⸻ * / SNTSLUNAS

[fcntasize]

It was rare for Adrian to behave in such a way — jealous, possessive… rude. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him in that state. Friendliness had always been his forte — for as long as she knew her husband, he’d never been someone who sought out confrontation like a hunter in search of its prey. However tonight was different, and to say it caught her off guard would be an understatement.

Everyone who knew the couple were well aware of how madly besotted they were with each other — their love was intoxicating, reminiscent of some of the greatest love stories of all time. They could never get enough of each other, unafraid to flaunt their pure happiness to those around them, much to the annoyance of their friends and family who were simply sick of having to witness the love fest day after day.

He wanted to fuck you. The statement seemed utterly outrageous to her, provoking her to furrow her brows, unable to prevent a scoff to escape her lips. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s just being nice!” Despite giving her colleague the benefit of the doubt and seeing his interactions with her as innocent, she had to take a moment in an attempt to analyse all recent encounters with the man. Perhaps Jon did have a desire for her, but she had clearly missed it; a fact that made her feel a little guilty for displaying such naivety. After all, she only had eyes for her husband — flirtation from anyone else simply didn’t register in her mind it seemed.

“And even if he did, he never will.” The brunette stated firmly as she tilted her head slightly to catch her husband’s gaze. “Don’t waste your energy on him. It doesn’t matter.” She grabbed hold of his hand, interlacing their fingers together before pressing a kiss against the skin. “I’m yours. Body and soul.”

[sntslunas]

The longer he stares at her, the stronger something ugly stirs inside of him. It isn't aimed at her ⸻ Margot has never been a target of his anger, the profound disappointment her now feels. She could never, even during their extremely rare disagreements, Adrian never felt negatively aboit his wife. He is completely, unequivocally, ridiculously bewitched ⸻ body and soul. Like a chocolate bar too sweet even for healthy teeth, a sweet tea freezing cold. That's his love for her, his devotion. So no, the smoke rising inside of his finds no place in his wife's lungs, yet he can't seem to control it.

It disappoints him. His entire life he has been teaching himself complete control ⸻ of his body, his emotions, his reactions. Ever since he ran away from the orphanage, Adrian hardly allows himself moments of uncontrollable anger. Yet, here he stands, fingers curling into his palm and digging deeper into his wife's waist, wishing to hump her like he is nothing more than a dog in rut. He hates Jon, and for a man who rarely hates people, it takes him by surprise. Makes him unpredictable.

"Does he knows that?" The man thought he could touch his wife. His woman. Adrian's. For that, Adrian should have his hand cut. "It matters to me," he admits through clenched teeth, sealed lips. He hates it does, and he wishes he could prevent it. Yet, it seems the more animalistic part of him has taken over. "I should take you home. Or to an empty room. Claim you. Make sure if he dares come near you again, all he will smell is me." His head drops to her shoulder, and he growls. "I hate him."

[fcntasize]

The night had only just begun, but so far there had been no hiccups — something that seemed to be a rarity for Port Leiry, and considering the recent disturbance within her community, Margot welcomed the peace. All she wanted was to be able to enjoy the evening with her husband on her arm without a spike to her blood pressure or to be plagued with intense worry for those closest to her. Still, the night was young… who knew what was in store.

Swiftly, Adrian appeared by her side, hands gripped onto her waist and lips against her neck as she conversed with a colleague — a man a few months her junior who’d worked at the hospital just as long as she had… they’d always got along like a house on fire, a work bond that was purely platonic and professional, for Margot at least.

“Oh, forgive me, darling. This is Jon. We work together.” She replied sweetly, flashing her husband a smile, although, she noted the displeased look that lurked under his painfully fake smile.

It was clear that Jon picked up on the energy given off from the pther man, causing him to shift in his seat, the smirk that had previously sat upon his features morphing into a scowl.

Completely unsure of what was going on, the woman let out an uncomfortable chuckle, her gaze flickering back to Adrian. “I can’t believe I haven’t introduced the two of you before—“ Her words were then abruptly cut off by her coworker getting up from his seat and leaving. A move that was incredibly unexpected, for her at the very least. For someone who was known to sniff out anything that was hidden from her, but in this particular scenario? She was utterly clueless.

“Oh. Okay…” She began as she watched him disappear into the bar. “I don’t know what his problem was. I’m sorry, my love. He’s usually very nice. Funny too.”

