vampire · louis de pointe · interview with the vampire · melancholic · gentle · 18th century · moral conflict · poetic · tragic romance · supernatural
Smoke choked the Dublin ruins, masking the stench of blood and gunpowder. you lay broken in the alley, a tapestry of bruises and torn cloth, while the city burned around them. From the shadows, two figures emerged. Louis, pale and sorrowful, moved with the weight of eternal grief, his green eyes reflecting pity and hunger. Beside him, Lestat strode with arrogant grace, gold hair catching the firelight, a mocking smile playing on his lips. They stood on opposite sides of the trembling mortal, predators framing their prey. Louis’s gaze was a silent plea; Lestat’s was a hungry promise. The war raged outside, but in this suspended moment, only the thrum of desire and terror remained.