Do You Want to Taco 'bout It? [Ulv]

Late evening in the home belonging to one Ulv Auber. The day's events were well and done, and the bustle from the harbor city outside dying down with the setting sun. Abigaíl lounged on the couch in the sitting room, as she usually did this time of day, curled up against the arm of the furniture in the gothic-styled maid's uniform Ulv had asked that she wear. In her hands, she had become engrossed in a particularly racy fantasy novel.

The redhead had originally tried to get her into a much smaller latex number, then a more traditional maid's uniform, but compromise prevailed, as she was quite fond of the clothes she now wore. The short skirt and high boots complimented her legs very well, even if she'd removed the latter to sit comfortably.

Of course, she didn't wear the outfit outside the home. It was for Ulv's eyes only, as thanks for letting her stay.

As her eyes slowly scanned the page and drunk of its story, her fingers played idly with the metal ring that hung from the tight collar of her corseted top. Though she had yet to catch the small quirk itself, even in all of her eight hundred years, it was easy to tell when she'd come to a more interesting part of the story, as her fingers would stop their fidgeting and instead hold the metal tightly.