* ‍ 𝒾𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡 ‍ ᴸᴵᵀᵀᴸᴱ ‍ 𝓴𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓 ‍ .ᐟ

* ─┉ 𝓉he street's a liar, i'm gonna 𝓁𝑢𝑟𝑒 you into the dark ... my cold 𝒹𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 to hear the 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑚, 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑚 of your 𝒽𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡, the danger is i'm 𝒹𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠 and i might just 𝓉𝑒𝑎𝑟 you apart !

* ღ. 𝒹arling darling doesn't have a prob͟l͟e͟m ; 𝑙𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 to herself, cause her liquor's ┉ top shelf. it's alarm͟i͟n͟g, honestly how 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 she can be 𝒻ooling everyone, telling 'em she's having fu͟n.

you got a taste for blood when you were licking your own wounds.

⠀ㅤdon't get me wrong i know it's hard to love me ; 'round and around , an emotional junkie .

* 𝒊. at 𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 drain the stream of life ; yet loathe the banquet which perforce must 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑑 thy livid living corpse : thy victims ere they yet expire shall know the demon for their 𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒.

She weighs practically nothing, and yet he makes an audible 𝑜𝑜𝑓 when she lands. “Pretty,” he agrees, laughter tinging his voice. He tips back her head by the chin, looking her over in the sunlight “Wouldn’t you prefer exploring—?”

He lifts a hand above his face, squinting through his fingers at the sky. He’s exhausted— and sunlight does not help. “Find me something pretty, hm?” he murmurs, relaxing against the maple’s trunk.

It’s a rather long trek to the gardens, but he takes his time. Watching the little fledgling skip through the house just ahead of him. Once outside, he finds the nearest offer of shade and seats himself in the grass beneath a maple.

Gazing down at her with a softened smile. Knuckles trace the curve of her jaw. He always has time for her. “Oui— for a little while,” he agrees, motioning toward the bedroom door.

He’s rolling his eyes— giving her a stern look when tiny fangs nip at his hand. “No, we won’t let her, will we?” he replies, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

“𝑺𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒕,” he slowly repeats. Nodding, when she pronounces the word clearly. Head offers a hand, gathering her up in his arms so he might set her on the ground. “Yes— he’s yours,” he laughs, kissing the top of her head.

He’s sure it won’t last. The vampire falls silent as he focuses on the little creature peering up at him. Its head tilts one way and then another. Blinking. Chittering. “He says his name is Sprout.”

His hand lifts, and with the tip of his index finger, he gently taps her nose. “Shall I speak to him?” he asks, stepping closer the wardrobe and leaning down. Head tilting to one side as two little eyes gaze up at them.

There’s a soft smile— a quiet hum as his head cants just enough to find the profile of her face. “Perhaps, it already has a name—?” It would be rude not to ask.

“A wise decision,” the vampire agrees, standing to his feet. Book abandoned— though he did manage to mark the page before she interrupted— he moves from the study to her bedroom.

What an absurd question Brows furrow. He’s trying not to laugh at how absolutely cliche the whole thing is. “I believe he would prefer to hang—“ tilting his head to one side, “—upside down, non?”

She wants to bite everything. Mostly him. The creature, now somewhat at ease, blinks softly up at the pair. Leon lifts his hand, offering the little fledgling her newest companion. Nos will be 𝒔𝒐 pleased. “I think your wardrobe would suit it better.”

Leon smiles to himself. 𝐸𝑛𝑡𝘩𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑎𝑠𝑚. Partially focused on the use of magic, a drawn moment passes before he answers her. “And where will it 𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑒𝑝—?” he asks, lowering his hand to reveal the bat in much better health. Fixed.