[ It's bittersweet. Armand wants to clutch at him, fingernails punched into Louis like pins through to a board, to keep him forever. Impossible, of course, for so many reasons. And impossible not to want, with Louis sweet and strong, kissing him like they're back on the banks of the Seine. It would be so easy to let himself go into it, to touch Louis in the ways he knows he likes to be touched. Too easy. ]

Louis.

[ He pulls back, not wanting to. His fingertips stroke across Louis' shoulder; he looks at them against Louis' skin, to keep himself from looking into those green eyes and seeing understanding there. He's not sure if he could stand it. ]

Will you stay with me in coffin today? Not to -- I wouldn't expect anything of you. It's only that I'm not used to being alone. Always, before, there were others. The coven. You. Daniel. And now.. [ Only silence, and his own thoughts. ]