♛ Lestat was in the middle of signing a stack of checks, making sure each one had his perfect flourish of a signature. Of course, normally, Louis would handle these financial details, but Lestat meant to keep these purchases secret – at least for now – and, as if sent on a mission, Louis’ little minion was here! Lestat could smell Louis’s scent on the animal, she must have enjoyed a recent cuddle. Infuriating.
“Lucky for you that I don’t snack in the house anymore… You mewling quim!” He smirked at himself, pleased at the little pop culture reference that only Daniel, had he been within earshot, would’ve truly appreciated. Lestat merely glanced at her with an arched brow… he rarely attempted to pet Willow. She would toy with him, letting him reach for her, before jumping away. Why did Louis insist on keeping these creatures that clawed at furniture, knocked over porcelain and glassware, and incessantly whined to be let out, only moments later to be heard crying out pitifully at the door begging for reentry??! Their habits were confounding. How Louis drew any love from the little beasts was similarly puzzling. Dogs were simply lovable, cats were an enigma at best. He grunted and attempted to ignore her.
Willow stared at Lestat for a moment more. ‘Alright, you asked for it.’ She jumped up on the desk, spilling the ink on whatever he’d been writing on. Louis could be heard from the other room. ‘Good. Salvation is close by. Wonder if Harriet is as well?’ The other cat had seemed friendly enough. Willow hadn’t really set a time to pester Lestat; it just happened she was walking by. The blonde vampire looked about to explode at the orange ball staring straight at him now. ‘Do I have your attention?’ she purred.
♛ Ink splashed across all of the checks, effectively ruining them. And the sleeves of his violet Versace shirt. Staring at fingers slicked with black, and sprinkled with cat hair – as if tarred-and-feathered – Lestat trembled with the beginnings of a rage. Oh, this was too much. That conceited little creature… sitting there on the edge of the desk, absently licking her paw and swiping it across her own ear. Was she purposely making eye contact?! It seemed so.
“Willow. You’ve been a very – very – naughty little girl.” Lestat growled, fixing her with a death glare. What to do? Could there be a way to kill her and get away with it? He quickly scanned his memory of the episodes he’d seen of Forensic Files. No animal murders covered. Perhaps he could arrange an accident… for now, he gathered up the ruined papers and stripped his shirt off, balling the whole mess into the bin, contemplating his next move.
I-want-my-IWTV 