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Daniel is on the phone in their living room, talking with his assistant about something related to his newest book. And Armand is bored.
With Daniel busy, Armand drapes himself over the couch like a sad little worm and turns his poutiest face toward his fledgling. Sadly, it’s not enough to make Daniel wrap up his phone call. So, Armand decides to take drastic measures.
He slides out of his worm-like position and stands in front of Daniel, who peers up at him with furrowed brows.
“What?” Daniel mouths silently.
Armand smiles, only a little evilly, and begins to unbutton his shirt, intent on distracting Daniel from his work.
The journalist makes a little shooing motion with his hand and says, “Yeah, I’m still listening,” to his assistant.
Armand does not obey Daniel’s request. Instead, he continues his strip-tease, shrugging off his shirt and moving to unzip his trousers.
“I’m gonna have to call you back,” Daniel’s voice is breathy as he hangs up the phone.
As soon as the device is tossed aside, Armand rushes to seat himself on Daniel’s lap.
“You’re such a little nuisance,” Daniel grumbles between kisses.
Armand just smiles before leaning over to bite at his lover’s neck.
After a few orgasms and a location change, Armand and Daniel recline in their bed. Armand lays practically on top of his lover, head pillowed on his chest. If vampires could purr, he thinks he would do so.
“Armand, listen…” Daniel’s voice sounds strangely serious for such a calm moment.
Armand immediately sits up, back ramrod straight, and stares down at Daniel. Without the ability to read his fledgling’s mind, Armand tries to read his face.
Daniel sits up as well and grabs one of Armand’s hands. “Hey, don’t worry I’m not mad at you or anything.”
Armand’s anxiety is only slightly assuaged. His eyes flick between Daniel’s restlessly.
“I just…” Daniel takes a breath, “I don’t always mind when you interrupt me during my work, but sometimes I actually have shit I need to do.”
“You don’t need to work,” Armand insists, eyes unblinking, “We are not in want of money.”
“It’s not like that,” Daniel runs a hand through his hair, seemingly a bit frustrated, “Listen, Armand, I like my work. I like doing interviews and I like writing about them. I guess it’s more of a hobby than a job, at this point.”
“Okay,” Armand says slowly, “Are you upset that I interrupted you?”
“No,” Daniel emphasizes, “I told you I’m not mad or anything. I guess I was just thinking… it might be a good idea if you start up a hobby too. Something that you have that’s separate from me.”
“I don’t want to be separate from you,” Armand nearly begs. He feels like a whining child.
“Hey, hey,” Daniel cajoles, rubbing Armand’s thigh soothingly, “I just meant that you could do something fun while I work, so you don’t get bored.”
“Oh,” Armand mumbles, looking down at the rumpled bedsheets.
“Is there anything you used to enjoy doing by yourself?”
“Well,” Armand ponders, “I used to enjoy painting, I think.”
“Ah,” Daniel grimaces for a moment, but quickly smooths out his expression, “Do you think you would like painting?”
Armand considers this for a long moment, “I’m not sure. It may be worth trying.”
“Okay,” Daniel’s expression is slightly concerned, “Do you want to try it again? I don’t want you to be… upset by it.”
“As long as I am not the one being painted, I don’t see any problem with it.”
“Alright,” Daniel smiles softly, “Painting it is then.”
The only issue with this artistic endeavor is that Armand has no clue what his subject should be. He has no interest in painting people. And trying to paint a landscape at night seems nearly impossible.
Some time ago, Armand promised Daniel that he would refrain from going outside during the day unless absolutely necessary. Daniel became distraught when Armand came home one day with a red, peeling sunburn that he gets when he spends too much time in the sun. The fledgling hadn’t known that exposure to the sun still caused Armand pain.
After that day, Armand and Daniel had many discussions of what Daniel calls “self-neglect.” So, now Armand maintains certain habits in an attempt to take care of himself and reduce Daniel’s indignant fretting. He doesn’t go out in the sun unless it’s an emergency, he tries to sleep every day, and he feeds at least every other night. It’s almost embarrassing how much more energy Armand has now. However, he’s glad to be able to keep up with his lively fledgling.
However, his painting conundrum remains.
