behind the curtain @ipraytowhaticannotsee - Tumblr Blog

will lestat secretly be attracted to bestie, but he's too stubborn diva to say so? 🤭🤫👀

not only is he too stubborn to admit it, he's also ready to crash out about it <3

*I'm imagining this a few days after Lestat and Louis reunite. I have limited information on what that will be like bc season 3 hasn't come out yet so bare with me and the assumptions I've made :)*

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The yellow glow of the bedside lamp seems to serve the opposite of its purpose, illuminating just enough of the hotel room to create the kind of shadows that are easy to distort into imaginary monsters.

You let out a breath before rolling off of your back and onto your side. There's no point in worrying about nonexistent problems when a very real one is sitting on the nightstand next to you.

Even though you only stopped drinking a few hours ago, you can already feel the dull ache settling behind your skull. You ignore the early signs of a hangover as you push your weight onto an elbow. After settling in this new position, you reach for the note that was waiting for you on the bedside table. Went for a walk with Lestat. Will be back before morning. Love, Louis.

You sigh. Everything that happened in Dubai left you so drained, you didn't have the energy to convince Louis to continue living without Lestat. And even if you had been up for the argument, Armand's 77 years of lying and literal brain washing made Lestat look like a damn prince.

Ugh--another consequence that you can blame on Armand. Every time you think of another one, it adds to sharp ache that jabs at your ribs every time his name finds you in passing. It's a pain so specific you're not sure you've ever felt anything like it before, but you have spent the last few days trying to convince yourself to officially label the feeling as hatred.

Whatever. Even if you can't convince yourself that the sensation is hatred, you know that the feeling is being fueled by anger...and you know you're a lot angrier now than before you fell asleep.

Louis leaving while you slept. This would have never happened in Dubai.

The thought swells uneasily in your chest. In a desperate attempt at dismissing the feeling, you force yourself to sit up fully. You cross your legs beneath you, doing your best to ward off internal bitterness. Louis will be back eventually, and you need to be aware of your thoughts.

There is one thing that has helped you be a little more neutral...

Sighing, you glance at the hotel room's door before bringing a hand to your neck. It takes you a moment to find the thin chain, and another to find the cylinder pendent. You squeeze the vial between your fingers, letting the small engravings carved into the metal indent themselves into your skin.

Armand had once cared enough to give it you. For Louis's sake or his own, it doesn't matter. He had been willing to bleed for you.

The even sound of three steady knocks pulls you out of your thoughts. You tuck the vial beneath your shirt before pushing yourself to stand.

Weird. Louis wouldn't need to knock first...unless he's trying to give you space, or maybe he was in such a hurry to go on his late night tryst, he forgot his room key.

Instead of opening the room's door right away, you look through the peephole. It's late enough for a knock on the door to be suspicious.

What? You pull away from the door immediately, mentally cursing Louis for whatever he thinks he's doing by sending Lestat here.

You let yourself dwell on your irritation for another second before pulling open the door.

Lestat is standing significantly closer to the doorway than you expected him to be. The proximity is enough to briefly throw you. In a desperate attempt at recovering, you force yourself to focus on him. His blonde hair is styled in loose waves and he's wearing a dark, oversized button down shirt.

Some overly petty part of your subconscious is irrationally annoyed by the fact that he looks more put together than you. The more inebriated version of yourself could have picked out nicer pajamas or at the very least let Louis wipe off your smudged make up with a hotel wash cloth.

"Uh..." You start, your voice distorted by the dryness of your throat, "I don't have any small talk for this situation, so I'm just going to directly ask what you're doing here."

The corner of his mouth tugs itself upwards at your reaction. Something tells you that he's enjoying your uncertainty. "I didn't think you were capable of being so unsure of yourself."

