[Lestat is going mad, though; he has been all along, and that's been the point from the very start, has it not? They've gone mad, the both of them, and perhaps all of this seemingly eternal nightmare has been a fever dream the whole time, one they simply have yet to wake from.

Wouldn't that be nice?]

You are dreaming, trésor. Because only a truly unbridled mind could conjure an endless nightmare so cruel as this, n'est-ce pas? [If he's to believe his own lie that this is a dream, surely he's allowed to give in just a bit and press a kiss to Lestat's lips... those same lips that were warm, once upon a time.]

In the darkest moments, I endeavor to remind myself that... surely, one day, the both of us will wake...

Won't we?