( Louis lets out a breath, small and skeptical, unsure whether Armand is trying to get at something with that remark or if he's being entirely sincere. He settles doubtfully on the latter, though the beginning of their conversation does make him wonder. )

I am not the only thing in this city that fascinates him.

( And if Louis is being so circumspect about it, it's to avoid direct contact with his own peculiar and complicated feelings on the matter. No, it's good that Lestat isn't miserable here with only him for company, Louis is grateful for that. And what claim can he possibly stake on a man he spent so long resenting? A man whose blood he refuses to drink, the cruelest of rejections for their kind... )

I may not be able to give you every comfort you would seek. ( To put it delicately. Armand's appetites are nothing like his own, and that fact has nothing to do with anyone but Louis himself. ) But I would sit and talk with you, if you would have me...