Quinn

How that one little word seemed to shift his wife's mood entirely. That violent outrage seemed to fade into a look near coy as she queried whether she was 'just' cute. The Fae woman so clearly fishing for more as a boyish, easy grin found Quinn's own lips. Leila's finger reached up, curling seductively around a lock of brunette hair as she eyed him. Who was he to deny her those words of adoration when they were nothing but true? She was alluring when she was irritated. Passionate, unpredictable, wild. It was arousing and attractive. He adored watching her cunning mind at work. After all, it so often led to a meal for himself. The adrenaline of the hunt was...addictive. That want for bloodshed equally so even despite that deceptively calm demeanor he so often wore. His amber gaze shifted to meet her own.

"You are beautiful, elegant, bewitching- divine even. Perhaps I might compose a poem for you later, you have entranced me so."

Leila had always adored his poems even if Morgan did little save point out what she perceived to be flaws within them. Morgan did not understand true art as Leila did. Children. They always thought they knew better. How much she had to learn. Perhaps he would make that poem seductive- if only to coax Leila to their bed once the sun rose once more. It had been a little while after all. Her figure had gone far too unexplored for too long. How he might enjoy the feel of his wife beneath him, the taste of her, the sounds of her-. Leila's hands clasped together almost excitedly, Morgan's name upon her lips, that very word so managing to silence those more sensual thoughts within the vampire's mind. Leila, as always, was equally swift in shifting her mood once more like an actress upon a constant stage. How marvellous his wife was. Her query as to whether or not Morgan liked her new room however was met with that near typical sullen response that seemed a veritable staple of any teenager- human or otherwise. Her room, Morgan insisted, smelled like someone had died in it and been left to rot- or maybe socks. Quinn snorted softly as Leila's smile wavered before offering to find Morgan some Glad spray or a candle. Was their house to be a church now?

"You know, you could just stop breathing, Morgan. Then you wouldn't have a sense of smell."

Quinn allowed one eye to raise as he eyed his daughter. She was, after all, a vampire like himself. They hardly needed to breathe even if it was, most of the time, simply more comfortable to do so. The air, after all, provided a veritable plethora of information to them and yet, even so, simply ceasing to breathe in her room would solve the problem here and now without Leila having to hunt all over town in search over....whatever a Yankee Candle was. Leila's attention returned to the box at her feet only for his wife to insist that half of the boxes had made it inside- only to be put in the wrong place. Another soft snort rose from within the still sprawled vampire. Speed, he was certain, was more valuable than correct placement. After all, if Leila had been faster then perhaps she would have managed not to run into the neighbours. A point Quinn knew better then to voice aloud as Morgan grumbled further before insisting maybe Leila was purposefully slow. A ready pour formed upon his lover's lips as she muttered beneath her breath once more. This, it seemed, had been a victory for him. In the very least- he was willing to take it as one. Quinn's gaze fluttered away from his wife and back towards his daughter as Morgan crossed the room- only to open the refrigerator and stare into it as if anticipating some sort of meal might materialize if she willed it. The sudden touch of Leila's foot to his leg prompted Quinn's gaze downward once more, his amber gaze meeting his wifes own as she mouthed that singular word towards him.

"Always."

He uttered softly, a faint simper of affection finding his lips for his wife alone before his gaze shifted back towards Morgan. Those words upon his tongue were near begging to be spoken even if he knew Morgan and Leila both would groan and roll their eyes. They should know him well enough after all this time to know he could not resist. Not when the moment presented itself. Not when that opportunity arose. Good Morgan. Those words were uttered with the same, soft quietness as the man often spoke. The eye roll he had predicted from his wife was quick to follow as a look of sheer....disappointment seemed to find Morgan's features. Only for the younger vampire to declare she was changing her name. A grin of satisfaction settled upon Quinn's lips, the man reaching to pick up his ipad again as Leila hunted for the box of drapes, the woman only just managing to find them before Morgan suggested they just kill the neighbours. The very thing that had forced them to move to begin with. Leila was quick to reprimand the younger vampire- even despite the number of times Leila had been the very one to commit that exact transgression herself. Maybe both the women in his life were finally beginning to pay attention to his rules. It was a vague hope. Leila was quick to insist they had just bought this townhouse and she hardly desired to have to move again. No. They just need better fertiliser. That near devious grin on Leila's features was hardly missed, his wife practically beaming towards him in delight as Quinn nearly reluctantly allowed his ipad to rest upon his chest again. His reading, it seemed, was over for the night and yet he never had been able to deny Leila. Not when she desired something.

"If we are going out then I suggest you two start getting ready now and when you are both ninety nine percent ready I will get ready. How it takes you both so long I will never understand."

Women, he was certain, would all perish in a blaze if they were required to make any sort of quick getaway. Leila, in all the centuries they had been together, had managed to improve her speed by approximately one minute despite his constant efforts to hurry her (he has since given up entirely). Morgan, he had decided, took even longer. As if that was somehow possible when he was certain the only colour she owned was black. Didn't all black look the same? Quinn waited only so long as it took Morgan to wander out of that room, his hand reaching to catch Leila's arm as she made an effort to pass- tugging the fae woman down and onto his lap. His arms wrapped effortlessly, affectionately around her before his lips pressed to her cheek. That trail of sweet kisses swept smoothly downward before Quinn allowed his lips to part- his fangs scrapping teasingly along the flesh of her neck. He could almost taste her. Those very words, this time, a near whisper agianst her skin.

"We have not had any time alone in far too long, Leila."

That move had been hurried, they always were. Time for....intimacy had been limited of late. Quinn's hand settled on his wife's thigh. His fingers slid gently, smoothly upward toward that apex. Even though that clothing he could feel the warmth of her skin. The softest, faintest of sounds abruptly prompted the vampire to pause, his head suddenly turning to glance back towards those stairs- only to find Morgan at the base of them once more. Quinn's hand was quick to settle on the outside of Leila's thigh, his lips falling back over his fangs.

"Yes Morgan?"

The vast majority of Morgan's belongings, he had forgotten, were still in boxes on the living room floor. Quinn's head fell back in veritable defeat as Morgan began to rummage through her boxes in search of whatever it was she was looking for. Quinn's gaze continued to watch her near pointedly. The vampire waited until she reached that third box before his lips pressed chastity to Leila's shoulder.

"I'm going to start doing it again, Morgan. You better hurry."

That, usually, was enough to prompt the younger vampire to flee the room. Morgan was entirely old enough to understand sex- in all its facets. Indeed, Quinn was entirely certain his daughter had toyed with far more then merely one boy in her long life and yet that, as far as he was concerned, was fimly Leila's territory to deal with. His, he was certain, was merely threatening to shower that affection upon his wife as openly as possible if only to prompt his child to flee back upstairs once more.