|Leanan sídhe (requitedly) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2012-04-07 03:04:00
|Entry tags:||leanan sidhe, wilhelm grimm|
WHO: Leanne and Wil Grimm
WHAT: Poor Wil coming to Leanne for more inspiration
WHEN: Good Friday? What day is today?
WHERE: Leanne's loungey apartment
When Wilhelm Grimm said Leanne had left the city in order to show him just how much he needed her, he was absolutely right. Not that she would ever admit it to him. It was the game she played, and it had it's risks. Her trip only proved she had her claws tightly into the Grimm brother. He was suffering without her, even as she had suffered without him. Her game was a two-way-street. She fed off of him as much as he did her, and so when Wil said he was coming over, it was a great relief to the Leanan sidhe.
She did, of course, act like she was none the worse for being separated from him for a week. She got out her whiskey and a few glasses, and she made sure the bed was neat and respectable in case that was where they ended up. She had food around, intending to coddle him and lavish him with affection. It was her way. She left the door open for him and waited.
Well, she seemed to be very open to his return. When Wil got to the top of the stairs, he stopped, taking in the bare woman and all the things she had out to entertain him with.
"Hello," he said, closing the door behind him.
He'd lost weight, there was no doubt about that, and he hadn't been that big to start with. He was pale, but his cheeks were pinkish, hinting at fever. His eyes were shadowed with lack of rest. When he was riding the high from her, sometimes he found himself so full of ideas that he couldn't physically write them down. He just stared wide-eyed at the wall for minutes on end, the images playing out in front of him, only the tail end of them making it to the page. And there was the cough, and then the coughing up blood, both of which he did his best to hide from Jacob. It was easy to hide things from Jacob right now. Wil would have been a little hurt if he'd been paying attention.
"Enjoy your trip?"
His presence washed over Leanne like relief. She stepped towards him, smiling widely. "Not as much as I enjoy coming home to you," she said absolutely honestly. "Come here, my darling. You look a little poorly."
Wil sighed and walked to her, falling into her embrace with a feeling of relief. He could relax properly at last, and he felt a little better already. "Why do you torment me so?" he murmured, his arms tight around her, bending over so he could bury his face in her shoulder.
Leanne wrapped her arms around him as well, and she slid her hands up his back. The poor dear. She would take care of him.
"I would never mean to cause you torment," she lied. "Come here my love." She took his hand gently and led him over to her luxurious sofa. "You look peckish. You can sit right there and I could bring you something to eat. When was the last time you fed yourself, silly boy?"
"I ate... yesterday," Wil said, meekly letting himself be led to the couch. "I am a bit hungry." Already, her influence was beginning to work on him, and lost threads of thought were beginning to reassert themselves. He took the food she offered him and ate it ravenously, as if only just remembering the taste of it.
Leanne sat beside Wil as he inhaled his food, and she gently stroked his shoulder all through it. Yes, she made all things better. She filled empty bellies and took all the pain away. That was how he should see her.
"There you go, precious. Mein Schatz." She spoke the German word for treasure because she knew it would mean something to him. Thank everything for Google Translate. "You look a little better already." She ran her fingers through his hair and then she kissed his cheek. "Are you ravenous for anything else?"
Sated for now, Wil put his plate to the side and smiled at Leanne. "Always," he replied, leaning in to kiss her. A kiss had never been so sweet to him as this one. "Do you have anything good to drink?"
Leanne kissed him back, feeling a little heady as she pulled away. "I got some whiskey after you came over last time. I didn't think you wanted wine again," she said against his lips.
"Whatever you have, I'm happy," Wil replied, his gaze drifting to her shapely legs and butt as she got up. "Did you lose all your clothes in Disneyland too?"
"No, I did that just for you," she said, turning back to grin at him over her shoulder. She grabbed the whiskey and the glasses and then she returned to him. "I got mouse ears for you!"
"Mouse ears!" Wil exclaimed, taking his glass. Alcohol on a system as shaky as his would work quickly. "That was very nice of you. And so was- that." He nodded to her body. "Trying to drop a hint?"
"You need me to drop hints now!?" she asked with faux-horror. "This is because I see no reason not to show you all of me." She didn't need to sleep with him to feed off of him. She just found that her allure tended to make her artists want to sleep with her. And she wasn't going to say no if he did.
"Bet you say that to all the boys." Wil smirked a little and sipped his drink. He liked her good humour, and that she smiled at him, and that her home was so comfortable, and that she gave him what he wanted. He was possibly drinking his whisky a little faster than he should be, but it tasted good and he felt so much better.
Leanne neither agreed nor disagreed, she simply sipped her own drink and then she inched forward and ran her hand up his thigh. "You're the only one here now, aren't you?"
"You're a very distracting person," Wil said, his own fingers running over the back of her hand. "It reminds me of a story." He fished in his pocket for the pen he'd brought with him, on the off chance he'd become inspired and had to note it down. He started writing on her hand, beginning on the back and around to the palm, and then up the inside of her wrist toward her elbow. "I didn't invent this one, but I retold it for our collection," he murmured as he wrote. "A woman with a distracting talent for spinning straw into gold..."
"I'm your canvas if you want," Leanne mused to him, moving so he could write easier. "I like gold. It's beautiful and it shines. Like you."
Wil smiled. "Like you," he countered, writing up her upper arm to her shoulder. "Rumplestiltskin as a goblin who steals babies- a metaphor in this case for my brain children. My ideas. When you are not around to help me spin gold, the goblin comes and steals it all. Or I had nothing to start with..." He trailed off, the pen hesitating on her collarbone as the notion sunk in. What had he been doing before Leanne?
"You had it, Wil. You just needed a little help, and that's where I come in." She reached out and took his hand so she could lean in and kiss him while he wasn't distracted writing all over her.
"Oh," Will said, kissing her back. The pen slid away, leaving a long black line in its wake. How did she smell so good? Everything about her was appealing.