One rainy night, Daniel and Armand are strolling through the city streets, minds lazily scanning for potential victims. Luckily, the rain has subsided for now, leaving puddles on the road and a damp chill in the air.
Armand likes the rain. The gentle patter of it on rooftops is calming. The humidity it brings makes him nostalgic in a way he can’t fully express.
Down at the street level, the sound of car tires splashing through puddles buzzes pleasantly in the back of Armand’s skull. At night, all of the red and green and amber lights of the city reflect off the damp asphalt, creating a mosaic of colors that drip and stretch like taffy.
Armand’s feet suddenly bring him to a halt. His hand, tucked in the crook of Daniel’s elbow, brings his silver-haired companion to a stop as well.
“Hmm?” Daniel makes a questioning noise, “Found someone?”
“Ah,” Armand breathes, he had forgotten about the hunt for a moment, “No, not yet. I was just admiring the scenery.”
“The scenery?” Daniel snorts, “Some dirty street in Manhattan?”
Armand hums in acknowledgement. “I like the lights. I might try to paint them.”
“Alright,” Daniel chuckles a little and starts walking again, Armand in tow, “Don’t forget to add the rat over there into your magnum opus.”
Smiling, Armand brings Daniel’s hand up to his mouth and gives the skin on his knuckle a playful nip with blunt teeth.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop teasing you.”
Armand hugs Daniel’s arm to his chest, like a lovestruck teenager with his first boyfriend, and the hunt continues.
When they return home, Armand pulls out the canvas and easel that he had purchased previously.
For a long moment, he just stares at the blank canvas, nearly afraid. He mixes some oil paints until he creates his desired color and then carefully, shakily puts brush to canvas. And suddenly, it’s like some long-unused muscle flexes for the first time in centuries.
The vision Armand has in his head of the neon lights bleeding down the dark street slowly begins to take form. He just keeps going and going, getting caught up in the rhythm of it all. At some point, Daniel steps into the room cautiously.
“Armand?” Daniel calls softly, “Are you coming to bed?”
Armand jolts away from the canvas and turns to look at his beloved, eyes taking a moment to adjust.
“Is it morning already?”
“Almost. You enjoying yourself?”
Armand hums contemplatively, setting his paintbrush down. At Daniel’s urging, Armand has been trying to pause and think about questions like this before responding. Otherwise, his instinctive reaction is to say whatever he thinks Daniel would like to hear.
“I think so,” Armand decides, “I want to see how I feel when the painting is finished.”
“Alright,” Daniel steps up behind Armand and runs blood-warm fingers through his hair, “Coffin?”
Armand tilts his head into Daniel’s hand and then follows him to their bedroom.
When Armand is finished with the painting, he drags Daniel over to the easel so they can consider it together. For a while, they are silent.
“What are you thinking?” Daniel asks.
“I like it,” Armand crosses his arms and tilts his head slightly, “I’m not sure how much I want to continue painting, though. It feels like… something that belongs in the past.”
Armand didn’t like how absorbed he became in the painting. It felt like it sucked him in, plucked him from the apartment and flung him into some dimension without time or space. He isn’t always fond of that feeling, that lack of control.
“Alright,” Daniel exhales, shifting to wrap an arm around Armand’s waist, “Any other hobby ideas?”
“Hmm,” Armand absentmindedly leans into Daniel’s side, “I’m not sure. I used to like movies a lot.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” Daniel chortles, “You made me watch Jaws like twenty times.”
“The way Spielberg built a sense of dread was truly masterful, Daniel.”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first twenty times.”
Armand and Daniel are silent for a moment, looking at the oil painting as if it holds all of the answers to the universe. Armand thinks he may have felt untethered if it weren’t for Daniel’s anchoring presence.
“Maybe I’ll try watching some newer films. Exploring visual media is much easier with the internet.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Daniel squeezes Armand a little closer.
And so, Armand begins spending his time as an amateur film critic. He watches all sorts of things from comedy and drama to horror and fantasy. Occasionally, Daniel will join him, but most of the time Armand watches alone.
One evening, Armand decides to try out a nature documentary. It’s a short production that was filmed in New York, where Daniel and Armand have made their home, so it intrigues him enough to watch.
