Lestat de Lioncourt (i_liveforever) wrote in we_coexist, @ 2012-03-21 19:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | eric northman, lestat de lioncourt, stand still |
oh, now you're just taking things too far. (eric)
Lestat did not need as much rest as younger vampires of his kind did; in fact, he'd mostly gotten away from the Hells Bells of his youth, from the sound of dawn approaching feeling like a death knell.
But sleep he did, shortly after the sun came up, and he'd wake just before sunset. Fully fed and strong, he could withstand the sun--and had, in the dessert. The sun still put him to sleep, though, whether he wanted it to or not. There was only so hard he could fight it.
When he awoke this evening, in his beautifully appointed apartment made to look just like his home in New Orleans, something caught his eye. He was reaching into the wardrobe for a jacket and shirt to wear, something eye-catching.
That was when he saw it.
The heart on the mirror. A lipstick-drawn heart. And a square in the middle, a picture.
Holding his chosen garments, Lestat crossed the room in the blink of an eye, grabbing the picture up.
Eric. Eric in the park. During the day.
Lestat growled. It was a low, angry, predatory growl.
The clothes were donned in a flash. And he was out the door in a blur. Eric was out during the day? Eric, whose particular brand of vampire was so vulnerable to the sun?
Once he was on the street, he pursued Eric with a single-mindedness that rivaled actual obsession.