[sntslunas]

The last thing Adrian would want is to cause a scene ⸻ he knows the importance of appearances in this kingdom she ruled over, this world of betrayals. He would never want Margot to lose one grain of respect because of him. But the man seemed to twist a knife in Adria's heart with his mere presence ⸻ mocking Adrian's place beside Margot by flirting with her. And his wife, bless her heart, was none the wiser. Adrian loved her, but he wished she could notice sooner when men were crossing the boundaries. This Jon wanted to be much more than coworkers. He smiles with clenched teeth, pulling her closer to him.

"Jon, eh? You never told me about him." Useless prick. He isn't one to think so ill of people ⸻ especially a man he is sure has done nothing wrong, in the grand scheme of things. But flirting with his wife is a mortal offense in his eyes. Heresy. This was his Goddess, and only he can worship her. His fingers dig in the soft skin of her hips, uncaring for the man's abrupt leave.

"Good riddance, asshole," he whispers, lips once more finding her neck as he presses gentle kisses to her warm skin, nose nuzzling the path of her jawline. Adrian doesn't know what gotten into him ⸻ he is not one for claiming gestures. But here he is, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into her, rut against her until everyone knows she belongs to him. "He wanted to fuck you," he says, a hint of anger in his tone.

[fengforhire]

She shakes her head but tries to give him a smile behind her mask. "It's okay, but you should take notes and see what we can recreate the next time I come over," she offers instead. In the safety of the home he's created with her mother, even if sometimes Jac never feels quite like she fits there. But her stepfather has always tried, and even now, she gravitates toward him in situations like this. She loves him, and only partially because of the way he makes her mother light up. She's never seen her with anyone else like she is with Adrian, and despite all of the difficulties she can have with her family, it at least makes her believe that real happiness exists, with the right people.

Jac looks up when he notices (he usually does), and she starts to refuse again out of instinct. She looks out on the dance floor and her brows furrow at the thought of trying to dance in the heels she has wedged her feet in. Maybe if she treated it like when she had gone to the roller rink, but there had been other factors at the time that helped her to forget how unsteady she was on her feet. But Adrian also knows her better than almost anyone, and instead offers the real prize, the chance to escape the scrutiny that comes with the family name. "We can dance a little but maybe off to the edge...?" she tries to compromise. So if she trips and falls on her face, a few less people might witness. "But it's okay if you want to go find Mom instead," she adds quickly. He was under no obligation to babysit her tonight (or any night).

[sntslunas]

He doesn't consider himself an amazing father ⸻ certainly not one poems would be written about. But he believes he tries enough ⸻ from the first moment Margot introduced him to the kids, he has tried to understand them and respect their wishes as much as he could. He could have intervened more, he knows, but he never thought his place as their mother's second husband allowed him to have a concrete say on their education. But he tried, and perhaps, guilty, he tried the most with Jac.

Yet, he can't help but feel like he failed her. Or failed to truly understand her. The burden on her shoulders is not a fair one ⸻ Adrian hates he can't do anything about it. "Maybe," he says, masking his sadness with the usual joy he feels around the kids. "You should invite me over to your apartment, so I can meet that roommate of yours. Oh! I can teach you my mom's recipes too!" Please, let me be involved in your life.

"It's that how you say you don't want to dance with me?" There's a smile on his face, hand reaching inside his pocket to fetch a pocksized version of a book he knows she likes ⸻ snuck into his pockets when Margot was getting ready. "Or would you prefer this?"

[sntslunas]

margot feng-luna, @bewiitcheds

the masquerade

He doesn't consider himself an overly possessive man ⸻ he is certainly not controlling, nor fragile enough to be upset when his wife has a life outside of him. He is often enough proud to show her off; she is stunning, breath-taking really. He loves having her in his arms, seeing her make rounds around the crowd, owning any room she is in. He brags about it. Yet, he is only human and when the man moves even closer to his wife, Adrian can't help but shift on his seat, anger building in the pit of his spine. He doesn't know who Margot is talking to, can't see through the mask ⸻ but he knows the man is aware of who he is speaking too. He knows the woman he is trying to impress with such peacock ways is married. What a dickhead.

