leila

Divine! As breathtaking as the goddess she was - a caliber far beyond the simple mundane 'cute' that her wholly eloquent husband had originally described her as. The further promise of being a muse of one of his literary works of greatness only further preen as she ran her hand through her brunette locks, coaxing them to fall ever so neatly in a gentle framing of her petite face. "I would love to --" Her words were cut off quite abruptly at the sound of her daughter's footfalls, that almost salacious mood shifted rapidly as her hands clasped together in front of her as she uttered Morgan's name with perhaps more enthusiasm then was truly necessary. How quick she was to inquire after Morgan's thoughts on their new home. After all, Leila found it rather chic - from it's perfect wood floors to the bright natural light she'd enjoy from the large windows during the daytime and the plethora of fireplaces! Ah, it was homey and comfortable and provided so much potential! They needed new furniture! Something to match the modern stylish vibes that filled her very bones with the home's -- but no. Morgan's words were like a tsunami of rain on Leila's parade! The hurt! The betrayal! How visible her disappointment was, her smile faded into a notable frown as she stared at her daughter.

No. She refused. She would not let Morgan ruin this place. It was her place. She had claimed it and Morgan and the nosey neighbors would not decimate her love of it! Quickly Leila brushed off Morgan's discontent with the suggestion that all smells can be easily masked with the liberate use of Glad spray...or maybe even candles. She knew her daughter had a liking for those large heavy ones from the mall - expensive as they were...for candles. It was her husband's suggestion of just not breathing that caused Leila to nod in agreement, "Oh yes! That would work, how about that?" She inquired, turning back to her daughter with the belief that this was the perfect remedy to Morgan's....moodiness. The young vampire, however, hardly seemed as thrilled with the idea of avoiding breath - candles...or air freshener, at least, seemed to be the more preferable route and one Leila was willing to embrace with equal fervor. "I'm always onto something, pumpkin. I'll see about getting some tomorrow afternoon!" That beam once again returned upon her features as her gaze swept the box filled room, only to land upon the one at her feet - the very one that had been the catalyst for her rather unfortunate meeting with an equally as unfortunately awful woman. The very memory of it was enough to prick Leila's irritation all over again, even as she attempted to turn her focus onto the rather unorganized state of her home.

Though the boxes had managed to rapidly make their way into her home from the moving truck - they were largely strewn all about the house thanks largely to a particular someone. Her pointed look, however, earned her little more than a snort and a reprimand from her daughter - of all people! The one person who hadn't had to fret over moving boxes at all! Her arms crossed over her chest in a pout as she grumbled beneath her breath, only for her daughter to whisk past her and more purposefully towards the kitchen. Her brow rose ever so slightly, entirely aware of what Morgan would find within the silver colored box -- absolutely nothing. Her gaze turned towards her husband as she reached out with her foot, gently tapping against the sole of his shoe to gain his attention. A single voiceless word left her lips - one that was responded to equally as quietly. Hm. It would seem unpacking would have to come later. After all, it would not do to let her family go hungry! Her husband, however, seemed wholly distracted from his own gnawing hunger, however, as he turned to greet their daughter in a way so painfully cheesy that even Leila's eyes rolled as she turned to further survey the boxes strewn about her living room.

She all but ignored her daughter's empty threat to change her name as she approached tower after tower of neatly labeled box, searching for the one holding the drapes to keep out the pesky beady eyes of her overenthusiastic lawn loving neighbors. The mere thought of them was enough to prompt a frown to her fair features. It was Morgan's suggestion to merely kill the neighbors, however, that brought Leila's attention back to the conversation at hand as she scoffed at the idea. There were, after all, rules to their vagabond lives - ones that Quinn and herself had established after thousands of years of a near murderous rampage across the globe and back. Nevermind that it was Leila herself that had broken those rules and been the cause of their move in the first place. She was content to entirely ignore her daughter's muttered response. Rather, Leila was far more focused on problem solving - a thing the fae was rather excellent at. In fact, yes, she was quite certain she knew the answer to both the problem of their lawn and her family's hunger. Really, the grass just needed better fertilizer...and Leila happened to know the perfect kind. A delightfully devious grin spread across her features as she turned back towards her husband, looking for some support of her wicked plan.