It’s while watching this nature documentary that Armand first learns about the spotted salamander migrations in the Hudson River Valley.
“Most of the year they live in the forest — Are you listening, Daniel?”
“Yes, yes, I promise I’m listening.”
“Good. Most of the year they live in the forest, but in early spring they return to the vernal pools where they were born to mate and lay their own eggs.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I don’t think you’re listening, Daniel.”
It’s nearly sunrise and Armand and Daniel are laying together in their coffin. As a fledgling, Daniel can barely keep his eyes open, which Armand finds adorable. Unfortunately, this means that he’s not a very good listener.
“Why don’t you tell me in the evening?” Daniel slurs, and then drops off into sleep.
Armand sighs, exasperated but fond, and snuggles in closer before closing his eyes as well.
The next evening, as soon as Daniel wakes up, Armand wraps his arms and legs around his lover like an octopus, preventing his escape.
“Daniel, do you love me?” Armand whispers in his beloved’s ear.
“Yeah, of course, babe,” Daniel responds, sounding very sleepy and a little suspicious.
“Would you do anything for me?”
“Absolutely not,” Daniel snorts.
Armand unhappily releases Daniel and hauls himself upright so he can look down at his lover.
“Why not?” Armand demands.
“‘Cause you’re crazy,” Daniel responds, causing Armand’s frown to deepen, “But what are you trying to make me do this time?”
“Well…” Armand feels almost shy now, “The salamander migration is coming up soon and I want to go help them cross the road.”
“Good lord,” Daniel rubs a hand over his face and sighs long-sufferingly.
Daniel puts up a bit of a protest, but he is more susceptible to Armand’s pouting face than he thinks. So, one rainy night in March, the two vampires travel upstate along a winding country road.
During these damp nights, many salamanders and frogs make the trek back to their birthplace. Unfortunately, car strikes are a major cause of death during these migrations. So, teams of volunteers patrol known amphibian crossings, helping the little creatures to the other side of the road.
Armand has signed himself and Daniel up to watch a small strip of road in Westchester. Daniel grumbles the entire trip north, but dutifully keeps Armand company.
Armand is thankful that vampires don’t really get cold, because the frigid rain would be miserable to humans. Still, the dampness is enough to be uncomfortable, even in rain coats. It takes maybe a half hour, but then Armand spots the first salamander.
“Daniel!” He shouts, “The salamanders are here!”
Armand crouches down, sitting back on his heels as he studies the slimy little creature drag itself across the rough asphalt. As delicately as possible, Armand grabs the little thing, its delicate pudgy stomach resting on his finger tips. Then, he scurries across the road to deposit it on the other side.
Armand and Daniel watch as the little thing slinks across the leaf litter, eager to return home.
“You’re going to make me touch them,” Daniel sighs, “Aren’t you?”
“You can use a glove,” Armand offers, a laugh in his voice.
For the next few hours, Armand and Daniel work to shuttle frogs and salamanders across the road. Armand doesn’t mind touching the little amphibians. He likes how their little hearts beat against the skin on his fingers, how their little lungs flutter in their chests. How things so small have working hearts and lungs and stomachs, Armand will never know.
Occasionally, a car will drive down the road and the vampires will need to step off to the side to let it pass. Then, they return to scouring for amphibians.
It is after one of these car encounters that Armand finds it.
The salamander was large, likely alive for many years. But now, it lays mangled on the road, organs exposed to the incessant rain. What remains of its limbs are splayed unnaturally. Armand thinks it was a female, trying to return home to the place where she was born. Where her mother was born, her grandmother.
“Hey,” Daniel tromps over to Armand in his rain boots, “What’s wrong—? Oh.”
The fledgling comes to a stop next to his maker, looking down at the squished little body.
“She’s dead,” Armand says simply.
“It’s okay,” Daniel reassures, sounding a little confused, “There’s other ones we saved.”
“But not her,” Armand insists, “She’s dead.”
Armand can’t tear his eyes away from the thing that was once alive. He feels like crying for some reason.
Daniel puts an arm around Armand’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Armand goes easily, wrapping his arms around Daniel’s waist. Their wet raincoats stick together uncomfortably.
