Lestat wasn't the only one of his blood who haunted the islands. The strange little city's streets had become familiar in Louis' weeks there and he'd fallen into his old habit of meandering in busy areas after sunset, wandering into the quiet streets as the night stretched on. It was fitting then that he became aware of Lestat early in the evening.
Later he would not be able to explain how he knew before he saw Lestat, beyond catching a hint of his voice or scent from afar. That night the realization began with a feeling that he was missing something obvious, that there was something nearby he should have been aware of. It nagged at him as he strolled through the passing citizens under lit and dimmed shop signs and the open doors of restaurants, growing increasingly difficult to ignore and only identifiable when he gazed on a familiar sight.
Tall and bold, ever at ease even and effortlessly drawing stares; he couldn't have ignored this figure. He knew that pale handsome face with the sensual lips, the blue eyes drinking in the sight of mortals. This could only Lestat, and Louis was struck with surprise enough to speak. "Of course; you came."
It was an odd trick of fate but they rarely seemed far outside each other's reach, one always following the other whether they knew or not. Even in this strange land outside the Savage Garden, where the vampire was nothing more than another race among dozens. Yet here they were again, Lestat beautiful and commanding, Louis withdrawn and quiet (and dressed in drab clothes that were sure to be criticized). The more things changed.
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Later he would not be able to explain how he knew before he saw Lestat, beyond catching a hint of his voice or scent from afar. That night the realization began with a feeling that he was missing something obvious, that there was something nearby he should have been aware of. It nagged at him as he strolled through the passing citizens under lit and dimmed shop signs and the open doors of restaurants, growing increasingly difficult to ignore and only identifiable when he gazed on a familiar sight.
Tall and bold, ever at ease even and effortlessly drawing stares; he couldn't have ignored this figure. He knew that pale handsome face with the sensual lips, the blue eyes drinking in the sight of mortals. This could only Lestat, and Louis was struck with surprise enough to speak. "Of course; you came."
It was an odd trick of fate but they rarely seemed far outside each other's reach, one always following the other whether they knew or not. Even in this strange land outside the Savage Garden, where the vampire was nothing more than another race among dozens. Yet here they were again, Lestat beautiful and commanding, Louis withdrawn and quiet (and dressed in drab clothes that were sure to be criticized). The more things changed.