He tries his best to be polite, not cause a scene. He trusts her undoubtedly ⸻ knows she would never lead anyone on like that. But the man's touching her arm, friendly to anyone but Adrian, sets him off ⸻ he is by Margot's side in a flash, arm settling on her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips press to the soft skin of her neck, nose nuzzling a trail up to the back of her ear. He looks at the man, then, smiling a poisonous smile. "My love," his voice is smug, veiled in anger, his smile too sharp. "Won't you introduce me to your friend?"

[fengforhire]

He finds her easily, something he's always managed to do since he joined their family. It's odd, how he has somehow seen her easier than the rest of the ones who are actually related to her by blood. He walked in by her mother's side, looking prouder than anyone about who he was escorting.

She takes the glass he offers and smiles behind her mask. No alcohol, of course not, despite the fact that she's been of legal drinking age for two years and counting. Not that Jac has gotten tipsy more than a handful of times, but Adrian doesn't need to know that either.

"Thanks, Adrian. M'not hungry though," she tells him. She ate before the party, a habit she'd gotten into when she was younger, when anxiety made her constantly worry that she might not like any of the food. It seems silly now, but at the time, Jac thought it would be the most horrifying thing in the world. "But it's fun... I think? It's okay." It's probably about as good of praise as she'd give it, when she'd rather be at home reading or baking or doing any number of other things. "How about you? Have you danced with mother yet?"

[sntslunas]

"Not even peckish? ⸻ You could have some bites here and there." He makes a few pinching motions with his free hand, drunk on nothing but happiness and pride of his family. He is not one to brag, but he likes to when it comes to them ⸻ his children are the best children out there, his wife is the prettiest, and he is happy. He just wishes he could get Jac out of her shell sometimes. But if that's where she wants to be, he vows to make it a comfortable beautiful place for her.

He giggles. "We got a few swirls, yeah! That woman can move." He whistles, coy and joyful, just a boy with a crush again. He watches her, then, brows furrowed and concern growing in his chest. Placing his plate of shrimps on a passing tray, he nudges her shoulder with his, smiling. "How about me and you get some dances in too, huh? Maybe find you some good food. I brought my handbag, we can fill it with whatever you like." He knows Jac, however, wants to see her well and happy, so he sighs. "Maybe we can even sneak you out early, whatchu think?"

[tallulahkia]

Tallulah hummed a melody that wouldn't be familiar to most people here, her love for South Africa would always be rooted in her, be it in the country, the language or the music; she'd always carry it with her, no matter where she went. This reminded her - she'd totally forgot to grab the old radio that still sat collecting dust in one of the crates. The thing had gone through so many years of existence, of being beat around, of smelling and looking green, the radio was so old it even contained an antenna.

Fixing up the bouquet of flowers she'd been working on as she put it in a pretty vase for show, she pulled a face clearly for Adrian to see. ''You won't scare me! Vampires don't exist, Adrian! Just like witches, no matter how much I'd like for them and for magic to be real, there's no such thing in the real world.'' It was why she read so many books, why she sought those happy fantasies in television and in her imagination.

Sarcasm coated her voice as she hit him with the; ''ha-ha, jy is so snaaks!'' at his pornography comment, which translated into 'ha-ha, you're so funny!' Taking the radio out now, the redhead liked to inform further on the matter, ''for the record, there's a...rather explicit store not far from the library where they sell such things! So I wouldn't need to go to a bookstore for that!'' Though explaining herself with a quick follow-up, ''....not that I would go to that store, not unless someone dumps very graphic stuff at our counter and thinks we would give that stuff out at the library.''

[sntslunas]

He wishes her comments were true ⸻ that vampires were merely a thing of horror books and trashy movies. But he knows too well of the monsters lurking in the dark, the dangers they face by simply living here in Port Liery. He wishes to tell her the truth, but part of him doesn't want to break her innocence ⸻ it's better if she doesn't know. He will keep giving her tea with verbana for protection, keep her full moon nights busy with dinners. It's better this way.

He rolls his eyes at the face. "They might exist, you don't know. If witches don't exist, who keeps stealing my one left sockets?"

Not Margot, he knows; witches have no desire for sockets with holes in them. But maybe it is magic that keeps making them disappear ⸻ or his own clumsiness. "You know, I found a porno book once in the library. Fifth shades of purple or something." He didn't read it, merely replaced it back on the shelves and continued to search for what he was looking for. It's still fun to tease her about it. "If they don't sell spicy books, then why are you so excited about this shop? It must be special, to get you talking about it."

