[ Lestat shifts his weight from one foot to the other, the various chains hanging from his belt and his throat tinkling faintly as he does; it's such a strangely human gesture because vampires, as a rule, don't really fidget… which goes to show exactly how out of his comfort zone this entire discussion is.

Usually Lestat loves being told off, but this is less that and more being told he's been disappointing, which is a thousand times worse and not in any of the good ways. Where normally he takes criticism with fiery defensiveness, in the face of this he knows all too well that she's right. It's becoming a trend that all his criticisms end up too true for him to deny them as of late. ]

Tch. It's so much more difficult to do this face-to-face than it is writing or reading a book about it. [ He brings one of his hands up to his brow, pressing his fingers in over his temple. ] Alright, fine. If we're being honest.

[ Hands in his pockets now, trying to tame his fiddling at the very least, so he focuses on her instead. ]

I don't do this very often, this talking afterwards. I'm sure you can imagine why. I had no intention of ever seeing you again. I know it's a small community here, but I thought you wouldn't be interested in seeking out one who 'dined and dashed', as you put it, and that I wouldn't have to try very hard to ignore you. I thought I'd see something beautifully mundane and exhilaratingly typical in your head, the same as I do with most mortals, but I didn't. I thought I wouldn't care.

[ The rest goes unsaid: but I do. He looks at her for a moment, inhales, and then pushes it back out his nose as if steadying himself. When he speaks, his voice is oddly stable, as though he's choosing his words carefully. ]

Not only that, but I thought, until recently, that the bite was all I had in my disposal, as a vampire.