His Louis. It did seem as though he was ever around in in a decaying orbit, drawn to him and destined to impact in fiery disaster. Not that he ever particularly meant to cause the other vampire strife, but it was hard to deny the pattern that had repeated in an ongoing fractal spiral throughout the years. Just now though it was all too easy to lose himself in the moment. The smile on Louis' face was enough to steal away all his attention, fix him in the present.

His hands lifted, remarkably delicate a touch, fingertips brushing over skin as cool as his own, along the fine angles of cheekbones. There was no need to look at the other vampire with eyes that fixed and focused like he was trying to commit those feature to memory -- he'd done that long ago, after all. A brighter smile, a full on burst of sun to the tentative part in the clouds of Louis' expression. "My beautiful Louis," murmured affectionately before Lestat moved to pull him into an embrace proper.

"This place must suit you. You look well," warmly spoken, before he added, "Except your clothes. Old habits only get older, I suppose."