#rueroyaled

ㅤㅤFirst show jitters weren’t something that overly bothered him, the crowd relatively small yet ravenously impatient, stationary statues with very little life as the opening act died on its feet, the lack of reflected enthusiasm as toxic as the city’s towering industrial smokestacks - they weren’t the right fit for Lestat’s entourage, and deep down the blond had known when viewing preliminary videos online, already reconsidering alternative options for subsequent nights in spite of just how picky the vampire could be, a few  desperate  vying parties having flagged their interest via social media  (  aucun d’entre eux n’était très bon  ).  Fingertips poised at his temples, they dig into the tousled golden tresses, accentuating a little volume as errant flecks of glitter cling to lashes, a flutter that doesn’t disperse but rather spreads them across the fine hair, an upward dart of the gaze creating a dazzling effect.

ㅤㅤDistracted eyes a little glassy while rolling like marbles, it takes a moment for focus to set in, a weaving of ethereal fingertips under cool skin coaxing and convulsing in a sweetened restriction of delicate ribbons, sliding down along the neck as crimson stained lips widen to catch his breath. The rhythmic swell of Lestat’s heart looms like an overbearing gong and swallows every other sound within the room, a kaleidoscope of colour and light fragmenting into ephemeral pieces to be stitched back together, born anew with a burgeoning crescendo deified to hover directly above him—  The tip of the vampire’s tongue laps at the remnants of droplets that seep from her wrist, the size of his grasp dwarfing its slender formation, and yet not of cogent mind to heal the wound just yet, an amalgam of greed and satiation resulting in the blond slumping back to peer at the ceiling instead. Cheap decorative glow-in-the-dark stars throbbing in time with the din that’s nigh war-like, the consumption of an inner embattlement is all that remains.

@rueroyaled 🐕

ㅤㅤShellshocked - partial blame and inflated arrogance be damned, too much had gone wrong in a single night that he can’t distinctly categorise the respective severity, a commonplace numbness having long set in burrowed to the core, allowing for each overbearing sentiment to eke through in violent technicolour bursts of realisation. Taking its toll, Lestat’s resolve momentarily crumbles while in this hapless state, but he determinedly reasons that this is a temporary setback, grasping onto the belief that there would be the inevitability of bouncing back  (  il se remet toujours—  ).  And yet there’s the knowledge that even the most dazzling of stars have the capacity to fade into pitiful obscurity, to be swallowed whole by the swarming abyss, avaricious void leaving behind no discernible trace in its yawning wake. A wince, shoulders rolling back in rejection of the unsettling thought with fingertips lightly rippling from Mojo’s concerned contact, the sensation grounding him in the here and now  (  ne pas trop s’éloigner  ).

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ“ … ”  Lips part, a hoarseness to the voice gives him pause, trying again in earnest as a palm delves into dark fur, a touch that both extends comfort and draws succor from the mere gesture alone, an exchange of sentiment.  “ You should not be here... ”  A fracturing about the syllables denotes that the idle words hold no weight, frame limply cowing down to squarely rest his forehead between the miracle of a creature’s soft yet strong shoulders, taking in a deep steadying breath as the tightening of the jaw emits a low wracked sob in much needed release. The scent of the blood surrounding them is an overwhelming ferric deluge, and it takes a prolonged moment to understand that the underlying dampness in the thick coat is a consequence, Lestat slowly withdrawing with a small sniff as if proffering a semblance of an apology - the vampire just needed a moment to think, to pinpoint what to do next  (  le besoin d’aide, le besoin de quelqu’un en qui il puisse avoir confiance—  ).