“Why are you so upset about some salamanders?” Daniel asks, “We literally kill people.”
“I don't know,” Armand says mournfully, resting his forehead on his lover’s shoulder, “They never hurt anyone, they aren’t evil. They just want to go back to where they were born, Daniel, they’re just trying to go home.”
Daniel sucks in a breath, petting the back of Armand’s hooded head, “Oh.”
The pair are silent for a long moment. The only sound is the soft patter of rain against their hoods.
“If I were a salamander,” Armand starts, voice thick, “Would you help me go back to my vernal pool?”
“Yeah, Armand,” There’s a smile in Daniel’s voice, “Even if you were a slimy little worm, I’d pick you up and carry you across the road.”
“Even if I were squished beyond recognition?”
“Even then.”
“Okay.”
Armand pushes himself away from Daniel and kneels down next to the little lump of flesh. As carefully as he can, Armand scoops the salamander’s remains into his hand. He carries her across the road, setting her down at the base of a tree on a bed of moss.
He doesn’t linger long. There are more amphibians that need to find their way home.
“I want to buy some houseplants,” Armand announces to Daniel one night, looming over the table where his fledgling is tapping away at his laptop.
Daniel looks up at Armand with an eyebrow raised.
“You want another sad, sterile magnolia?”
“No,” Armand says, a little too sharply, “I’m tired of magnolias.”
Daniel smiles and clasps his hands together in that smug, analytical way that always spells trouble. Armand can’t help but find it ridiculously attractive.
“No magnolias, huh?” Daniel asks teasingly, “What’s it gonna be, then? A venus fly trap? It would certainly suit you.”
Armand puts his hands on his hips and pouts in that way that he knows makes Daniel weak. He’s only slightly offended to be called a carnivorous plant. The more upsetting part is how predictable Armand has become to his lover. He was, after all, considering a venus fly trap.
“No,” Armand lies, “I was thinking about orchids. They’re dainty and unique, obviously a better representation of my personality.”
Daniel laughs heartily, “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”
In a burst of vampiric speed, Armand is behind Daniel’s chair, arms around his chest and lips at his ear.
“Be nicer to your poor maker, Daniel,” Armand whispers, smiling as he bites lightly at his fledgling’s ear with blunt teeth.
Daniel laughs again, but this time it’s a bit too breathy to be unaffected. Armand tucks his face against Daniel’s neck, one of his favorite places to be.
“I used to like plants,” Armand whispers, “I might still enjoy caring for them.”
“Yeah,” Daniel exhales, “Gonna give it another shot?”
Armand nods, pressing his forehead into Daniel’s shoulder.
Over the next few days, Armand and his tablet are nearly inseparable. He scours the internet for fertilizers and grow-lights and rare cultivars. He buys triple the amount of grow-lamps he needs, just to make sure his more sun-loving plants have everything they require.
When Daniel sees the frankly insane amount of boxes delivered to their home, he pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s still capable of getting a headache.
“Babe,” Daniel sighs, “Why don’t you just take the protective film off the windows in the spare bedroom? You don’t need all this shit.”
Armand pauses in the midst of opening another box, looking up at his lover.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Yeah,” Daniel snorts, “We sleep two rooms away in a coffin. I’ll be fine.”
“Thank you, beloved,” Armand smiles, rising to his feet, “You know I get worried about my little baby fledgling.”
Armand pinches Daniel’s cheek between his thumb and forefinger like a grandmother with her grandchild.
Daniel sticks his tongue out at his maker and pulls his face away from the assault.
“Shut up, you weirdo,” Daniel says, but then leans forward to mute Armand with a kiss.
The spare bedroom slowly becomes a greenhouse, much to Daniel’s chagrin. Armand nearly considers adding some frogs or lizards to the biome, just to provoke Daniel even further. But he manages to restrain himself.
Armand mostly collects tropical plants to add to his little jungle. He orders rubber plants, orchids, ficus, peace lilies, bird of paradise, coffee plants, bromeliads, sundew, and, of course, venus fly traps. Once a week or so, Armand uses tweezers to gently place a mealworm into the fly trap’s mouth. He is fascinated by the gluttony of carnivorous plants. Just like vampires, they too act against their nature for a taste of the forbidden.
