#pinksopaque

five years had passed since louis de pointe du lac had faced the man before him. daniel molloy, the fascinating reporter armand so graciously held captive after louis had an unfortunate meeting with the sun. he barely remembers the first day. only a few minutes prior to said meeting, louis attacked daniel, so hungry to taste the drugs within his veins, amongst the taste of his blood. and he remembers that, yet not the state he went into before he went up towards the roof. but he remembers the feel of his flesh burning beneath the rays that shone down on him, he remembers his own cry of pain, he remembers the smell, too. it was horrific. a terrible day, all triggered by the mention of her.

'BUT SHE DIDN'T LOVE YOU -'

it replayed over and over again in his mind, the one prominent thing that he remembered, and how deeply hurt he felt by the words thrown at him. granted, it was a valid reaction to what louis had thrown at him prior, but that was besides the point. however, louis was not the only one that had been hurt that day. daniel was too. louis' mistake had lead to an innocent being hurt by not only him - but also armand, being tortured. a man only wanting a story worth telling, a story worth selling. yet instead, he had been handed a trauma sentence, starting from louis himself.

days were spent of louis being unable to do anything, laying in his coffin to rest, to heal, as armand spent those days taking out his anger on somebody who did not deserve it. in and out of consciousness, and whenever he could, louis was yelling, begging, almost praying for armand to stop the torture of someone he deemed so pure. he had only been curious, and instead of a good story, he got something to be put away in hopes therapy might fix what had been done, and it was only today that louis had gathered the courage to come and actually see him - to say he was sorry, the guilt having been eating him alive. because maybe, just maybe, if he hadn't attacked him - armand may have let him go. he'd have taken the tape and allowed him to go on his merry way. but louis had no idea how truly cruel armand could be - unaware of other things done in the past.

I hear her humming from the kitchen and it helps to soothe me enough to catch my bearings. I find her, giving her a kiss on the top of her head, my arm wrapping around her shoulders for an affectionate squeeze. I don’t hear Henry so I suspect he’s asleep: we don’t get much time together lately so I’m grateful for this moment of silence. “Hey – how was your day?”, I ask pleasantly, then look over her shoulder to see what she just pulled out from the oven.

Now I look perplexed. I’m not sure what I’m looking at. She likes to try new things and that’s fine, but I also remember she could sprinkle arsenic in there and I feel my heart rate peak – is that the semi-burnt stuff crusting the top? Would I know to recognize it? No, Joe. No. Calm down. “What did you make this time? Smells great!”

 ❛ i know she's a difficult kid ( @pinksopaque ) - but i promise things will get better soon . give anita another chance . okay ? she's a good girl , we'll fix things . just don't tell the principal she was smoking , okay ? ❜