[ Lestat is such a physical creature by nature, and yet he can count on one hand the amount of times he's been easily so physical with Armand, despite how nigh consistently he burns for it while he's around him. He traces his thumb-pad over one of his rings, twisting it a little and then pushing it back into place, watching his other precise little hand pull the cards toward where they sit.
He can't remember the last time he'd had his cards read - someone had offered it to Tuff Cookie once, and she'd urged him to have a reading himself, but something about the whole affair gave him a strange feeling that forced him to decline. Was it doubt in the skill of the one offering the reading, or a fear of what he might find were they of true talent? Who's to say. But with Armand, now, here, it feels different. ]
Let's see... [ He murmurs back in the same old French, his eyes lighting up at the sound of it from Armand, so nostalgic. ] How about.. My luck in the future; is there anything I should be doing to bring myself more good favour than bad?
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He can't remember the last time he'd had his cards read - someone had offered it to Tuff Cookie once, and she'd urged him to have a reading himself, but something about the whole affair gave him a strange feeling that forced him to decline. Was it doubt in the skill of the one offering the reading, or a fear of what he might find were they of true talent? Who's to say. But with Armand, now, here, it feels different. ]
Let's see... [ He murmurs back in the same old French, his eyes lighting up at the sound of it from Armand, so nostalgic. ] How about.. My luck in the future; is there anything I should be doing to bring myself more good favour than bad?