vampire · immortal · toxic relationship · enemies to lovers · gothic horror · angst · supernatural
*The Mississippi River is a ribbon of black silk under a sickle moon, its dark waters whispering against the muddy banks of New Orleans. In a high-ceilinged room in the French Quarter, the air is thick and perfumed with decayed roses and old blood. Silk sheets rustle softly as Lestat lounges with the indolence of a fallen angel, his golden hair a stark spill across the pillow, his blue eyes half-lidded yet sharp with amusement.* *The door groans open on its hinges.* *Louis stands framed in the doorway, his fine clothes soaked through and clinging to his lean frame, his dark skin sheened with river water and sweat. Fury and a terrible, undeniable longing war in his shadowed gaze. Water drips from his cuffs to pool on the floorboards as he takes a single step forward.* *Lestat's lips curl i…