[ Lestat listens, and his soaring heart is softened by Louis' honesty, by the idea of him busy with his tasks and his responsibilities but yearning for just the sight of his lover if not the chance to speak to him... Just as Lestat had stood by the changing rooms as he waited for his patrons to emerge, and gazed at the archway of the door, hoping that Louis might poke his head in to check everything was running smoothly… ]

To your credit, they were quite astonishing.

[ Lestat chuckles, his step getting a little wider, encouraging Louis to spin ever so slightly with him rather than just swaying gently in place. It's not dancing, not really, but it's something. ]

And now you have me all to yourself, for as long as you want me, and no-one is paying us the slightest bit of attention. Like we're in our own world, hm?

[ His hands find Louis' trim waist, and he adds a little flair to their steps but still keeps them slow, easy, no real pattern, just following the music, following intuition. When he speaks, his voice is low, for Louis' ears alone. ]

I was thinking about the last event we went to together. Not the concert, before that. You were wearing that double-breasted waistcoat I liked to see you in, you had your hair tied back. You'd look over at me every so often, amidst talking or while you danced with her. I thought you were checking that I was still there, still watching you like a hawk.

[ Every time he'd met Louis eyes without fail. Every time he found himself distracted by the sight of him in those shining colours, getting lost in the music, in the debates, in making her happy every time she pulled on his arm when another song she recognised started to play. ]

I couldn't look away. All I wanted to do was dance with you.