[ Lestat reels Louis in a touch closer as they walk, Lestat meandering toward the bumper cars even if the suggestion wasn't a serious one. His eyes are, once again, caught on Louis like he's incapable of anything else; he drinks in the brightness of his eyes and the broadness of his smile, and yet again for what feels like the thousandth time, Lestat wonders if he could have had this all along, and what kind of man he might have been from seeing it every day. ]

Ah-ha, don't say such things as though you weren't the one wondering if you could best me in something!

[ He wags a finger at Louis, but his admonishment is much too weak to be serious. ]

Should we ask someone, do you think? A stranger may know better if such a competition could be a welcome part of a first date--

[ He looks around suddenly, head twisting in a great swish of blonde curls, and he's about five seconds away from collaring some innocent bystander and being very annoying if Louis allows it. ]