{ he's read stoker if she ever asks. claire reminds louis of the boldness he once saw in miss lily. she'd held skill beyond what she was allowed to displayed in the saloon. her intuition alone. thinking of her makes him remorseful of her death, something of which he wished could have been avoided. it had taken louis far too long to understand one of the masks he put up back then had been playing up the macho man expected from someone like him. she saw right through his bullshit.

regardless, she had been one the first to give him no judgement on what he suspected she knew of his habits to pay only to talk, and perhaps he is still seeking that non-judgement he can never quite grasp. daniel had criticized him for loving lestat. questioned what was wrong with him and still he didn't get it. he considers what to say, how much. louis decides to keep it simple, mostly for his sake. }

In my time he's supposed to be dead. We hurt each other greatly by the end. I shouldn't, but I find myself glad to have him back. I don't know what will become of us here. I'm willing to find out.