( Louis nods in agreement and strokes Lestat's face once more, using all the effort he can to keep his fingers curled there against the cool plane of his cheek. He takes a quick inventory of his strength and his faculties. This is by far the worst injury he's ever had, so it's difficult to say for certain, but... )
I think I can walk, but you'll have to help me to my feet.
( He takes a deep breath. Not so unbearable as it was before Lestat put his blood to it. He thinks it will be better once he's upright, once he isn't moving those specific muscles. He doesn't know if he'll have the strength to make it all the way to their apartment, and in fact the prospect makes him feel queasy and lightheaded, but he doesn't want to give up without trying. He looks at Lestat, paler than death beneath the red streaks painting his skin. )
no subject
I think I can walk, but you'll have to help me to my feet.
( He takes a deep breath. Not so unbearable as it was before Lestat put his blood to it. He thinks it will be better once he's upright, once he isn't moving those specific muscles. He doesn't know if he'll have the strength to make it all the way to their apartment, and in fact the prospect makes him feel queasy and lightheaded, but he doesn't want to give up without trying. He looks at Lestat, paler than death beneath the red streaks painting his skin. )
Take me home, Lestat.