Ah! How quickly he understood the inner workings of her mind! And how it so endeared her to him! Leila, however, hardly took nearly as much offense to her husband's declaration that they took forever. "You cannot rush perfection, my love." She cooed, even as the sapphire of her gaze met the knowing glance of her daughter. The box of drapes were pulled from their position in the tower of boxes she stood before, only to be placed upon the coffee table for easy access later in the evening. Admittedly, Leila hadn't truly considered getting 'ready' for a night on the town. After all, to do so properly required a shower to wash away the sweat and ick from moving the entirety of the day, a sufficient amount of makeup, and finding her clothes in the mess of boxes that surrounded them. She hadn't expected the hand that gently reached out to wrap around her wrist, nor the soft, coaxing tugging of her husband now that Morgan had left them for her bedroom. "Oof!" She uttered in a soft sound of surprise as she was tugged on her husband's lap. A warm smile blossomed across her features at the gentle sensation of his lips against her cheek, only for that trail of sweet kisses to continue downward against her neck. "Quinn! You know that tickles!" She declared, with a soft giggle, though Leila made no effort to stop her husband.

It was the sudden brush of his fangs against her skin that immediately provoked Leila to pause. That flirtatious giggle vanished, replaced with a look far darker upon the youthful appearing fae's features. Oh, how she knew well the spell her blood could weave over her husband - how he craved the very taste of her, his infatuation with her the only thing stopping him from murdering her as he had countless others. The blue of her gaze turned towards him with a look far more...seductive, even as he muttered the very thought she too had contemplated. "....it has...." She muttered softly, all together aware of her husband's fingers as they trailed up her thigh. Leila hardly heard her daughter move down the stairs, the noise far too quiet for her sense and yet, it was the quick settling of her husband's hand in a far....safer area and the soft rumbling of her lover's voice that drew her gaze towards the stairs with a vague hint of surprise upon her features. How Morgan seemed to ignore them entirely as she tore open a box on the floor, only to rummage through the contents with far more noise then Leila was certain was necessary - children! An audible sigh left her lips as she leaned slightly into her lover's chilled, solid frame. His lips pressed against her shoulder all too sweetly before Quinn pointedly insisted Morgan hurry. "Quinn!" Leila chastised, even if her daughter was well versed in the realm of sex - some things, she was sure, belonged entirely to them.

Her daughter's insistence that they needed to 'get a room', however, caused her eyes to roll. "We own the whole house, Morgan! Any room is our room!" She half shouted after her daughter as the younger vampire fled with an unopen box in tow. Her head shook ever so slightly as her gaze turned towards her husband. "She is never going to get out of that teenage phase is she? Maybe we should have waited to turn her..." Her voice was entirely contemplative before she rose from her seat upon her husband's lap. "You heard Morgan, we don't want to be late, Quinn. Though heaven only knows what we're late for. If you're good..." She paused, several steps from her husband as she pivoted upon her heels to face him, backing up all the while towards the hallway that led to their bedroom. Her fingers brushed against the hem of her shirt as she moved. "I'll let you watch me undress." She teased as she lifted the cotton from her slender frame, only to throw it at him with a playful grin on her sweet heart lips. Oh, how she knew she would garner his attention!

A girlish shriek of glee left her lips as she watched her husband quickly rise from his seat, Leila dashed away from him, coaxing a measure of play from her lover as she led him to their bedroom, only for Quinn to catch her but the very moment she stepped into the doorway. His arms encircled around her waist, as she laughed, only to twist within his grasp just enough to face him again. "Tonight darling, I promise." She insisted, even if tonight meant 'in the morning', much less the fact that Leila was already exhausted from the move and the long drive during those daylight hours to their new home. She gestured briefly for her husband to settle on the chair, only for the woman to follow through with her promise to undress for him. The number of boxes within their bedroom were...sparse and yet, at the very least, Leila was able to find one filled with her clothing. She hardly fretted, for now, over how perfect her outfit was or if her hair was done neatly in a way she might otherwise have. After all, the fae knew how tonight would end and she had little desire to get blood on her...nicer things. Much less the fact that she still felt...well..dirty. In the end, she managed at least, something presentable before she made an effort to draw her husband towards her, only to press her lips sweet against his. "Come love, Morgan will be waiting...and you know how she gets." She teased as she reached for his hand, leading him from the room with a delightfully soft hum of some distant Belgian melody upon her lips.