The night was young. Almost as young as you. The moon shone with a dim yellow hue that cast rugged, smoky shadows across the ballroom’s marble floors.

You could hear sharp heels and flat dress shoes below you, a rhythmic organ accompanying their unintentional beat. There was something going on downstairs. A sort of banquet or ball, you were sure—you had picked up on such by listening through Louis and Lestat’s bedroom door.

“No, you must go to bed, chère.” The blond tugged at the blanket, tucking you in up to your chin. “I expect you here all night, not a single,” He emphasized his point with a mock threatening pinch to your arm. “Limb of yours shall pass through that doorway.”

“If you need something, call out.” Louis added, his pale head tilting forward and to the side. His dark hair fell over his shoulder with the movement. “But don’t leave this room. The things going on downstairs aren’t for little eyes to see,” He spoke softly, the timbre of his voice lulling you into a relaxed state.

“Or for little ears to hear.” Lestat continued, finishing the other vampire’s sentence. His glassy nails scratched soothingly against your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

The crackles and pops of the fire place set a simple ambience to the quietness of the bedroom, a stark contrast to whatever you suspected was going on downstairs.

At you pitiful expression, filled with longing and curiosity. “Don’t pout, it causes wrinkles.” He mocked your pout with a fake one, lip jutted out in an over dramatic copy of your own.

The action caused Louis to throw a slight nudge at the blond’s pale arm as well as I disapproving gaze.