[ A better man, or even a better vampire, would find an ounce of sympathy in his heart for Armand's smirk. Lestat's eyes glimmer with the kind of mercurial playfulness that usually presages some casual cat's claw swipe of cruelty. ]

And what would you do without those captivating eyes of yours?

[ Lestat raises a gloved hand, thumb poised as if he means to brush a snowflake from under Armand's eye, but he stops himself with a knowing moue about his mouth. ]

I forgot how they swallow the light...as if they were starved for it.

[ Lestat drops his hand and gestures on with a gracious tilt of his head that manages, in how perfectly gracious it is, to be a mockery of graciousness. ]

You'll adapt.

[ You did before lingers unspoken. ]