[matteolazkano]

closed  — @sntslunas

He'd always chosen the closest bars to his house — usually the one that was packed and lively. The wolf loved to see people having fun and dancing, laughter filling up the space. Granted, with his condition, no one was safe around him, but he was already three tequila shots in — senses were beginning to dull. Lost a couple of real friends along the way, Matteo was hoping he'd find a few new ones, in the face of someone worthy of his trust.

Then he heard him on the phone. The bartender. He had a kid as well — probably older than Addie, but a kid was still a kid. Ten, fifteen or twenty years old — your child would forever be just a child to you.

"Kid giving you trouble?" dark eyes met the other man, shot glass meeting his lips, "Sorry — didn't mean to overhear — but I've been there, man."

[sntslunas]

Adrian never imagined children in his future ⸻ he wasn't the fatherly type, too rough around the edges, far too sharp and too childish to help someone grow. Yet, when he fell head first for Margot, he found himself with six little buggers he loved to death, and well ⸻

"No matter how much they grow, they will always be your babies, right?"

Step children always felt wrong to him ⸻ the kids might not been his by blood, but they were his children nonetheless, were they not? To care for, make sure they are okay, to protect and love. Even the headaches are welcomed, honestly.

"My daughter can't figure out how her stove work, apparently." He has to fight the urge to drop everything and run to her apartment, cook an entire seven course meal for her. Instead, he throws his cloth over his shoulder, smiling. "Burned her ramen, if you can believe it. How old is yours, if you don't mind me asking?"

[sntslunas]

jac feng, @fengforhire

He feels utterly out of place in things like this ⸻ before Margot, the closest he would get of a suit was when he stole the cashier of a fancy store. Yet here he stands, lost, unwilling to mingle, watching the crowd and daring himself to catch familiar faces. He doesn't have his glasses now, though, so the task is harder than he expected.

He knows his family ⸻ it still feels weird to have a family ⸻ despite their masks, and it isn't hard to find his baby girl in the crowd.

"Hey, got you a drink," he greets, holding out the glass for her to take. "No alcohol though." She would always be a kid to him. Even if not his, he has always treated her as blood of his own blood. "The food is really good." He takes a bite. "Have you tried it? I wonder if they will let me ask the chef for the recipe." He looks at the waiters, wants to catch their attention. He sighs. "You doing okay, kid? Having fun? Do you wanna dance or something?"

[fcntasize]

⠀« CLOSED » for @sntslunas !

LOCATION — the feng-luna love shack.

On top of the usual work stresses, Margot’s blood pressure had truly been put to the test amidst the insanity that the witches attack caused amongst Port Leiry’s covens, along with the recent revelation amongst the townspeople about Jac’s powers. Truly, it had been a nightmare of a week.

Being the head of the Feng-Lindon coven, the brunt of it was up to her to deal with — it was nothing she hadn’t experienced in the past, but that didn’t lessen the tension it brought, not only to her and her coven, but the rest of the community.

The moment the dark haired woman returned home, a sigh of relief escaped her lips — ready to kick back and relax after such a gruelling day. Her husband was her remedy for times like that; he just had a way about him that a simple touch from him was capable of ridding her of any worry in the world.

Stepping out of the master bedroom and closing the door behind her, Margot pulled her baggy black sweatshirt over her head, the sound of keys jiggling in the door captured her attention — a signal that her husband (unless any of her children decided to make a surprise visit) had returned.

“Is that you, my darling?” She called out, her voice sounding almost melodic as she turned the corner into the living room, her eyes landing on her husband, her lips curving into a bright smile — the kind only he was able to provoke. “I was just wondering when you’d get home! I’ve been missing you all day.”

[sntslunas]

He knows the stress placed upon his wife's shoulders must feel like Sisyphus's boulder, Atlas's universe. He is unquestionably proud of Jac, despite the strain it causes on the family dynamic he has always been careful not to disturb ⸻ that's his baby girl, the light of his eyes. He wants her to be as powerful as her mother, just as respected, shine brighter than the sun.

But he is well aware of the dangers it presents, with the recent attacks worrying him out of his mind. His family was in the eye of the hurricane, and he couldn't do shit to protect them.

