[That's quite the surprise to hear. But he smiles brilliantly soon after he hears it.]
Yes. I want to do that. Whatever book you like, Louis.
[He doesn't often let Louis make the decisions (because he has a bad habit of walking all over him) but there are times like now where he jumps at the chance.]
( louis's expression softens at the sight of lestat's bright grin. though he can't bring himself to smile back, his adoration is clear in his face, and he sets his hand lightly on lestat's shoulder as he leans back in for one last lingering kiss. )
[Lestat smiles as he watches him go before rising up so he can go to the other room. He has some time so he gathers together a pile of books they can read. Short stories, poems... There's really no reason beyond them being short so it will be easier to take turns.
When Mojo goes to greet Louis upon his return, he smiles as he lands from where he'd been grabbing the last book.]
I found us quite the collection we can go through. Where do you want to start?
( louis has his fingers buried in mojo's thick fur, greeting the dog quietly in french, when lestat appears. louis looks surprised, the way he always does when good things happen to him without a catch. but then louis smiles, his cheeks coloring with the blood from his hunt, and his expression is all the softer for it. )
It'll take us forever to read all of that. ( which doesn't sound so terrible at all, under the circumstances. he goes to lestat and kisses his cheek, taking his arm. ) I'm in the mood for poetry tonight.
It will not. We'll need far more books than this for that.
[Lestat guides him over to the couch and grabs one of the books of poetry. He waits until Louis is sat down before flopping down to claim his lap with his head. Flipping to one of the pages, he ponders it for a moment before starting to read it aloud. It's not written in French but he reads it that way anyway.
( louis's fingers move through lestat's soft golden curls as he reads, nails dragging lightly against his scalp. the moment feels impossibly tender, a sharp contrast to the raw emotions they'd both dealt with over the last twenty-four hours, and louis is so moved that he can hardly bear it. his throat tightens as the start of blood tears sting, and he shuts his eyes to keep them from falling, for as long as he can.
he lets lestat finish his lovely translation of a poem by keats, then cups his jaw and leans over his reclining lover to place an upside-down kiss on his lips. )
[Lestat has turned to the next page when Louis cups his jaw. Curious, he looks up and feels those lips press to his own. He smiles into the contact, savoring how it feels to have Louis kissing him so sweetly.
When they part, he reaches up to run his fingers through his hair.]
( louis wipes at the unshed tears in his eyes, and leans into the touch of lestat's hand in his dark hair just as eagerly as a cat. he stays in french, too, savoring the chance to share their mother tongue, and so nostalgic hearing it from lestat in particular. )
And another and another and another. But isn't it my turn?
( louis takes his time flipping through the pages, just so he can savor lestat's touch a moment longer. he turns slightly to kiss lestat's palm, fingers still moving through his curls. )
We could make a habit of this. You have quite enough books for it.
Someone had to make sure you had an endless supply of books to read for your arrival.
[Lestat closes his eyes and leaves it at that. But it's certainly a very clear case of him saying how much he loves and has missed Louis when he hasn't been here.]
( louis appreciates subtlety, even if he has a talent for under-reading lestat's. here, though, he does manage to read between the lines, and responds with his quiet and sincere intention not to leave lestat again. not if louis has any choice in the matter.
but, back to poetry. and french. he settles back again, stroking lestat's hair as he reads and translates. he eases into the rhythm of it with natural fluidity, though he hasn't done anything quite like this before. at least he takes beautifully to some things. )
[It almost looks like Lestat dozes off as he listens based on how still he goes. But he's listening, taking it all in. He loves hearing the way that Louis speaks French. It's so... Like home. Like walking the streets of their beloved New Orleans.
It makes him smile as he lets the words hang over him like a pleasant and welcoming blanket.]
( louis glances down at lestat when he's finished his poem, and the sight of him so content in louis's lap makes his heart ache. he doesn't want this moment to end, no matter how lovely lestat's french sounds to his ears — and so he reads another, and another, until finally he comes to a pause.
very gently, in case lestat is asleep: ) I haven't bored you to death, have I?
[Lestat smiles and he makes himself comfortable all over again.]
Don't stop. I'll take my turns tomorrow.
[He just wants to sit here listening to that beautiful sound of Louis' voice and feel so honored that he gets to have this time with him. And it warms him that they'll get to spend the rest of the night just like this.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[The romantic side of him flutters as he stares at Louis. Even this close, at such an unflattering angle, he's so painfully beautiful.]
You mean this? Us together, Louis?
no subject
( louis brings his hand to rest against lestat's chest. )
Your heart beats inside of mine.
no subject
[But he means that fondly this time as he kisses him.]
Let us be bound together always then. In every lifetime.
no subject
If there is a lifetime after this one, I will follow you there hand in hand without question. And I'm grateful that you're here with me in this one.
no subject
Louis, you must feed now. You've put it off for too long. I promise you I will be here when you return.
no subject
Oui, yes, yes, you're right... I'll be off before I put you in a melancholy mood.
( he glances to lestat's book — not the one that had caused louis so much strife last night, but the poetry he'd been reading while louis slept. )
When I return, can we please read to each other?
no subject
Yes. I want to do that. Whatever book you like, Louis.
[He doesn't often let Louis make the decisions (because he has a bad habit of walking all over him) but there are times like now where he jumps at the chance.]
no subject
I won't keep you waiting.
( and with that promise, he's off to hunt. )
no subject
When Mojo goes to greet Louis upon his return, he smiles as he lands from where he'd been grabbing the last book.]
I found us quite the collection we can go through. Where do you want to start?
no subject
It'll take us forever to read all of that. ( which doesn't sound so terrible at all, under the circumstances. he goes to lestat and kisses his cheek, taking his arm. ) I'm in the mood for poetry tonight.
no subject
[Lestat guides him over to the couch and grabs one of the books of poetry. He waits until Louis is sat down before flopping down to claim his lap with his head. Flipping to one of the pages, he ponders it for a moment before starting to read it aloud. It's not written in French but he reads it that way anyway.
For no other reason than it's prettier that way.]
no subject
he lets lestat finish his lovely translation of a poem by keats, then cups his jaw and leans over his reclining lover to place an upside-down kiss on his lips. )
no subject
When they part, he reaches up to run his fingers through his hair.]
Would you like to hear another?
[This time he stays in French.]
no subject
And another and another and another. But isn't it my turn?
no subject
Yes, yes. Here.
no subject
We could make a habit of this. You have quite enough books for it.
no subject
[Lestat closes his eyes and leaves it at that. But it's certainly a very clear case of him saying how much he loves and has missed Louis when he hasn't been here.]
no subject
( louis appreciates subtlety, even if he has a talent for under-reading lestat's. here, though, he does manage to read between the lines, and responds with his quiet and sincere intention not to leave lestat again. not if louis has any choice in the matter.
but, back to poetry. and french. he settles back again, stroking lestat's hair as he reads and translates. he eases into the rhythm of it with natural fluidity, though he hasn't done anything quite like this before. at least he takes beautifully to some things. )
no subject
It makes him smile as he lets the words hang over him like a pleasant and welcoming blanket.]
no subject
very gently, in case lestat is asleep: ) I haven't bored you to death, have I?
no subject
[Lestat smiles and he makes himself comfortable all over again.]
Don't stop. I'll take my turns tomorrow.
[He just wants to sit here listening to that beautiful sound of Louis' voice and feel so honored that he gets to have this time with him. And it warms him that they'll get to spend the rest of the night just like this.]