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Louis de Pointe du Lac | Jacob Anderson | Interview with a vampire | Bygones
Two hundred years and counting. That is how long Louis has been on this earth—decades upon decades of ill misfortunes and fleeting 15-minute episodes of contentment and peace. More than two hundred years on this god-forsaken planet, yet your face continues to stalk his thoughts like a drug.
He remembered evidently the way you smiled—how your dimples would quirk as your eyes sheepishly fluttered when he showered you in the dearest of compliments. They were the highlight of his days, and Louis remembered all of it, especially the first date.
It was night out, beyond dark, so much so that the two of you would frequently stumble while trekking to your hidden location beneath the glistening stars. He isn't proud of it now, but looking closer at things, he could have been less ashamed of you and met more frequently within the daytime, but the times were sacred back then, and he was young and cautious. He had to catch you four times that night before insisting on leading the way, and when you reached your goal destination, he covered your eyes.
You had asked him, "What," in return, but he merely chuckled hoarsely and gave you a kiss on your cheek.
Louis smiles…oh how soft your skin was…
It was the night of a many first of the two of you, but nothing could upstage it being the night he confessed to you. A mere six words, double that of the usual endearing three, and yet they changed your lives forever…especially yours. He still recalls how your voice cracked with disbelief and joy when he uttered them to you—how the crickets chirped with applause around you while the moon beamed a light of approval onto you…His most cherished memory. And of course, he could never forget the kiss you be-granted his lips after that, would never forget. It was slow and endearing, the most passionate he had ever been with anyone—most vulnerable: more than with Lestat. You're bodies had intermingled beyond that of just flesh. You had claimed his soul, his destiny, something Lestat only had the pleasure of holding onto temporarily.
He regretted deeply not holding onto you more dearly. He could have fought harder, should have! Sure, the times were cruel to people his kind, and it didn't make it any better that he never held the courage to visit you out of the ours of the damned, but still! You were more than just the love of his life; his actions should have replicated and been in tune with his words—his promises. Louis was young and dumb—but in love, and because of that, your veiled relationship only lasted 3 years. An ironic outcome for how high of a standard he held you.
If only he had gotten you out when he promised…had given you that happily ever after in that cottage. Maybe then…only then would Lestat not have gotten to you—would the world not have gotten the chance to degrade you: your very own family…
But he didn't. He didn't, and that was his greatest regret. Louis was 25 when it happened, cursed that way after that enchanting night with Lestat. You were pushing 30, and it was 6 years after the breakup. He knew that because he never did stop loving you. He stalked you like a personal guardian angel. Though it appears he was an ass at the job because despite seeing you once every week, he still had no clue about the internal war you were waging within yourself. If anything, it only gave his infatuation with you over to Lestat. That is what set things truly ablaze.
To this day, Louis doesn't know what Lestat did to you, nor did anyone he asks, but the morning after, he was there, just standing in front of him with the most brim smile in town, eerie in all its glory. He should have instantly known then that something was wrong, but having been with the unpredictable Lestat de Lioncourt for so long, he merely grew docile to the older's eccentric behavior, something he repented for the next day. It was 2:00AM on 8/5/179 when they discovered the body, a mere year from the new century. Of course, to Louis, this was no big deal, having already deducted that it was one of Lestat's many feeding victims, but when he heard of where the body was located and how they had passed, everything changed. There were only 2 people aside from him that he firmly believed to know that place: You and Lestat. And if Lestat was okay…then…
He had to see for himself. I mean, it could have been literally anybody. But fate wasn't so kind for him to be mistaken this time. It was you.
Your body looked bruised and drained, and at first sight, he instantly thought of Lestat, but your body showed no signs of struggle, and that was a big deal, considering it was hanging from a thin rope. It was damaging to swallow, but you had killed yourself, hanged from the tree you and him had carved your initials into, a wretched sight.
He would never forgive himself for that, even up to this day. You haunted his dreams, both the good and bad. That gleaming smile of yours…It brightened his day and made him mourn for the loss of what could have been if only he was brave enough…
Lestat had once again taken something precious from him, and like the lonely fool he was—is—he continued to remain by him…
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