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[perfectdevil]

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[deathoftheauthor]

Thank goodness that you aren't a softer soul. You gave me these sharp teeth, after all.

But we're getting rather off the subject of your telephone.

[perfectdevil]

We are, aren't we, and I did.

.. I'm reluctant to talk of it now. I find myself thoroughly distracted by thoughts of your sharp teeth.

[deathoftheauthor]

( a pause, as Louis tries to decide whether he wants to encourage this. he really shouldn't. he knows better. he does. )

What sort of thoughts?

[perfectdevil]

Thoughts of sounds and sights. The sort you normally admonish me for.

[deathoftheauthor]

Devil.

Fiend.

It's difficult to admonish someone who enjoys it as much as you do.

1/2

[perfectdevil]

Mm, I know. It's infectious to see me happy, isn't it? I have a theory you enjoy it just as much as I do.

When you call me such sweet things, how can I resist tempting your reprimanding?

2/2

[perfectdevil]

I am thinking about the sound your mouth makes when you open it and run your tongue along the veins at my wrist. Such tiny sounds that anyone would miss, but I can hear them perfectly.

[deathoftheauthor]

( Louis is very glad Lestat can't hear the sound he made reading that. )

I don't. Do I? Really?

[perfectdevil]

You do, mon amour. You do.

I wish you could hear it. Surely you feel my pulse speed up?

[deathoftheauthor]

Of course. That must be why I can't hear myself. Nothing else exists when I'm so close to you. Just the sound of your heart beating, and my own racing to keep up.

[perfectdevil]

Truly under my spell, aren't you? I hear it all, like a drum in my head. I hear your mouth water for me, my blood flushing your cheeks. Sometimes I'm certain I can hear how badly you want me.

[deathoftheauthor]

Sometimes I actually wish you could.

[perfectdevil]

You'll simply have to tell me the next time. Does your soul sing for me, beautiful one?

[deathoftheauthor]

It sings for you always. When I'm with you, that song swells into a symphony.

[perfectdevil]

Ah, Louis..

You tease. Saying all these things to me here when I am far from you. Does it make you braver, the protection of this little screen?

[deathoftheauthor]

Braver? Perhaps. More eloquent, certainly.

I would remind you that you started this.

[perfectdevil]

Oh, you have never had issue with being eloquent, my love. Merely trouble when it comes to actually getting your words out. That I will take the blame for.

I will not take the blame for starting this, though! It is you who gave me cruel words and the flash of your teeth when you know damn well how distracting I find you.

[deathoftheauthor]

What am I going to do with you? I could do nothing at all and you would still find it provocative.

[perfectdevil]

Hmm. Have you thought about why that might be?

[deathoftheauthor]

Oh, I think about it almost constantly.

[perfectdevil]

And what conclusion have you come to, my contemplative one?

[deathoftheauthor]

( The reply is slightly delayed, Louis being more than slightly flustered by all this by now. )

I suspect that you might actually be in love with me.

[perfectdevil]

Is that so? What evidence do you have to support that claim?

[deathoftheauthor]

You put quite a considerable amount of effort into making me happy. And you find delight in things about me that I would think you'd quickly tire of.

I could attempt to craft a more erotic answer for you, but that one is the truth.

[perfectdevil]

[ There's a long wait for the next message to arrive. ]

I'm glad to know you finally believe me.