He never would.

Neal sinks into the feeling, basking for as long as it lasts. He rides out the initial lightheadedness with his arms around Lestat’s waist and neck. He stays there, face nested against the vampire’s throat. He’d believe it, if Lestat told him they still had some thread of a connection from when he was turned. He’d embrace the idea, truthfully.

Neal exhales softly. “Do you have to stay in your coffin? Is it a… health and safety issue? Or can you stay here tonight?”