*sings* I'm baaack! Enjoy loves. Please R&R:)
Things to know: AU. Oneshot. Jazz club. Elena's a college student. Elijah is his professional, heart removing self. For mood, maybe listen to the part of John Coltrane's Love where the tenor sax comes in. I own nothing.
10:28 pm
Elijah swirled the dregs of his white russian in the bottom of the glass, musing as to just what had driven him to drink that night; and then it hit him all over again. And here he'd nearly forgotten. He smiles faintly, although if there had been a mirror nearby, he might have thought it was more of a grimace. Klaus glances over at him, from his sketchpad across the room, an eyebrow raised in what would be construed as concern if he didn't know Klaus.
6:16 pm, that same night
Elijah opens the door to the tiny jazz club that he's been frequenting for the past ten years. The warm smell of the air and sweat that differs so greatly from the icy bite of the outside November breeze dizzies his senses for a fraction of a second before they right. The haziness of cigar smoke clouds his sight and burns his nostrils. He takes his usual spot in the corner. Tonight, it's a tenor sax and piano duet playing soft ballads, and it superimposes a melancholia on the club, and its sparse patronage. The sound of the door bell intrigues every ear in the club, but no heads turn. This establishment is nothing if not classy and tactful. Elijah's head does turn when a beautiful brunette sits down next to him, dressed in a navy overcoat, and black jeans and a scarf, nursing a bourbon. Her eyes are closed, head nodding in time with the piece playing, so he thankfully has some time to stare and compose himself before things travel down the awkward path. They sit, Elijah and the mystery brunette, in companionable silence through two songs, her eyes never once opening, but her breathing pattern indicating that she is still awake. He taps her shoulder, and she blinks, her wide brown eyes adjusting to the presence of a greater amount of light. "Would you like to dance?" he asks. She nods, and offers her hand. They walk over to the dance floor, and assume hands-on-shoulders-and-backs and begin to sway slowly. Elijah lessens the space between them and whispers softly, into her ear, "What are you doing here? I know you're not a regular…"
She laughs softly, and it is like a small silver bell ringing, "Just drinking and enjoying a little jazz." They keep swaying, and it suddenly occurs to Elijah that he doesn't even know her name. They sit down again, and Elijah notices her glass is empty.
"Shall I refill your drink, Miss…"
"Elena, and thank you, but no. I need to be sober enough to drive. And you are?"
"Elijah."
Her demeanor doesn't change, so he knows that she knows nothing of the supernatural. They sit, Elijah wondering who she is, but not wanting to come across as strange for asking, and Elena, entirely consumed by the flow of music from the duet in the back.
She stands, and smiles softly at him. "Thank you for keeping me company tonight. Unfortunately, I must be going."
There is a pause, where she leans in and his eyes unfocus a little bit, but then she turns back to her drink and downs the rest of it in one go.
"See you around?" asks Elijah.
"Perhaps," she replies, with a very small smile. She walks towards the staircase at the bottom left of the club, and walks up it for the door. The bell jangles, and a new crowd of well-chilled people enter after Elena. Elijah stands, and stretches, and heads for the door as well.
10:32 pm
Elijah lay awake, eyes boring holes into the ceiling, his mind unwilling to settle down. She was just a woman who had wandered in coincidentally. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to not care. She was an enigma, and that was all. An enigma in the smoke. He'd missed talking to someone he couldn't read within seconds of meeting them. He lets out a heavy sigh, and settles in for what will undoubtedly be a fitful night.