( The scent of blood makes it obvious just how much Armand must have lost, and Louis feels a disconcerting mix of thirst and fear rise up in him that takes him right back to the haunted house. He makes it over to the edge of Armand's sleeping quarters and stops there, wringing his hands uncertainly as he looks down at Lestat and the slumbering, vulnerable, conspicuously undressed Armand next to him. He tries not to think of his own injury and how similar their circumstances seem; he doesn't really want to think about himself at all right now. Armand seems more or less whole, and so does Lestat, and that is enough of a relief that little else matters.
He sinks down onto one knee, meeting Lestat's eyes and extending a hand, palm up, for him to take. )
Of course I came. I was so worried, even before you called.
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He sinks down onto one knee, meeting Lestat's eyes and extending a hand, palm up, for him to take. )
Of course I came. I was so worried, even before you called.
Is he... ( Louis swallows. ) He'll be all right?