[ It is indeed impressive how she steels herself to the world once again, how easily she slips into that haughty bravado, but oh... if it's designed to make Lestat feel closed off, it does the exact opposite. On the contrary, he feels a strange kind of understanding when he watches her mood shift, away from tenderness and towards flippancy because it's easier and it's safer; the same way that Lestat leans so heavily on being an unfeeling monster should the issue touch a little close to a nerve. Their meeting really was a fateful thing, he thinks, as he feels the challenge of pulling more tender moments from her settle somewhere in his chest. ]
Of course, mademoiselle. Anything you wish.
[ So much for the mess, he figures; he's never cleaned anything up in his life and doesn't see why he should start now. Especially not when the City kind of cleans up itself.
He slips an arm around her shoulders as he pulls her toward the door, and can't resist joking: ]
no subject
Of course, mademoiselle. Anything you wish.
[ So much for the mess, he figures; he's never cleaned anything up in his life and doesn't see why he should start now. Especially not when the City kind of cleans up itself.
He slips an arm around her shoulders as he pulls her toward the door, and can't resist joking: ]
So, it vibrates?