He found you standing on the tips of your toes, arms stretched as far as they’d go, fingers grazing the edge of a shelf. You hadn’t heard him come in. Too focused on whatever prize sat just out of reach.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lestat’s voice wasn’t unkind, but it had that lilting mockery he rarely noticed. It carried the same tone he used with stray cats or wine labels he didn’t respect. He leaned against the doorframe, watching.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t, not fully. The words wouldn’t come out right, not all at once, not how you wanted. You only grunted, reaching higher, the pads of your fingers sliding uselessly along the wood.

“Ah,” he said, crossing the room in three long strides. “That’s not for you.”

He plucked the object down easily. A book. A box. A bottle. It didn’t matter. It was something he’d put up there on purpose; not because it was dangerous, necessarily, but because it wasn’t yours. And now it wasn’t even visible anymore, tucked behind his back as if it had never existed.

You stared at him. He could feel your eyes even when he turned slightly away, feigning distraction.

“You’re too little,” he added, not realizing the way the words scraped.

You were quiet. Still looking at him. Not angry, but something sharp and unsettled—some early shape of humiliation without the word for it. You didn’t cry. That would’ve made it simpler. Instead you just stood there, fingers still half-curled like they hadn’t caught up to your brain yet.

“Oh, don’t sulk,” he said, glancing back. “You’ll be taller one day. And you’ll have more sense by then, hopefully.”

There was no real venom in it. He didn’t think twice about the phrase.

But you did. You blinked slowly, like you were trying to understand the sting. You didn’t know what patronizing meant, not yet. But your chest felt hot in that clumsy, childish way — the kind of heat that didn’t quite turn into words. Just discomfort. Just knowing something inside had been touched without permission.

Lestat sighed, not cruel but impatient. He crouched down to your height and tapped a finger under your chin.

“Chin up. Life’s full of things you can’t reach yet.”

Then, like he was doing you a favor, he offered his hand.

You didn’t take it right away.

And he didn’t notice that either.