leila

The box within her hands was practically thrown on the ground in a fit of fury as Leila recounted the very unfortunate event that had occurred just outside of their home. The youthful appearing fae had been minding her own business before she was confronted by the most passive aggressive woman she was certain she'd met since...well...at least a month! How dare she complain about the grass in their front yard! As if they'd even settled in enough to even consider something as dreadfully mundane as the hue of their grass! Her fingers curled as she imagined exactly what their new neighbor's face might look like between her dainty fingers - gasping for air whilst Leila strangled every minute bit of complaint out of her. Oh how satisfying that would be! She hardly noticed her husband glancing out the window to eye the shade of foliage in the same dubious way Leila herself had upon discovering exactly why the couple outside her perturbed her tentative solitary peace. It was the smooth baritone of Quinn's voice that momentarily interrupted her fantasy - one that was already growing increasingly violent within the forefront of her thoughts. His promise to see to the grass caused a soft huff upon her lips - at least, until Quinn insisted he found her cute.

How such a single word could so transform her mood! A simper abruptly blossomed across her feminine features as Leila reached up, curling a brunette lock almost innocent around her finger. "Just cute?" She inquired, so clearly fishing for more from her man. After all, with all this moving nonsense, it had been quite a while since the two of them had a moment alone...together. How such thoughts so surely played across her features as she eyed the near boyish smile upon her husband's lips. It might be nice to remind him of -- Oh! Morgan! Her hands suddenly clasped together, as Leila's whole stance changed at the mere presence of her daughter. Her hazel eyes turned immediately towards the girl - those more sensual thoughts chased away as swiftly as they had appeared. After all, there would be time for those desires later. Preferably when the sun was up and her sweet child was asleep...which she currently was not. In fact, the night had just begun! A night filled with...unpacking...much to Leila's dissatisfaction. Moving, albeit a necessity, was a pain, despite the fae's attempts to make it otherwise. Nevertheless, Leila's enthusiasm failed to be sullied as she inquired after Morgan's new room.

It was her daughter's response alone that finally saw her zeal waver. That smile dropped from her lips as Leila eyed Morgan in a truly exasperated manner. Morgan had always been...terribly sensitive to scents. Even more so once she joined the legion of the undead. "Well, we'll get some of that Glade spray or...some candles or something. You like those big ones from Yankee Candle, don't you?" How terribly modern of her to solve such a problem with other scents and yet, she refused to let the promise of this house be wasted upon a bad scent. Personally, Leila didn't find the scent of death all that putred. Perhaps it was an age thing. Maybe she had been around death for too long...though she'd blame Quinn for that. And a few other things, now that she'd thought about it. Her attention turned to the box at her feet as she gestured vaguely around the house, certain that Morgan's things were half lost amongst the assortment of other thats that had been improperly placed in rooms that didn't align with the women's neat handwritings. The soft snort from her husband drew the blue-green of Leila's gaze. Her arms crossed over her chest at his insistence that he'd unloaded the truck twice as fast as she had. It was a fact she couldn't argue - they both knew that. Her retaliation was the slight pucker of her lip and an almost deceptively childish pout, one only worsened by her daughter's accusations that she was purposefully slow! "At least my boxes are in the right place." Leila grumbled to no one in particular.

She watched as Morgan whisked past her and into the kitchen, prompting a small raise of her brow. She had yet to even place away the plates and cutlery, much less acquire anything noteworthy for the fridge! When did Morgan think she had managed to fit in acquiring a body, draining it, and storing the contents between unloading the entire moving truck? The hazel of her gaze shifted towards her husband as she lifted her leg, using her foot to nudge her husband's leg. "Hungry?" The word was mouthed inaudibly at him, certain that he would understand her after so many years in blissful matrimony. Quinn, however, seemed wholly distracted by something else entirely - his golden irises so steadfast upon their daughter as she closed the door to the barren refrigerator. His voice was smooth and soft in the otherwise quiet room, the very words upon his lips prompted a roll of Leila's eyes as she turned from her husband, far more focused on the prospect of curtains. Very very heavy curtains. To block out the neighbors and their nosey little eyeballs.

Leila had only just found the box labeled 'drapes' in the corner of the living room beneath several others when Morgan threatened to change her name. The threat was empty and so, Leila was quite content to ignore it as she hauled the first box off of the precarious stack in the corner. In fact, it wasn't until Morgan suggested they simply kill the neighbors that Leila decided to interject, the first box landing on the floor with a soft thud. "No! You know the rules, Morgan, we don't kill neighbors." She insisted, despite the number of times they had been forced to move over the years for Leila committing that precise act, "Besides, we just bought this townhome and I like it. We'll just..." She straightened up in consideration, her head cocked to the side ever so slightly "...have to get very....very good fertilizer. Right Quinn?" Already there was a plan brewing within her mind, prompting a delightfully wicked simper upon her features as she glanced back at her husband with a look that was entirely devious.