#unheald

i'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free. // @unheald ( daniel ) //

brows comes together-- intensity in those vibrant eyes and a kind of hurt that runs through armand. is that all daniel saw this as? some great, wasted time? as if... as if it were all for nothing? all those years, a pointless endeavour? as if they hadn't been some of the best, some of the most alive he'd ever felt?

maybe it was true. maybe, after all, armand had truly only been the drug of choice of the addict. maybe... it was never truly love, but a means to get what daniel craved above all else.

jaw trembles with the weight of it all, and armand curses the tears that slip from his eyes as he looks at daniel. looks at him and knows... this was it. this would be the final time...

"for free, was it? what, as if this were some mediocre, cheap love affair?" he laughs-- laughs a bitter and terrible sound. advances on daniel as he does with that look-- what was it louis had called it? half blank, half apocalyptic. he never once imagined looking at daniel like this. "as if there were never a cost for me, for you either. as if--"

cuts himself off, heart hammering inside his chest like some great, ugly, wild beast. teeth are grit and armand... knows. he knows what has to come next. knows that... there would be no way for daniel to find a life after this if he did not...

“ whatever it is you think was going on between us, you’re wrong. ”

he smiles down at coco giving her a little brush along her stomach as she coos up at him. she's settled in for now and then he turns towards rosita and sighs while folding his arms over his chest. "not sure why you feel like you have to pretend, rosita. this world is shit and we're trying to do our best to make it better for them," he says gesturing towards the little one. "we do what we can to live so we aren't just surviving but it's okay to not be so strong all the time."

@unheald asked: ❛ they think i'm broken. i'm not broken. ❜ - from louis

silence stretches in the comfort of the rented room, but the aura’s off. louis’s tension comes off in familiar waves, but armand waits for him to say something. he sits on the bed, shoulders relaxed against the headboard, seemingly calm, despite the whirlwind in his skull. it’s joined by worry for how louis looks, for his overall posture — emotion ( is it sadness? ) making his eyes seem brighter somehow. he can’t describe it, chooses to inhale a drag from the cigarette perched between his lips.

he’s desperate to know the right move in all this. such sadness, but doesn’t he know he’d choreograph the world to his favor if he could? he could free him ( they could free each other ).

he wants to comfort him, to do more than flip ashes into the tray on the nightstand. his hand in all this — it isn't to hurt him, even though he knew it could ( for a time ).

as louis finally speaks, amber eyes seek him out and he scoots to the edge of the bed to sit beside him instead, a slender hand coming to rest on the other vampire’s shoulder — gentle, an attempt at reassurance.

 ❝ they? do you mean the coven? claudia? ❞

the dramatic eye roll is matched with a grin, one that curls up his lips and leaves flashes of fangs in the wake of the grin. " always forget how much of the dramatics you get from me. " daughter wasn't a term used for claudia, not to her face; and definitely not to louis. but times like this, inside his own brain when lestat saw so much of himself in claudia.