[ Lestat's fingers meet the encouraging steps of Louis' head pushing into his touch, and he spreads his chilled fingertips across his scalp, wonderfully captivated by the way his body seems to react with the same kind of pleasure as though he himself were having his hair played with - just the slightest little shiver across his skin.

His heart constricts with the earnestness in Louis' voice, so it's no surprise that he leans in the barest amount it takes to put his forehead to his temple and press a kiss to his cheek. ]

Of course I would, my heart. You really think I wouldn't love to see your beautiful hands play the piano, or pluck something sombre and haunting from a guitar?

[ He looks to those hands now, because of course he does, and can perfectly picture them expertly sounding out each note with the care and precision Louis applies to most things. Just the mental image alone is enough to make him smile. ]

I know I haven't done much in the way of teaching when it comes to you, but I'm sure you'll be a better student than I ever was.