@evilanew: We may fight like enemies, but deep down, we both know that our hearts beat for each other. (x)
chests heaving, the silence between them still vibrating with the last shreds of fury. the room looked as though a summer storm had torn through it. the bed lay in ruin beneath them, nothing left but a haphazard mound of wood and fabric and tangled legs beneath the sheets. antoinette’s perfume, still faint in the corners like a ghost refusing to leave. the songbird had long since scampered onto the balcony, her heartbeat quick and trembling.
let her rot there. let her soak in her humiliation. let her catch a cold and shiver her way to an early grave.
lestat, beneath him, wore triumph like jewelry. already, in the slant of his mouth, in the bright, wicked shine of his eyes, louis had seen it: that deep, incurable smugness blooming the instant he’d kicked down the damn door and dragged his maker out from under that vile woman’s hands. he’d wanted to carve that look off lestat’s face. kiss it away, tear it away, fuck it away. each breathless laugh had only stoked him further, until rage had folded in on itself, collapsing once more into needwantlove.
nigh on seven years of silence, brittle and cold, had cracked open all at once.
vicious and petty, louis bit down hard on a familiar collarbone, a beloved architecture of bone and sinew.
“my heart beats in spite of you. not because of you.”
there, one last twist of the knife, a lie bundled up in a nice gift box with a satin bow. his grip tightened in angel-bright curls, stained mouths hoovering mere inches from one another. a lifetime away.
claudia was going to be furious with him.
“you gonna kiss it better?”