The smugness pressed into his voice feels like a challenge. "This isn't me," you defend, "This is the unspecified number of shots I had a few hours ago." As if aggravated by the reminder, the ache behind your forehead worsens with no warning. You squeeze your eyes shut until the sensation passes. "My head is pounding. Louis isn't here."

Even though you've been doing all you can to seem mature enough to handle the ever changing circumstances of Louis's life, you begin to push the door to the hotel room shut. While this is an incredibly uncordial response to Lestat's sudden appearance, you're sure Louis will accept your hangover as an excuse.

Lestat presses his hand against the door before the hinges even get a chance to creek. "I know," he says, a self-satisfied smile playing at his lips, "He was with me." He presents the answer like some grand divulgence. You're ready to tell him about your note, but Lestat continues before you can speak, "Does that bother you?"

The question digs into you with an unnerving sharpness. Yes, it's an objective fact that you don't love how much time Louis is spending with Lestat of all people, but you're working through it, and the last thing you're going to do is let Lestat get to you.

Instead of answering, you sigh. "Why are you here?"

"Louis is on his way," he answers, "He needed to pick up a few things for your current condition."

Oh. You almost convinced yourself that Louis was abandoning you, when in reality he was getting you things for your hangover. Still though, that doesn't explain Lestat's presence. "Why aren't you with him now?"

"Louis insisted," the response is flat, "He said you'd be upset if you woke up alone."

Something uneasy wedges itself in your chest. Lestat being aware of such a personal vulnerability leaves a sharp warmth crawling up your neck. "I was fine." The weakness of your defense only adds to your chagrin. You push past your discomfort as quickly as you can manage, "You can come in, if you want."

Before anything else can be said, you take a step back, holding the door open despite the instincts begging you to do the opposite.

Lestat enters the space without reservation, letting the door fall shut behind him. He begins to examine the room with an unnerving openness. You find yourself incredibly grateful for the fact that your pre-going-out mess of makeup and hair products are hidden in the bathroom.

He continues forward, his steps even and unbothered until his eyes land on the hotel room's bed. Hm. Maybe you should have straightened out the sheets on your side of the bed before answering the door.

"A single bed." Not a question, but a bitter self confirmation.

His annoyance is so transparent you have to press your lips together to keep from openly grinning. "Yeah," you respond, voice sickeningly innocent as you parrot his earlier question, "Does that bother you?"

He snaps his head towards you, his expression so distinctly irritated you can't help but feel like you're winning some unspoken competition.

Still though, probably not the best idea to anger him before Louis gets here. "Relax," you mumble, "It was a joke."

"I bet," he scoffs, "I bet it's a joke every evening when the two of you end up beneath the same bedsheets."

You blink, completely unsure of how to react. Lestat can't possibly be jealous of you. "I know you're aware enough of Louis's preferences to know that things aren't like that at all."

"Please," he sighs, tone exasperated in its sharpness, "With features like yours I can't be sure of anything."

And you used to think Armand was a lot. "You can be sure of that."

His eyes briefly narrow as he regards you. "Really?"

"Really." You cross your arms in front of your chest as a way of steadying yourself. "Regardless of your relationship with Louis, ours remains the same."

Lestat takes a step in your direction. You have to dig your fingers into your forearms to keep from looking away. "You sound so sure of yourself."

If there's one thing you really don't want to give him, it's the satisfaction of making you feel insecure in your relationship with Louis. "Well, I think you know better than anyone that Louis has a hard time letting people go."

"Is that what you think?" He takes another step towards you. "That I'm nothing more than Louis's bad habit?"

Great...you've once again stumbled onto a lecture about the intensity of the bond that exists between maker and fledgling. You're not uninterested in the details of vampirism you've managed to learn about, but something about hearing about the supernatural force that justifies Louis's returning to Lestat no matter what is mentally exhausting. "I know about the maker-fledgling bond."

Lestat continues to walk forward, only stopping once he's directly in front of you. It takes more mental effort than it should to stand your ground. "And do you think that's all there is to us?"

