[ Lestat actually lets out a small snort of laughter at Louis' question, like it was much funnier than it actually was; as amusing as the idea of Armand blinking and looking dazed immortalised forever in a photo might be.
He takes Armand's hand in his, cold fingers around smaller knuckles, folding them in and lifting them so that he can guide Armand's hand to rest daintily across the embroidered lapel of his golden coat, and then lets his own hand find a home on his shoulder. ]
Stand a little closer, that's it. Louis--
[ His other arm draws Louis in by a guiding hand at the nape of his neck. He glances at him and quirks his lip, like it's an apology for their pose not befitting the regal quality of their dress, and then turns to the camera and wrenches a grin onto his face with less difficulty than he thought. ]
no subject
He takes Armand's hand in his, cold fingers around smaller knuckles, folding them in and lifting them so that he can guide Armand's hand to rest daintily across the embroidered lapel of his golden coat, and then lets his own hand find a home on his shoulder. ]
Stand a little closer, that's it. Louis--
[ His other arm draws Louis in by a guiding hand at the nape of his neck. He glances at him and quirks his lip, like it's an apology for their pose not befitting the regal quality of their dress, and then turns to the camera and wrenches a grin onto his face with less difficulty than he thought. ]
That's better. Now. One, two, three-