[ Lestat can't read Armand's face as well as he's certain he can read Louis' by now - though, even with him, sometimes Lestat feels as lost as a blind man scanning a page with his fingertips stained with ink - but he can hardly miss the way his expression falls perfectly blank like that. He can't discern the reason for it; he could try to look into his head, but Lestat realises with a childlike bitterness that he does not wish to. He doesn't want to see how Armand has twisted this olive branch into a dagger yet again, in the blackened hall where Armand keeps his thoughts.
He feels his hands tighten in the air now that Armand has moved from him, a brief tensing of his hands into fists, a sight that makes him miss those dark leather gloves he'd taken to wearing, and then they fall to his side and he nods.
Peace, he'd said, as if peace was granted so easily that all you had to do was wish for it. Perhaps the more he says it, the more he'll believe it. Lestat feels like he knows nothing of peace now, with his heart torn between breaking and bursting, but in a quick moment he decides that he won't let it spoil this, he won't let it fester and become something that taints this picture, this memory. He won't become a victim to his own feelings, even as his face prickles with a strange kind of heat. If he has to wrench peace up by the throat and hold it still enough for him to subdue it, even for a second, then such a violent monster he will be. ]
A crowd.. [ Lestat scoffs lightly, pulling a smile onto his face as he regards Armand, trying not to wince at the sight of him taking down his hair, undoing his influence, how it burns in him almost like embarrassment. ] You look good, Armand, but not that good.
[ Louis comes into view and immediately Lestat feels relief-- but then he looks up at him with that expectant face, waiting for him to mould him like he'd tried to do for Armand, and his smile goes a little tight. He knows it's foolish, to think this way when Louis has always welcomed these particular kinds of choices being taken out of his hands, but Lestat's hands feel frozen at his sides. ]
Ah, we'll offset the balance at the back, Louis. That should look good in such a small frame, don't you think?
[ Eventually he manages to raise one enough to straighten Louis' lapel, patting the buttons of his waistcoat appreciatively, before turning to position himself slightly behind and to the left of Armand's smaller body with Louis on his right, the cord to the camera shutter in hand and prepared to snap it once they take their places and hold still. ]
no subject
He feels his hands tighten in the air now that Armand has moved from him, a brief tensing of his hands into fists, a sight that makes him miss those dark leather gloves he'd taken to wearing, and then they fall to his side and he nods.
Peace, he'd said, as if peace was granted so easily that all you had to do was wish for it. Perhaps the more he says it, the more he'll believe it. Lestat feels like he knows nothing of peace now, with his heart torn between breaking and bursting, but in a quick moment he decides that he won't let it spoil this, he won't let it fester and become something that taints this picture, this memory. He won't become a victim to his own feelings, even as his face prickles with a strange kind of heat. If he has to wrench peace up by the throat and hold it still enough for him to subdue it, even for a second, then such a violent monster he will be. ]
A crowd.. [ Lestat scoffs lightly, pulling a smile onto his face as he regards Armand, trying not to wince at the sight of him taking down his hair, undoing his influence, how it burns in him almost like embarrassment. ] You look good, Armand, but not that good.
[ Louis comes into view and immediately Lestat feels relief-- but then he looks up at him with that expectant face, waiting for him to mould him like he'd tried to do for Armand, and his smile goes a little tight. He knows it's foolish, to think this way when Louis has always welcomed these particular kinds of choices being taken out of his hands, but Lestat's hands feel frozen at his sides. ]
Ah, we'll offset the balance at the back, Louis. That should look good in such a small frame, don't you think?
[ Eventually he manages to raise one enough to straighten Louis' lapel, patting the buttons of his waistcoat appreciatively, before turning to position himself slightly behind and to the left of Armand's smaller body with Louis on his right, the cord to the camera shutter in hand and prepared to snap it once they take their places and hold still. ]