Sunlit eyes regard Vincent curiously from where he’s come to stop in the doorway, one knee bent to lend his posture a slight lopsided stance. There’s a towel thrown over his shoulder, and the nappy-clad posterior of one stubborn baby resting rather comfortably in his clawed hand while he pats at a small back with his right. He’d learned the hard way about needing something covering his shoulder during the burping process… and wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.
“Vincent? You okay?”
Slipping a pale hand beneath long, black hair, it ripples as he pulls it from beneath his collar. Long has he learned to keep the one attractive feature about himself hidden when hunting. “…Yes. Exhausted…well-fed." He looks back over his shoulder at his lover with their child. Damn that boy; at times there were merits, but currently…parenting is an obstruction.