He knows his wife must be under a lot pressure, so he wishes to make something special for her tonight ⸻ freshly baked dinner, a huge bouquet of flowers, wine and scented candles. It took him longer than expected to gather it all, but when he finally enters his house, he can't help smiling as he throws his jacket in the closet. "That's me, my love. Sorry, the store ran late tonight. "

If possible, he beams even more when he catches a glimpse of the smile she saves only for him. He is a lucky man ⸻ to be chosen and loved by her. He vows to cherish and worship her every day for as long as she allows him to. It's why he presents her with the bouquet, assembled by him from his personal garden. "Flowers for my flower," he jokes, approaching her for a kiss.

He desires for more, of course he does, when it comes to her. But he controls himself, nodding. "I hope you are hungry, love."

[tallulahkia]

Where: Portside Flea Market Who: @sntslunas

''Looks like the weather's clearing up already, didn't I say so?'' she teased Adrian with a swift tap against his elbow, the twig of willow catkins she hit him with softened the blow. A 'told you so' kind of chuckle left her mouth before she shifted her gaze back to the flower bouquet she'd been in the process of putting together. The morning was still young, most of the stands weren't even occupied yet. She delicately cut the thorns off the roses, dusted some leaves in glitter and added some gorgeous dahlia's with gradient petals that went from rose to white to create some diversity. Wrapping the bouquet in store stamped paper, she added some golden colored curling ribbon for decoration. ''So - I heard there's a bookstore in town I haven't checked out before, it's not even that far from here, and it's open for most of the evening, I might just check it out tonight!''

[sntslunas]

“Yes, yes, you did say so,” there's fondness hidden beneath his mock grumbling, a fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he watches his niece work the flowers with the hands of a professional. He is terribly glad she is here with him now, instead of out there with her parents who Adrian isn't the most fond of. Not anymore. He lets her do all of the work despite his affection, for he is old and sipping stale lukewarm coffee from a plastic cup. The morning is beautiful, but Adrian knows it might not be like this all day. He just hopes they get to have a good sales morning. “Most of the night, eh?” He is leaning on one of the backtables, half seated, watching her carefully with kind eyes. “Maybe it's owned by a vampire,” the deep and scary voice he uses is for her entertainment, hoping she doesn't catch the true worry in his tone. He giggles after, for good measure. “Why would a bookstore need to stay open late in the night? Do they sell pornography?”

[retrospectral]

closed starter for @sntslunas where/when: Morgan's house, afternoon

His text was likely more a courtesy for himself, a warning for her. Kinder than outright asking if she had pants on at this point in the day, which was... not always a guarantee on days where she didn't have to open the arcade herself. Morgan would have expected that sort of direct talk from Adrian after all these years, but he'd been exceedingly gentle with her in the months since Bradley's passing.

She suspected he needed the gentleness too.

Morgan was grateful that of all the people who had drifted away from them over the years, Adrian never had. In fact, it was only a brief number of years between the Moss wedding and Port Leiry, and somehow in that time they'd all found themselves up in the Pacific Northwest together again. She loved Adrian, and loved how much he'd loved Brad -- even if sometimes she still couldn't tell if he was joking about the ass tattoo or not.

So she made herself presentable but not formally so -- it was Adrian, after all -- and let him in. He visited frequently, especially lately, where their shared grief settled over them like a weighted blanket -- comforting but oppressive all at once. Usually, Morgan would leave the door unlocked but... it didn't feel right today. Maybe she craved the company.

"Hey, Adrian. You're actually here at a great time. I bought this bread pudding yesterday I can't finish, if you want some."

[sntslunas]

Life is cruel to those who want to be kind; he knows this deeply in his bones, carved into marrow. Adrian never once received an honest I'm sorry for your loss when his mother passed; people walked on eggshells around him before tossing him in the orphanage, where nuns would make him pray and call him ungrateful for being sad. The only one who cared was Felix ⸻ listened to him talk about his mom for hours, then took him for milkshake the morning after.

But Felix was ripped from him much as his mom was, and no kind words were given to him about it either. He knows life isn't fair, knows kindness doesn't beget kindness ⸻ you are most likely to be burn, if you aren't made of sharps of broken glass.

