Quinn

The warm, golden amber of Quinn's gaze seemed to nearly glow in the half-light as what remained of the sun began to slowly sink below the horizon. It had been a busy day. One the vampire was glad had come to a close. He loathed moving day. The mess, the hassle, the boxes, the unpacking. They had done it a thousand times over and yet Quinn seemed to dread it just the same each and every time while Leila appeared to embrace it with a never-ending enthusiasm. She was resilient, his wife. As much as she had adored their last home she never ceased to look at a new city as a new challenge, of sorts. One Quinton was inclined to see as little more than a bother, albeit a necessary one. Their lifestyle so rarely....permitted their staying in one place too long. To be stationary, to be settled, only gave those authorities more and more time to find a loose thread worth pulling at. No matter how hard Quinn had worked to assure those loose ends remained securely tied. The sound of someone approaching prompted the vampire to glance over the top of the ipad within his hands. He could hear that couple long before they reached his front lawn. His vampiric hearing was well aware of them as his gaze peered upward and out of the living room window. They had seen Leila in the moving van. They were heading for her. Quinn's gaze shifted from the moving truck that contained his wife, to those neighbours and back again. There was no time to save her. She would be forced to succumb to her fate.

Quinn's tall, fit figure slid further down that sofa he lay across. His head sinking below the window in some effort to conceal himself from the neighbours lest their curiosity get the better of them and they decide to peer into his home.. That was the trouble with humans. They were a curious species. Nosey even. Their insatiable need for gossip so often clouded their already deluded judgement. The very kind of judgement that insisted Leila was the sort of woman they should talk to, that he was clearly no more than a businessman. That their daughter was a typical teenage recluse. The Van Acker's were clearly just a little quirky, just a little different, absolutely not dangerous at all. Oh how their human need for gossip overrode their own instincts. It was almost fascinating really and yet- his family so often made their meals out of exploiting that lack of instinct within the human race. He could hear their voices from here. The woman's shrill voice was overly welcoming. She would annoy Leila instantly. His wife had a near shrewd ability to know when someone was being 'fake' with her. The husband, as was typical for this type of neighbourhood, was merely along for the ride. A typical, middle-aged hen-pecked....real estate agent. Yes. He sounded like a real estate agent. Quinn snorted softly in amusement as Leila's falsified reply of greeting echoed from within the truck. The vampire was entirely content to return to reading his newspaper. Online.

He had enjoyed that physical newspaper. Until Leila had insisted it made him look 'dated'. No one, she said, read a newspaper any more. At least not one made out of paper. Quinn, less than three days later, having found himself presented with an ipad. His wife had insisted he could get more than one newspaper on it. That had been a fucking ordeal. It had taken Morgan days to attempt to explain how those subscriptions to online news outlets worked. It had taken another week longer before Quinn had managed to tame that ipad into not rotating his newspaper about every time he slightly turned the screen.Technology. It was both a blessing and a curse. Yet, he was inclined to admit, he did enjoy having several newspapers to read from. Especially when more than one paper covered a particularly intriguing story. Each one vying to produce the more catchy headline or the more graphic picture. He enjoyed watching that battle between them- in choosing which one would garner his attention that day. As if it were a prize to be won. Leila had never understood his fascination with the news- or his ability to read it for hours on end. She had never truly been the type to read more than what was necessary. Leila was a busy individual. A near striking contrast to his own unwavering...calm. As for Morgan- she was something else entirely.

It was only Leila's mention of the tea kettle some twenty minutes later that prompted Quinn's gaze to lift from that screen again- the vampire peering behind himself and into that kitchen to eye the empty kitchen bench. They were going to have to find the tea kettle now. Those neighbours would hardly forget what Leila had said. They would expect tea next time. Quinn shifted slightly, sliding back up that couch so as to prevent Leila accusing him of exactly what he had been doing in concealing himself from the neighbours. His wife all but stormed into that living room a moment later, the front door closing behind her with a distinct thud that gave away exactly what she thought of their new neighbours. How unimpressed she seemed. Quinn allowed a faint, near hidden simper to momentarily grace his lips before he concealed it with a yawn of sorts, his ipad resting on his chest as his gaze fluttered to his lover. The box Leila was holding was dropped with a notable thud.

"You're going to wake-."

His words hardly managed to find their end as Leila insisted she had been accosted by non-other than the president of the homeowners association. The woman apparently having accused them of having a lawn that was sub-par in its efforts to retain an unseasonably green appearance. Quinn lent upward slightly, peering out of the window once more and toward the grass on the front lawn as if expecting to see something akin to the brown grass of the african savannah. His front lawn, to his eyes, appeared exactly as green as everyone else's. Hmmm. Leila's fingers curled in irritation, his wife, in that moment, appearing almost as if she were imagining how it might feel to throttle that woman.

"I'll see to the grass so that she won't bother you again. Although, you know I find it cute when you're...fiery."

His lips quirked upward once more. That smile was lazy, almost boyish. His tongue, near habitually, toyed with the tip of one fang. He enjoyed it when leila was...irritated at something (other than him). It made her fiery, passionate, intriguing and....exquisitely perfect in every way. Leila's fingers clasped suddenly together, her gaze cast sideways as Morgan appeared within the kitchen. Their daughter, as always, had risen with the downing of the sun. Leila greeted her near brightly before insisting that half of the movers hadn't paid attention to the names written on the boxes and that Morgan's things could be anywhere within the house. Quinn snorted softly.

"Half of the movers unloaded the truck at twice the speed of the other half."

Quinn's gaze lifted, meeting his wife's own. Daring her to argue that his speed was somehow lesser then her....reading ability when it had led to her being accosted by the neighbours. Maybe if she had been faster. Quinn's attention returned to Morgan then, his amber gaze meeting her own- those words were already upon his lips. Those dreaded words. The words she had loathed since she was old enough to talk. Maybe he shouldn't say it today. Maybe he should let it pass and yet that moment was within reach. So touchable. So tangible. He could hardly help himself. They were a compulsion. A burning need to be spoken aloud even if Morgan would groan and even Leila would roll her eyes at him. Yet what was the purpose of taking on that roll of father if he was not allowed certain liberties? Certain moments to shine? How he was on the very precipice of one now. Those lyrics fell from his lips. As soft and quiet as always and yet how his eyes nearly shone with the knowledge of that crime he had committed as he met Morgan's gaze.

"Good Morgan to you."

How satisfying that was. A perfect 'dad' joke. How he had excelled in this role of fatherhood beyond even his own expectations.

Leila, he was certain, regretted naming her Morgan every single day.

Quinn? He regretted nothing.