[ Of course he's fashionably late. But he's also impeccably dressed in an autumnal looking silk shirt under a dark suit, along with his usual rings and a few other trinkets, with a small parcel tucked under one arm. He surveys the organised chaos, but has to admit the location is appropriate - tasteful, intimate, thought out in the precise detail of almost all Lestat's whimsies - even to the decoration and musical choices. Other guests are milling around, many of whom he now recognises, but - other than Lestat who is, as ever, impossible to miss - Armand has eyes for only one other.
He navigates silently to Louis' side, appearing there in a manner that, to the casual observer would have them swearing he's been there the whole night for how natural it is, and waits until there's a lull in activity around them before speaking. ]
Here, have a gift! (it's not Armand)
He navigates silently to Louis' side, appearing there in a manner that, to the casual observer would have them swearing he's been there the whole night for how natural it is, and waits until there's a lull in activity around them before speaking. ]
Bon anniversaire, Louis.