Originally, Armand had Daniel watch as he fed the plants. However, he has since refused to be anywhere near the plant room during these feedings.
“You look like a kid in a candy shop,” Daniel complains, “And you don’t blink. It’s freaky!”
“Freaky in a good way?” Armand likes to tease.
“No,” Daniel insists, and they both know it’s a lie.
Aside from giving his carnivorous plants the flesh they crave, Armand rigorously cleans each and every plant leaf. He clips away any dead plant matter. He runs about three humidifiers at a time. He even gets a speaker to play some classical music for them. He had read online that plants enjoy the soothing vibrations.
It is during one of his regular leaf cleanings that Daniel leans up against the doorframe to watch his maker work.
“You really like caring for things,” Daniel observes, curious, “Like the salamanders and your plants. I guess I thought you’d enjoy squishing bugs or something. I mean, there was the rat and the blender incident….”
“Rats are different,” Armand says quickly, maybe a bit too defensively. If he thinks too hard, he can hear them burrowing their way through flesh, scratching and gnawing and squealing with a voracious joy.
Armand shakes his head a little to clear the imaginary noises away.
“But I don’t really know why I enjoy it,” Armand answers, pointedly not looking at Daniel, “Louis told me I acted like his mother. Even before, I was always….” Armand has to take a moment to think, to collect himself.
“The younger boys at the palazzo came to me for help sometimes. I don’t know why. I don’t remember enough of my life before Marius’s purchase to know if I was—”
Something catches in Armand’s throat then, choking the words out of his mouth.
“If you were…?” Daniel presses gently.
“An older brother. A cousin. An uncle. Maybe a farmer. A gardener. Someone whose purpose was to nurture.”
“Well,” Daniel remarks, stepping up beside Armand to wrap an arm around his waist, “Aside from the first couple years, you’ve done a pretty good job as a maker.”
Armand laughs a little sadly, “There’s still time for me to fuck up, don’t worry.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you will.”
Armand spins around to face Daniel, cradling his face in his hands.
“My fledgling,” Armand coos, “My one perfect fledgling, I love you.”
Daniel rolls his eyes, but Armand can tell he’s secretly pleased.
“You know, I was thinking…” Daniel begins one night while he and Armand are sitting in a bar, looking for a meal.
They’re sitting in a dim corner, untouched drinks on the table in front of them. The curved velvet couch allows them to sit as close to each other as possible. Daniel’s arm rests across Armand’s shoulders, and Armand is enjoying running his hand up and down Daniel’s thigh.
“Hmm, what were you thinking, beloved?” Armand asks, distracted by a daydream of sliding under the table to give Daniel a blowjob.
“You wanna… take a vacation to Delhi? I haven’t been before.”
Armand has to blink a few times to process the question. He thinks he gets whiplash from how fast he goes from horny to sober.
“I… what?” Armand says dumbly, pulling away from Daniel’s embrace enough to look him in the eye.
“Well…” Daniel rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “You’ve gone with Louis before, right?”
Armand nods slowly.
“I guess I wanna see where you were born,” Daniel shrugs in a facade of nonchalance, “It’s like those salamanders. You’d be showing me your, uh, vernal pool.”
A smile begins to creep across Armand’s face as some soft, mushy feeling spreads through his chest.
“Does this mean you’re accepting my spermatophore?” Armand teases.
“I don’t even wanna know what that means,” Daniel makes a slightly disgusted face as he speaks, “But probably yes.”
Armand lets out a hearty laugh at that. The elation in his chest makes him louder than intended, drawing eyes across the bar. Armand doesn’t care, not while Daniel is staring at him like he hung the moon and all the stars.
Only a few weeks later, Armand and Daniel hop in their private jet — with sun protection of course — and make their way to Delhi.
Armand has returned to his birthplace multiple times since he and Louis left Paris, but they never established a long-term home there. Not like they did in Dubai.
