I saw this and I was like “what a perfect opportunity to draw more really stupid VC shit”
I wrote a little drabble and thought I’d share it 🙂 It is based on a pretty vivid dream I had from Louis’s perspective. I hope you’ll enjoy it 🙂
Interview with the Vampire
Word count: 697
It was an unusually cold summer’s
night; every now and again, rain fell that pattered on the roof and the windows
and left a thick, hazy mist in the air. Claudia and I had settled on the large,
cushioned fauteuil in the sitting room. We had discussed our arrangements of
leaving New Orleans, our arms interlinked, her head lightly placed on my chest.
At times, she looked up at me with that angelic expression, lashes gently
fluttering, painting shadows on her round cheeks. She had talked of Lestat
sharply, resentment darkening her tone. Resentment had drowned out all other
feelings she might once have had for him. I couldn’t understand, how she could
talk of leaving without the wistful ache of past bliss eating at her heart, how
quickly that dark seed of hatred had corrupted her, as if she had no memory of
peace and happiness. Lestat would soon be back, she said, and when he returned,
she would go out. I did not need to make an effort to hear Lestat’s heady steps
in the parlour, as he made no effort to conceal them. Often, I felt, he simply
could not allow us to miss his arrival, almost trampled needlessly on the stairs;
he wanted us to notice. He would barge into the sitting room, still shaken by
peals of laughter of which he would not reveal the reasons, unless asked. It
was much the same tonight, he was chuckling to himself as he entered, his grey
eyes radiant, his cheeks full, his skin warm and rosy from the kill. He stopped
now before us, shortly, the laughter chipped off and faded into a shallow
smile. His darkened face was a mask and his smile quivered as he gazed at us in
“Oh look at my sweet little family,”
he said, voice brittle. So tender, his expression, yet I noticed the hint of
jealousy that poisoned his tone. Claudia and I remained silent, she merely
tensed in my arms. He turned now, swiftly and moved towards the balcony, with
meaning in his stride. He rattled purposefully at the door and swept away, out
of sight. We could hear him hum a melody, a Spanish tavern song perhaps, but
the notes scratched at his throat, the sounds were jagged, and his fingers were
strumming an impatient rhythm onto the balustrade. The wind picked up again and
billowed the lace curtains, the candle flames stirred in the breeze, a dried
rose petal fell. The air was humid and cold and smelled of rain.
It didn’t take long for him to come
back into the room, the balcony door closing behind him with a loud thud. He
had stopped humming and he looked at us again, blankly, coldly, without a
smile. Claudia stirred, and I loosened my grip around her, so she could get up
and away. This was when he came towards me, gesturing for me to move so he
could settle on the fauteuil beside me. Claudia stood next to it now, and she
watched as he pulled me close to him, on top of him, so that I sat between the
legs he had stretched on the settee and against his chest as he leaned back. He
folded his arms tightly around me and I could feel him sigh beneath me, I could
feel his breath in my ear and it raised every hair on my body. He relaxed,
completely, his cheek against my hair, cradling me. I could feel the powerful
vibration of his voice as he spoke to Claudia.
“Listen, listen, listen,” he said,
agitatedly, as if to keep her from turning away and leaving.
he paused, “isn’t it precious?”
And then I could feel it too, the faint thudding of my heart against his arms,
his hands that he had laid now flat on my chest. It was low at first, but then
it seemed to pound harder and harder in his embrace, against the arms that
trapped me and kept me close to him. Claudia didn’t respond, she merely locked
eyes with me, her piercing gaze solemn and meaningful. Then she turned swiftly
and left without a sound.
“You remember how you wanted her?”
omg @lestvt ‘s tags: #i love that you can tell what kind of parents theyre gonna be based on their faces #louis: omg this child is so cute i would literally do anything for her…….. #lestat: im gonna teach her to murder So Good
like I lol’d….. but then I cried. =D
“Just so, one loop over the other, then under and through…” he said, the laces of Claudia’s shoes forming into a bow under his nimble fingers. “And pull tight, ma chérie. Simple as that.” Without a moment’s hesitation, her little fingers tugged the laces back open and tried now, for the very first time, to tie them on her own.
They sat on the carpet, her body curled forward in concentration, whispering the directions again to herself as he smiled down above her. He reached out and tucked a stray golden curl behind her ear and she spared him not one bit of attention.
In the warm light of the lamps, I watched them from across the room. We had been together now for some four years, Lestat and I. In that time, I had rarely seen this expression on his face. When he seduced his victims it was with rapt attention, his tongue flicking at his fangs imperceptibly to them, so vulgar to me. He would slink towards me catlike after killing and it was similarly intoxicating. I would let him take what he wanted, and there was lust for him, his wandering hands and whispered praise, but was that love? It left me satisfied, guilty, confused.
This was new, he was patient with the child, embraced her not to consume but with compassion. Their laughter lent a sparkle to the space I had shared with him alone. Together they brought things out of me I assumed I did not have.
“I did it!” said Claudia, her face upturned to him brightly. “Bravo!” he applauded with polite clapping as if at an opera. She shifted position, undid her bow and busied herself with tying it again.
It was in that moment that he glanced at me, his smile still tender and gentle, I felt my heart trip and stop for an instant. He waved me over and I came, entranced. He gestured for my foot. “Oh no, it looks as if,” in one fluid motion he hooked a finger in and opened my shoelaces. “Papa Noir’s laces need tying, whatever shall we-”
“Me,” said Claudia, starting already for the laces. “I’ll fix them for you.” I felt Lestat’s hand on my ankle, his nail lightly stroking my skin, then move up, squeezing my calf as we watched her together. That was the moment I fell in love with him.
I am SUCH a sucker for the ‘grisly, damaged adult man who has to suddenly care for and protect an abandoned child and it’s NOT creepy’ trope. like give me more reluctant makeshift dads pleaze
A short summary of Interview with the Vampire, in case you haven’t watched or read it.
♡InktoberVC day 9: David face palming!