothered him that he'd been there opening night, though he'd never admit it. Lestat had been clueless. But he knew it was no mere accident. Louis was of his blood, after all.

Louis approached the other, his footsteps slow, their distance measured precisely. He didn't dare draw too near. Not for fear that Lestat might have lashed out at him. Louis believed they were beyond reprisals, both parties having agreed that the past should remain where it had been left. But rather, as though they were celestial bodies, Louis knew that if they drew too close to one another, they may never be able to separate from one another's orbit again.

So, although it pained him greatly; Louis fought the need - the urgency - to be close to Lestat, resolved to maintain a distance between them.

❛ Walk with me? ❜ He repeated, almost mockingly, face tensing with mild frustration. He didn't want to walk. He wanted to throw his arms about his companion, kiss every centimeter of his face, beg for forgiveness even.

Restraint, Lestat.

send one to have our muses meet for the first time.

“Sorry, were you just talking to me?”

“I think you dropped this.”

“You look lost. Need some help?”

“I don’t usually talk to strangers, but…”

“You’re sitting in my spot.”

“Whoa! Careful!”

“We’ve never met, right? You seem familiar.”

“Is that seat taken?”

“Sorry, I think I just spilled something on you.”

“You’re blocking the doorway.”

“Were you just staring at me?”

“Excuse me, do you know the time?”

“Wait — are you the person I’m supposed to meet?”

“I’ve been sent to find you.”

“Please don’t be alarmed, but I think we have the same bag.”

“Do you work here?”

“I’m fairly certain that’s mine.”

“You’ve got something on your face.”

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Do you know the way to ___?”

“You’re hurt. Do you need help?”

“That’s a fine ___ (cloak/hat/book/etc.). Where did you get it?”

“This might sound strange, but can I hide behind you for a moment?”

“You look like you could use a friend.”

“I think your dog just stole my lunch.”

“Hey, you dropped your coin purse.”

“I think we’re stuck in here together.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but…”

“Are you the new neighbor?”

“First time in town?”

“I’m not sure if this belongs to you, but…”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“I think you’re in the wrong place.”

“You seem… out of place.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you following me?”

“That was a close call.”

“Not to alarm you, but someone’s watching you.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

“You look like you’re in trouble.”

“Was that your doing back there?”

“You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“That was impressive. How’d you manage it?”

“I’m guessing you’re not here by accident.”

“Do I want to know what just happened?”

“You might want to keep your voice down.”

“Is it always this strange around here?”

“I have a feeling we’re about to become acquainted whether we like it or not.”