Thinking about Armand stalking Daniel from a distance after he’s wiped himself from Daniel’s mind again, unable to stay away. Armand watching Daniel sleep in a shitty post-divorce apartment with his daughters asleep in the other room. Armand crawling up to the foot of the bed just as he’d done while Marius slept all those years ago, unworthy of serving as his bedfellow for comfort as opposed to service and curling up on top of the sheets there, so careful not to disturb his boy’s sleep as he curls into a ball and weeps silently and remembers the one place in 500 years where he has ever felt wanted and accepted and whole. The place that he destroyed himself for the good of others, as he always does. There was a mess and he cleaned it up. Armand returning to Louis in the morning with nothing to report, sharing his bed but rarely touching. Armand enduring. Armand alone.
