The theatre in the dark was a very different place and the soft glow emanating from the lamp I carried threw forth our shadows so that they flickered in the light and appeared to dance. Nicki`s arm was wrapped tight around my waist as we huddled together so that we could share the light. It had been his idea to go there as it had been to go to the witches` place and tonight the two seemed eerily similar, both alive with the echoes of what had happened there before and dead in the silence and still air that comes from being deserted for at the very least a few hours. I could feel the dull warmth of Nicki in my arms, pleasantly distracting me from the horror of the darkness that surrounded us. Light were our footsteps and quick were our feet as together we hurried through the murky gloom of the wings and I found that I stumbled as my feet found the stage.

In the glow of the candle`s flame, the theatre was illuminated, with soft golden tones. The velvet curtains pulled aside, we could see out towards an invisible audience and for a moment I scarcely breathed as though I had fallen into a scene on accident and lines had slipped from my head. And then, slowly, I moved to take centre stage, placing the lamp down with a muffled thud. The polished wood gleamed with the light.

Inhaling deeply, the scent the dust and the greasepaint and the velvet made the air thick to breathe, but then Nicki – oh Nicki smelt wonderful. The subtle scent of his skin laced the air around me and enveloped me as I pulled him close. It made the hairs on my arms stand up to have him so near. "No talk of a devilish art form tonight my love," I murmured, brushing the hair back from his handsome face. His eyes were wide and alight with delight as he returned my gaze, glad I had decided to come.

"And no talk of damnation either," he said softly, his arms slinking around my neck. His lips were parted just slightly, tantalising; teasing. I leant forward and kissed him softly, briefly, my lips touching his for the barest of seconds. "Lestat . . ." he breathed, his voice achingly beautiful, a gentle, enticing, hum. His breath was soft against my skin and very suddenly there was something more than dust in the air. There was magic.

Nicki lay with his head in my lap, his breathing soft and low in the air as I stroked his hair gently. A small smile crossed my lips as I watched him. He lay still in my arms, his body like a statue, the only movement that of his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. Wearing the clothes he had when we first met, he was still a vision, my vision, of utter splendour. The rose and gold coat he wore glimmered in the dwindling light of the lamp. The lace of his collar was ruffled; his delicate pallor tinged pink and his normally pristine dark curls wild and tangled around his face, my hand knotted within them. He was beautiful. My fingers were laced between his and he held our hands in front of us, studying our pale, dainty, hands. His skin seemed to gleam as I watched him.

"Sometimes I feel as though I am filled with darkness and you are filled with light, and that you are burning through me," he murmured. His small voice echoed through the hollow theatre with a low resonating ring.

"Oh Nicki," I whispered. Leaning down, I brushed my lips against his forehead. "There is not darkness in you any more than there is light in me. You are not a bad person, Nicolas."

And the night passed by and we talked and laughed and embraced. Nicolas and I had no idea of what was to come, or how we would tear each other apart in the end; how he would hurt me and hate me. How I would desire his destruction . . . But that night held such promise and I would not change that now or ever.

Mostly written to cheer myself up after I read the bit where Nicki told Lestat he hated him. Reviews would be nice please =D