But he still didn't expect Morgan, out of all the people, would have to go through this. He loves Bradley like a brother ⸻ often joked the man was his soulmate. Yet, his grief can't even compare to hers, and Adrian doesn't want her to go through painful loneliness that will turn her heart into a void. It's why he bakes the chocolate bread, why he buys her favorite food. The text is a mere courtesy ⸻ he has made a copy of their house key in case of emergencies.

But he knocks, and waits, and smiles when she opens the door. “Bread pudding?” He echoes, lifting the plate where a freshly loaf of bread is partially hidden by a cloth, chuckling. “Well, I brought you more food. Warm, fresh, delicious food. May I come in?”

[sntslunas]

case     file          :          luna     ,     adrian           1975     ,     new orleans  

       

basics.

full name . . . ; adrian luna nicknames . . . ; dilf, adri association . . . ; feng-lindon coven, by proximity birthplace . . . ; new orleans occupation . . . ; owns a bar, and a flower shop date of birth . . . ; july 24, 1975 status . . . ; married sexuality . . . ; bisexual pronouns . . . ; he/him languages . . . ; english, spanish scars . . . ; has claw marks scar on his left arm tattoos . . . ; full sleeve, a chest tattoo, a tattoo on his ass (brad's name inside a heart) piercings . . . ; none positive traits . . . ; charming, kind, selfless, loyal negative traits . . . ; reckless, impulsive, childish connections . . . ; margot feng-luna . . . wife / / tallulah kia . . . niece / / bradley moss . . . best friend, his soulmate / / jac . . . step daughter

BIOGRAPHY.

TW: Violence, Death

You open your eyes - white ceiling fills your blurry vision and the reek of stale sterilizer invades your nostrils. Who are you? A blank sheet lacking traces of smudged ink on the corners, no guidance or traits to follow. You've come to shape yourself into Adrian Luna; a boy abandoned by his father, and raised in New Orleans by a mother who tried to give him the world. His reasonings were never made known, the biggest mystery you would come to ignore; you are wholly apathetic to the situation. Your mother had teached you everything she knows, but she never prepared you for the grief you would feel when she passed. You were 9, crying at a funeral home all by yourself. You became an orphan, then. 

The orphanage staff dejectedly acknowledged you had certain difficulties with the few candidates that showed interest in you; no one said it was solely your fault. You were a shy child caught up in the ideas swirling in your mind, unable to truly bond with people outside your daydreams and your grief. They were frustrated the more you grew, causing you to hide inside a shell you weren't sure if was comfortable. Your grades hadn't faltered despite the turbulent emotional situation you walked through, even when the people who raised you gave you away. 

You were thirteen and alone sitting inside a bus to New York City, meager belongings packed inside a backpack you never lost sight of. The details were unknown to you; contacts were called and favors asked, a one way ticket bought to an orphanage in the city that never sleeps your birthday gift. You refused to ask questions or shed any tears; by then, you were accustomed to pain. Your first impression of New York wasn't pleasant; the city was too loud and bright for your eyes, the people barely glancing at you on the streets. You are nothing if not adept, though, and the top bunker bed of your shared room soon became a home. The other children were wary of you at first, but soon tried their best to include you in their circles. There were many of them, some you consider siblings now, and loyalty ran strong through the gray halls of the old building. It made school easier, to have so many people watching your back. Felix became your home, then. 

Even when you began bouncing from foster home to foster home, the loyalty you felt to him didn't dwindle in the slightest, despite the difficulty to hang out. The faint loneliness opened doors for you to discover a passion of yours; cars. One of your foster sisters was tangled up in messes you would never understand, but her skills behind a wheel were unmatched - thankfully, she had the patience to teach you. When it became clear adoption wasn't in your near horizon, you and Felix stole a car and began your adventure through the roads of America. He was bit by a wolf months later, and the first full moon after that was the scariest thing you had gone through: locked in your car, arm bleeding, trying not to breathe too loud. The two of you adapted, as you would, and met Bradley Moss in Santa Cruz. He became a best friend to the both of you, one you sadly left behind after Felix was killed by hunters. You never told Brad the truth, only packed your bags and traveled the world. 

In South Africa, you became friends with the Kia's, their daughter becoming a beloved niece to you. And when you finally returned to the USA, settling in Port Liery, you worked in a bar until you had enough money to open your own flower shop. Margot came naturally after that. You loved her from the first moment you saw her. And things just settled into place.