( Louis' expression is distant, focused unhappily inward even as he looks into the camera lens. There's a dark cloud gathering inside him, that feeling that everything wrong in the world is his fault at the root of it — that somehow he ought to have known this would happen. Armand's resignation, Lestat's strange discomfort, the way he hesitates before lifting a hand to touch him, so cursory...
The shutter goes off; he looks slightly haunted in the photograph, matching Armand's tension.
Louis glances downward at Armand's request and the press of his shoulder. )
Did you blink?
( Well, it doesn't matter if that's only plausible deniability for both of them. Louis gathers himself, some of the unhappiness in his posture traded for something lighter and gentler, more accommodating. )
That's all right. We'll try again. On the count of three this time, Lestat?
no subject
The shutter goes off; he looks slightly haunted in the photograph, matching Armand's tension.
Louis glances downward at Armand's request and the press of his shoulder. )
Did you blink?
( Well, it doesn't matter if that's only plausible deniability for both of them. Louis gathers himself, some of the unhappiness in his posture traded for something lighter and gentler, more accommodating. )
That's all right. We'll try again. On the count of three this time, Lestat?