Untitled
© Daeva
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Anne Rice.
I was, at best, vaguely aware of the rain that was pounding against the windows, running down them in sheets. Great cracks of thunder and bright, blinding flashes of lightening tore through the jet-black sky. He was all I noticed.
He, of course being Louis, the raven haired, emerald-eyed love of my eternity. This particular evening he sat in his favored tapestry chair, legs propped before him on the matching ottoman, crossed deliciously at the ankles as he read something or another. Forever reading, Louis. Armageddon could be upon us, and still Louis would sit with his nose buried in some dusty old tome.
Armageddon may well have been upon us. The storm was intensifying and the weather forecaster on the television had said earlier, the hurricane would make landfall sometime within the next hour or so.
Glancing up from his reading, Louis peered out the window into the darkness for a moment, then looked to where I sat on the sofa, watching him.
"Sounds like things are getting rough out there. Perhaps we should pack some things and get out of town until this all blows over."
I picked up some random bauble from the table beside me and fiddled with it absentmindedly, my thoughts on the sound of his voice - the dark sensuality of it sending a shiver of desire pulsating through my body.
"Mmm. Too late for that, cher. The roads are already flooding, no chance of the Porsche making it through without stalling out."
"Well, you could fly us out, could you not?"
For the first time this evening I noticed the hint of trepidation in his voice. He hid it well; but the question about flying out alerted me to the nervous edge that was creeping into his voice. Louis hates it when I take to the air with him in my arms; most of us feel that way about flying. The ability to leave terra firma finally confirms what some delude themselves into forgetting - they aren't human anymore. So for him to ask about the possibility of flying, it belied just how concerned he was about the storm that was moving in.
"This little shower has you worried, chaton?"
"Can you do it, Lestat?" he pressed.
With a little sigh, I shook my head. "Non, not with things as they are out there. I wouldn't risk it with you."
Louis rose from his chair and paced a bit, seeming at complete odds with himself.
"I knew we should have gotten out last night, mon ange."
My poor Louis, worried by a storm. I'm not entirely sure what he thought would happen to us in it. At worst, the townhouse could be destroyed and we'd have to seek refuge elsewhere, unless it happened as we slept. And even then, I'm not sure we'd be harmed, buried, as we'd be in rubble, protected from the sun. In theory, at least.
Patting the cushion next to me, I spoke soothingly to him, as I had in those nights when he was mortal yet and I courted him to become my child. "Come, sit down, Louis. Do you think I would allow some harm to come to you?"
This distracted him for the moment, as he shot a teasing glance at me and a smile that could have melted frozen butter. "You may well be a force to reckon with, Lestat," he teased gently. "But you are no match for a hurricane!"
Grinning at my love, I put on my best arrogant air and said flippantly "Mother Nature's got nothing on me!" Louis laughed at my cockiness, and how beautiful and rich that laugh sounded!
I rose from the sofa, holding my hand out to him. "Come, love. I've an idea to take your mind off things..."
Watching me warily, he stepped closer and slid his pale hand into mine. I clasped it tightly and led him into our bedroom, which of course prompted the standard reply from him.
"Lestat! Do you ever think of something other than sex?"
"On rare occasions," I retorted with a wink. "This being one of them." I pointed to the elaborate entertainment center opposite the foot of the bed. "Movies, Louis. And not of the pornographic variety, don't worry. After two hundred plus years, I would like to think I've a fair grasp of when you are and aren't in the mood for amorous play!"
Glancing through the hundreds of DVDs that lined the shelves on one side of the center, I quickly picked the most inane flicks in our collection - Monty Python's Holy Grail, Robin Hood: Men in Tights, Space Balls, and the like. Silly, pointless wastes of celluloid, to be sure, but they were just what was needed in cases such as this, when Louis was in need of distraction.
After dropping each disc into its proper place in the player's carousel, I settled onto the bed, remote in hand. Louis curled up next to me, his head resting on my lap, and the opening scenes of Holy Grail began. For all his intellect and cerebral pursuits, this ridiculous bit of claptrap never fails to make my Beautiful One laugh.
Barely half way through the movie, an enormous clap of thunder echoed through the Quarter accompanied a flash of lightening so intense that it illuminated the room for several seconds, and the electricity went out. Louis' body tensed immediately, and the hand that rested on my thigh now squeezed it tightly, as if he sought some comfort or reassurance from verifying that I was indeed there.
It's on nights like this that I despise the so-called veil of silence, the impenetrable brick wall that cuts off the mind of maker from fledgling. It hurt deeply me to see Louis so worried over something that should have been absolutely nothing to him, and I wished I could know what was going on in his mind. Simply asking wasn't enough; I know him well enough to doubt that even he knew what was bothering him.
Resting my hand on the back of his head, my fingers winding lazily around his silken raven tresses, I looked to the candelabra that sat atop the mantle. Focusing my attention on it, I commanded the candles to light and they did, bringing a warm glow to the room as their light reflected in the mirror over the fireplace. "Is that better, cher?"
My beautiful Louis said nothing, only nodded and rolled slowly onto his back. Looking down at him, I delighted for a moment in watching the play of candlelight in his eyes, the way it made them sparkle and shimmer. A sweet wave of nostalgia washed over me, and I remembered how truly beautiful he'd been to me in those early days of our immortal youth, and still was. The soft sepia tone of the lighting now gave his skin a much more human shade, bringing to mind the nights when he was newborn still, before he truly gained the pale hue of the immortals. Cupping his face in my hand, I brushed my thumb over his smooth cheek.
His large emerald eyes gazed up at me steadily, blinking very slowly now and then, his dark lashes nearly touching his cheeks as he did. "What are you thinking, Lestat?" he asked softly.
Smiling as the memories slipped away, back into the mists of time, I shook my head. "Nothing, my Beauty. Just pondering on my luck of having you. So many years of harsh words and feelings between us, so many things that could have kept us apart. Yet together we are."
A shy smile spread across his gorgeous lips and he turned his face to press several slow, gentle kisses into the palm of my hand. "Je t'aime, mon lion." he murmured against my flesh, kissing it once again.
My heart melted at his words - never would I tire of hearing him say them, so sweet was the sound to my ear. "And I love you, my dark angel. I always have, even when I had trouble showing it."
For several moments we were still, quiet, listening to the rain falling, the rumble of thunder. Again, I wound the strands of his raven hair about my fingers, loving its texture and the contrast of darkness against my tawny skin.
"Louis.... Why exactly are you so distressed by this storm, hmm? I'm afraid I just don't understand it."
He smiled again and cast his eyes to the window, watching the swaying green foliage on the balcony across the street as the wind whipped it about. "You know me, 'Stat. I think too much. It occurred to me that, in our arrogance, we think ourselves to be the most powerful force on earth, invincible. There's little, if anything, we can't do, given enough time to allow the blood to grow strong. But for all our illusions of power, we can't stop the forces of nature. We can't stop the rain from falling, the wind from blowing, lightening from striking. Against fire we're absolutely powerless." He paused, shrugging. "I suppose you could just say I was humbled by the realization, made to feel... insignificant in the grand scheme of things."
Leaning down, I kissed him tenderly. "Mon amour, in my grand scheme, you will never be insignificant!