Armand enjoys visiting Delhi. It brings him some level of comfort and nostalgia, even if he remembers very little of his childhood here. Even with all of the changes five hundred years bring, there are still some things that remain. The sound of birds, the smell of spiced foods, the cadence of the many local languages. Every familiar sensation brings an aching, warming sort of peace. Like an embrace from someone he hasn’t seen in many years.
“You happy to be back?” Daniel rests a gentle hand at the base of Armand’s spine.
“Yes,” Armand replies, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “It’s been years since I’ve been back. Louis and I rarely left Dubai once we established our home there.”
“Ah,” Daniel intones, “Well… what do you want to do first?”
Armand turns towards his lover and holds Daniel’s hands in his own.
“First, a meal after that long trip,” Armand smiles, “Then, we have a great many things to see, beloved. I hope you’re ready.”
“For you, babe, always.”
Over the next few days, Armand enjoys dragging Daniel around Delhi. They visit various historical structures and temples and mosques. They do a great deal of shopping, and Armand amasses a small collection of trinkets and souvenirs.
One night, they end up taking a little boat out onto the Yamuna River. It’s a peaceful night and the river is calm. The night chorus of birds and insects rings pleasantly through the air. When the night is this calm, the river this still, the boat small and open, Armand doesn’t feel any trepidation.
“This is really nice, very nature-y,” Daniel comments.
Armand laughs, “Yes, it certainly is. I’m sure, in my time, it was even more “nature-y.’ I can’t remember it very clearly, though.”
The pair is silent for a moment. The gentle lap of waves against the boat is the only sound.
“Is this river how you… traveled to Venice?” Daniel asks awkwardly.
Two wives, two daughters, and one centuries-old vampire later and Daniel is still rather terrible at comforting others.
“No,” Armand responds, looking out over the dark water, “First, I would have traveled southwest to Bharuch, called Barygaza by the Europeans. Then by boat around the Arabian Peninsula. Two weeks walk across Cairo — the Suez Canal wouldn’t be built for many years — then across the Mediterranean and, finally, to Venice.”
“That…” Daniel hesitates. Armand can feel his heartbreak across their bond. “That sounds like a very long trip.”
“Yes,” Armand is nearly whispering now, “Months. But I don’t remember most of it. I remember being chased. I remember being shackled below deck. I remember—”
Armand has to stop for a moment, the memories beginning to consume too much of him. He looks down at the wood on the bottom of their canoe and some long-buried memory rises to the surface.
“I remember something terrible happening. I remember staring at the floor, eyes tracing the wood grain over and over while waiting for something to end.”
A moment of silence passes.
“Of course,” Armand’s voice comes out in a monotone, “I can guess what happened. But all I remember is the wood grain and the sound of waves crashing against the ship hull.”
“Do you…” Daniel starts, stilted, “Do you like boats? I thought Louis said you stayed to watch the boats come into harbor.”
Now, Armand can finally bring his gaze up to meet Daniel’s. His eyes look nearly purple in the moonlight.
“I like to see what arrives when a ship comes to shore.”
“Has it ever been… people?”
“A few times, over the years.”
“What did you do?”
Armand chuckles a little and smiles widely, showing off his fangs.
“What do you think I did, beloved?”
“Probably made them wish they were dead,” Daniel smiles back. Their easy banter is far more comfortable for Daniel than serious conversations.
“Hmm,” Armand responds only with a small, satisfied noise. His smile turns nostalgic.
Armand remembers the first time he heard the minds of terrified children roll into a Parisian port. He enjoyed tearing apart the traffickers limb from limb, sinking the boat with their mutilated corpses inside. It was one of the first times he allowed himself to hunt just for the sport of it. The children likely found their way to an orphanage. Armand can’t fully remember now. He thinks it was more merciful than turning a blind eye to their plight.
“Are you okay on this boat?” Daniel asks, brows furrowed, “We don’t have to stay out here if you don’t want to.”
Armand laughs a little, “Don’t worry, beloved, this canoe is in no way intimidating.” He sobers a bit before continuing, “I don’t have any desire to go on a real ship, however. Airplanes are a far superior mode of transportation.”
“Well,” Daniel scratches at the back of his neck, “You’re not wrong. As a human, I always got seasick…. Hey, can vampires get seasick?”
“I don’t believe so,” Armand giggles, a wonderful idea forming in his mind, “But why don’t we find out?”
