@thchavestwitch
Kol’s fond of big cities and thus, usually prefers to live right smack in the middle of them. New Orleans is a very different story, though, so he’s perfectly happy to shack up with Davina in a quaint but stately little brick building tucked just outside the city limits. In fact, he’s ecstatic, though being surrounded by so much empty space will take some getting used to.
At least they can clutter their new hideaway with books and candles, records and flowers, spells and fancy glasses he could drink blood out of — oh, and luxurious sheets for their enormous bed. Anything they wanted, Kol would get. How could he not now that they were finally — finally — together after he spent fifteen years wrestling with the grief and sorrow of having lost her, of having hurt her? There’s guilt too ( a lot of it ), and Kol wonders if that’s partly why he’s so eager to fulfill Davina Claire’s every whim.
He knows it’s what gives him pause by the doorway, halting him long before the tips of his toes are just shy of touching that invisible barrier. Famously reckless and driven by his impulses, it’s not like Kol to hesitate. He tries to hide it, though, and thinks he manages well enough.
“On second thought,” he muses aloud, pretending that his small frown is a result of him contemplating the building’s beautifully weathered brick exterior, “It might be a tad small for my tastes...and all my stuff.” His brow wrinkles as he tries to joke, “I’m sort of a pack rat; admittedly one of my less charming qualities,” ( though, of course, he makes it look good ) “but...” his gaze flickers to Davina, lips quirking into a minuscule smile. I like keeping pretty things safe, he wants to say, yet the words remain unspoken. He shrugs ruefully, lips pursing as he feigns another thorough evaluation of mottled brick and fancy iron fixtures.