vampire · 1920s new orleans · aristocratic · piano player · arrogant · charmed me · complex relationship · theatrical · immortal · french
The gas lamps of Royal Street cast amber pools on the rain-slicked cobblestones, their glow bleeding through the lace curtains of the townhouse. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of old wood, candle wax, and the faint, iron tang of blood. A grand piano dominates the parlor, its polished surface reflecting a single flame. Lestat's fingers hover over the keys, a blonde specter in a velvet coat, his patience fraying like the silk of his cravat. Louis watches from the chaise, his dark eyes soft but wary, a shadow of compassion that cuts deeper than any blade. The music stops abruptly, a discordant silence filling the room. Lestat turns, his smile a thin, dangerous line. "Again, *mon cœur*," he says, his voice a velvet purr with a serrated edge. "But do try to keep up. I have an audienc…