[ Lestat, too, finds himself rapt by the way their hands look together like this. The ring is a similar shade to Louis' hair, and the banding so plain that it doesn't distract at all from the way the stone shines, a perfect fit. The intimacy isn't lost on him, but Lestat's mind lingers much heavily on the idea of Louis wearing this with any kind of regularity, a piece of Lestat always with him no matter where he went or what might try to come between them.
It's painfully romantic, so much so that it almost hurts his heart to think on it... and then Louis takes his wrist, his face, kisses him with an indescribable measured intensity, and it's Lestat's turn to host that overwhelmed expression when Louis pulls away. ]
Certainly not. [ Lestat licks his lips, considering another kiss, but God, he's not sure if he can allow himself one without giving in to the ridiculous notion of cancelling all their plans and dragging Louis into their soft little closet and-- no, no, no, he has plans for this evening, it's no time to get distracted by how much he enjoys kissing Louis. ] ...Why do you ask?
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It's painfully romantic, so much so that it almost hurts his heart to think on it... and then Louis takes his wrist, his face, kisses him with an indescribable measured intensity, and it's Lestat's turn to host that overwhelmed expression when Louis pulls away. ]
Certainly not. [ Lestat licks his lips, considering another kiss, but God, he's not sure if he can allow himself one without giving in to the ridiculous notion of cancelling all their plans and dragging Louis into their soft little closet and-- no, no, no, he has plans for this evening, it's no time to get distracted by how much he enjoys kissing Louis. ] ...Why do you ask?