You're not sure what you're supposed to do with the question. If you're being honest with yourself, their relationship does seem much more complex than some magical force bonding them together, but with all the stories you've heard about Lestat, you think you'd rather see it that way.

"What I think doesn't matter." The response is a bit of a cop-out, but it's the only answer you can trust yourself to express.

For a moment, Lestat just stares at you. Then, in a voice that's as quiet as it is irritated, he says, "It matters to Louis."

Something else you have no idea how to react to. With how possessive Lestat is of Louis, and with how open Lestat has been about not wanting you around...the admission feels uncharacteristically vulnerable. Maybe it's some kind of trick to lure you into a false sense of security.

Before you can answer, Lestat extends an arm, his palm just barely resting against your check and his thumb wiping at the skin under your left eye.

The suddenness of the gesture leaves you so stiff you can't immediately react. Once common sense returns to you, you take a step back. "What--"

"Mascara," he holds out his hand, letting you see the dark smudge now staining the side of his thumb, "under your eye."

Right. Not suspicious at all. "Uh--tha--" You're cut off by the automated sound of a hotel room door's lock moving out of place.

You beam, practically running up to the door as it's pushed open. "Louis."

He lets you pull him into a hug. Louis places a hand against your back, the two plastic bags he's holding crinkling with the motion. "You're awake."

"Mhm," you agree, pulling away from him, "But it hasn't been too long."

"Really? So you weren't mad when you woke up and saw I wasn't here?"

Maybe you do need some time apart from Louis. He's starting to know you to an extent that's unnerving. "I'm a lot more understanding than that."

Louis gives you a look that's a little too aware. "I've noticed." He walks further into the room, glancing at Lestat. "Was he good company?"

You pause in mock contemplation before answering, "He was something."

Lestat throws a halfhearted glare in your direction, "I did nothing to your pet."

"Pet?"

Louis places a hand against your shoulder. You're not sure if the gesture is meant to reassure you or keep you from trying to hit Lestat. "Ignore him, ma chére." When you don't ease, Louis's hold on you tightens. "Lestat, we've discussed this. If you can't let her be, then I have nothing to say to you."

Louis's defense feels definite, but it isn't enough to make you feel better. "It's okay," you say, your voice bordering on mockingly polite, "I know he's sensitive."

Lestat's jaw clenches. "My patience is wearing thin."

You sigh at the empty threat. Louis is taking their reunion slowly. He has no ground to stand on if he kills you. "Kill me and then what? Louis stops talking to you for another 77 years?"

"Stop," Louis interrupts the petty bickering before it can turn into something else. He pulls on your shoulder, making you step back slightly so that you're closer to him. You have a feeling the gesture is more of a reminder to Lestat than anything else.

"Be nice." Louis smooths his thumb against your shoulder in an attempt at making the lighthearted scolding seem even softer.

"That was nice," you say, "I didn't say anything about his hair or wannabe grunge outfit."

Lestat gives you a dirty look before beginning to speak aggressively in French. You've picked up a few phrases from Louis and Armand, but not enough to make out any of the words that Lestat is rushing through.

Louis sighs. "Lestat, she defends herself. If you don't want to deal with it, leave her alone." The response feels like a victory. You press your lips together to keep from seeming too smug. Louis squeezes your shoulder once before returning his attention to you. "Why don't you eat something? I brought you your favorite hangover food and some ibuprofen."

You smile, taking the shopping bags from Louis. You sit down on the room's small sofa before setting the bags down on the coffee table directly in front of the couch. Inside of the first bag, there's a wrapped sandwich and french fries inside.

"Grilled cheese and fries," you say, "You so get me."

"I know." Louis is so content to be able to agree with you it immediately makes Lestat rolls his eyes.

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first post divorce fic omg, also bestie's face card being so lethal every vampire that isn't louis immediately feels threatened by it <3

also it feels so unnatural for armand not to be here 😭