( Louis chuckles at Lestat's theatrical reaction as he sits up, holding his gift in one hand and running the other through his rumpled hair. He's aching for that delayed satisfaction nearly as much as Lestat clearly is, but the vexed scowl on his beloved's face is enough to soothe that particular need for the moment. But then, as Lestat said, his restraint is more powerful.

The look on Louis' face is sly and appraising, his gaze traveling from Lestat's feet up his crossed legs and chest, and finally to his silver eyes. )

I must have learned some wickedness from so much time spent in your company. Now let me see what you've been up to.

( Delicately, Louis slits the wrapping with the tip of his thumbnail, careful not to touch whatever lies beneath. He removes the brown paper in a wide spiral, giving the moment the sort of drama that he knows Lestat appreciates. But any attempt at artifice vanishes the moment Louis realizes what he's holding.

Or, nearly realizes. He traces the shapes of the letters with his fingertips, deeply moved and slightly bewildered. )

Oh, Lestat, where on earth did you get this? I thought it was long out of print. It's marvelous, look at it…

( Louis turns it over in his hands, taking in every detail of the spine and practically caressing the soft velvet cover. He's almost there, but already too enthralled and in love to put the complete picture together. He pauses, the pages still closed, and looks back to Lestat. )

But how did you know I'd lost my copy?

( ... wait ... )