To Daniel’s surprise, Armand uses his powers to rock their boat back and forth in a way that would be dizzying to a human. Daniel grips the sides of the boat in fear but, thankfully, does not vomit.
“Well?” Armand asks as the canoe’s rocking ceases, “Still seasick?”
“Fucking asshole,” Daniel grumbles.
Armand just grins.
Armand and Daniel decide to expand their trip farther than New Delhi. Armand has a strange longing to see the ocean again, to dip his feet in the water and feel cleansed by the waves. He doesn’t directly explain this to Daniel, but Armand is sure his lover notices their increasing proximity to the ocean as they travel to Agra, then Jaipur, Udaipur, Ahmedabad, and finally Surat.
Armand and Daniel venture to Dumas, and the scents wafting from the many food stalls make Armand wish that human food didn’t taste so disgusting. In the past, Armand tried eating small bits of human food, as Louis once did. But he could never keep it in his stomach for long.
So, Armand and Daniel pass by the food stalls and head for the ocean. There aren’t many people out at this time of the night. But the sky is nearly clear and the moonlight reflects off the wet sand, reminiscent of Manhattan after a rainstorm.
At first, they just walk along the beach, letting the waves roll up to their ankles. It reminds Armand of the old days on Night Island. Daniel is still too attached to his human life to permanently move out of his apartment in New York. But Armand is confident that, when the time comes to fake Daniel’s death, the two of them can return to their home by the sea.
“You like the water, don’t you?” Daniel asks, breaking Armand out of his reverie.
Armand looks over at his lover and sees those kaleidoscope eyes studying him intently. Always the journalist, Daniel is.
“I suppose so,” Armand muses, “It’s calming. I like the ocean.”
“Despite the memories associated with it?”
“Hmm,” Armand considers this, “Maybe because of the memories. Even in my worst moments, the ocean or her rivers were never far away. It has been a constant in my otherwise rather turbulent life.”
“The rain, too,” Daniel remarks, lighthearted, “Like those little salamanders.”
“Yes,” Armand laughs, “I like how it helps the salamanders get home.”
They’re silent for a moment, the sound of the waves offering comfort. There’s something about the beach in the quiet dark that makes it far easier for Armand to reveal his vulnerable underbelly.
“Do you remember,” Armand starts softly, “You said if I were a salamander, you’d help me across the road, so I could go back home. So I wouldn’t get squished by a car.”
“Yeah, Armand, I’d still love you if you were a worm and all that,” Daniel jokes, reaching out to hold Armand’s hand.
Armand abruptly comes to a stop, halting Daniel as well.
“You make it sound easy,” Armand says, voice strained, “Loving me. No one else has ever thought so.”
He turns to lock eyes with Daniel, those gray eyebrows pinched in concern.
“No one else ever helped me cross the road. They saw me struggling and swerved to ensure I would be crushed under their tires. Even Louis, who wanted me to reach the other side, was too disgusted to pick me up and carry me across.”
“You’re not a salamander, love,” Daniel smiles, a bit sadly, “You could cross the road yourself, if you wanted.”
“Maybe,” Armand concedes, allowing his own lips to quirk up in a smile, “But I like it when you hold me. I like it much better than being alone.”
“Oh really?” Daniel drawls mischievously.
Daniel wraps his arms around his maker’s waist and swings him around a few times, the both of them laughing a bit too loud to be human. When he’s in Daniel’s arms, Armand feels younger, lighter than ever before.
When he is finally set back on his feet, Armand realizes that the sky has darkened, signaling an oncoming rainstorm.
“Daniel, maybe we should—”
Before Armand can finish, the clouds open up and begin to pour rain. Daniel looks disgruntled, but fond as Armand laughs.
“Perfect timing!”
Immediately soaked by rain, Armand and Daniel decide to go for a swim in the ocean. They splash and kiss and float and act perfectly lovesick.
Later, in the warm spray of their hotel shower, Daniel presses sweet kisses across Armand’s collarbones and whispers, “You’re easy to love, Armand. Easier than breathing.”
Armand is thankful that they’re already in the shower when his eyes start to grow damp with blood.