This soon-to-be collection of (un)related One-Shots is inspired by all the love I feel for Kolvina. Please take heed of the rating changing from chapter to chapter (you've been warned ;)) Either way, enjoy!

Kisses,

stefan-deserves- romance

"And though the mere thought of it perturbed him, he knew it was no sign of weakness to let her take him by the hand."(Rated T)

"Enjoying your snack?"

Hello, hello
Anybody out there? Cause I don't hear a sound

If it weren't for his newly achieved vampire hearing, he wouldn't have heard the softly whisper of that one voice which not so long ago had meant the world to him. With the rain bucketing down as it hadn't had since Noah built the arc, everything was becoming a blur. Sharp contours morphed into vague silhouettes. At days like these even the most origin vampires had a hard time to see their hand in front of their faces, or so he told himself to prevent the poison that was his own existence from eating him alive.

Alone, alone
I don't really know where the world is but I miss it now

It's the small things in life that separate humans from animals or monsters from angels.

Kol didn't bother to look up; wrenching his teeth from some random girl's neck, he exposed an utterly frazzled carotid hanging loosely from the wound like a vine twining around a tree.

He felt her presence ensnaring him. For two cents he would turn around, cradling her in his arms and never let her go. But the rain drenching him to the core was like a wake-up call curing him from his lovesick phantasies. They had been there. They had done that. It hadn't worked out.

To make a mess had been his trademark. After 1,000 years of vampirism he couldn't really tell if it's a spawn of his dark soul or a shy boy's chaste attempt to lean up against proclaimed orders. Whichever the answer might be, sometimes the answer doesn't matter as it doesn't change the outcome.

He'd made his way back to New Orleans. The wily fox had yet again cheated death by laughing the Grim Reaper right in his ugly face. Literally. It has been said that third time's the real charm, but to be absolutely clear here, he still might be impulsive, psycho and occasionally self-centred, but he was no fool. He wasn't playing the full desk anymore; being outnumbered, tossed around like a pet and once again betrayed by his own siblings, had robbed him of every ace he might or might had not hidden up his sleeve. He'd already had his third time. The choice to die or live had never been his and it made him feel like trash.

I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name
Like a fool at the top of my lungs

The girl's dead body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes creating a loud pattering sound as it made the puddle splash loudly, helping him to wash away his evident crime without washing his hands in blood. Rill after rill of this petite life source streaming out of the dead body's wound going to waste. Hadn't his mother told him not to play with his food?

His back still turned to the nerve-wrecking little witch whose sole presence made him sick, he admired the beauty of blond hair becoming saturated with muddy water and blood, unable to force back in the laugh he hadn't even known he held. And though his voice was made of an angelic ring, all the months of being dead, resurrected, killed and yet again brought back to life, left him feeling nothing than pitch-black emptiness to infiltrate his every pore, till such time as there would be nothing left of who he once thought he could have been, his laugh would morph into a dark devilish bark erupting from deep within his stone of a heart. It wasn't carefree nor was it relaxing or bringing joy. It was dark, loud, violent and empty. It was Kol Mikaelson personalized;

Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright
But it's never enough

The six months he'd been blessed with as a mortal being, might have been short compared to his vampire existence. But he'd learned the hard way that every impression, however fleeting, leaves its mark. Being back to his vampire self-did have its perks and yet again, all his so called experience weren't helping him one bit as the torture began to take the upper hand. Easy to tell, he'd been out of practise. When again, it dawned on him that maybe, his problem was rooted in the simple and stupid fact, that he never saw the deeper meaning of applied self-composure. Being an Original meant to be beyond any doubt. Kol Mikaelson had never seen the reason for Elijah's self-denial. But he was seeing it now.

Cause my echo, echo
Is the only voice coming back

He would never tell anyone – not his siblings and certainly not Davina – how he truly felt. He would just maintain the mask and go his own way, ignoring the piercing feeling clawing at his insides signalling him something he already knew, but had tried to cast away as far as his willpower would allow; His life, once so full of adventure, fun and yes, love had turned out to be a one-way street. He wouldn't tell them how he wanted to throw up from time to time as fighting against one of his most basic urges became almost unbearable. Like a ship on high waves he was being tossed and turned between giving in and staying strong. He hadn't wanted to hurt his love or to hear Marcellus sarcasm-filled voice telling everyone far and wide "I told you so." But he had clearly missed the boat, provided that there had been a boat for him in the first place. He wasn't sure about that, but it had been nice to hope as long as possible.

My shadow, shadow
Is the only friend that I have

If there's life, there's hope.

Life's full of platitude, and each of them sucks worse. If you live long enough, you'll come to your senses taking well-meant advices for what they truly are: the last straw catchable when everything else has already turned to dust. There is no such thing like everlasting hope.

There couldn't be.

For that which must not, might very well be possible?

Poor little Emma. Judging by his current mental state, remembering his victim's name proved to be just another painful reminder of what had been taken away from him. He didn't want to remember, he didn't want to refer to her as poor and little. As someone, who's future had shone so brightly that it almost had him blinded. The sole awareness how he'd taken her life out of fun, yes, but mostly out of jealousy – jealousy of something he'd never have access to – made all this so unbearable for him. The wily fox had turned into fucking pussy. All he had left were his charms and a persistent determination to save appearances for as long as possible and even beyond.

"Thank you for your concern. Want some?" He pointed at the girl laying beside him. His eyes flickering at the mess he's made only briefly almost shyly. "I bet I left a few drops in her for you to enjoy." Up until this second the young Harvest girl had done well to stay away from him. The blood rushing through her mortal body was an high-pitched aria, lulling him in. She had always had the ability to lull him in though.

She closed the gap between them, taking several steps forward at a smart pace as her boots squelched loudly against the soaked ground. He saw her stopping in her tracks, examining him warily, huddled against the lairs façade, his knees bend. Sinking to her knees, she didn't care to get covered in dirt or that having her so close could cause him to slip it. Davina Claire tells anyone to shove it, and her ex-boyfriend was making no excuse. He could practically hear the echo of her voice ringing in his head, whispering sweet nothing's to him. Oh how sweet. If he could, he would go and throw up. She made him sick.

He flinched unintentionally feeling her wet and dirty little hand coming to rest on his cheek. It was raining and Davina being nothing more than a fragile human being was going to get a cold or a lung inflammation, only because she was too stubborn to understand…"You should probably get up, love." He said, accentuating this nickname that once had come randomly to him, that was until he had decided to give it to her and only her. It satisfied him to no end recognizing the flash of hope coming to life in her eyes. Hope that maybe they could start over, that he wasn't damaged beyond repair. But they couldn't because he was. And though it hadn't been first thing on his mind when he decided to give is life a turnaround, he found peace in hurting her. Emotionally though; he'd never lay a hand on her. Flashing his best shit eat grin at her, he revealed small scratches of blood-like particles on his oh so perfect teeth. The flicker of hope gone, he felt his vampire ego hum in satisfaction. It was him who was in charge. A little barely grown up witch wouldn't trap him. Not with her lips, her charms, her sparkling green eyes or her smile. He had had enough of her empathy. She's forced him into this body; she's forced him to work his ass off in order to be the man she wanted; the man she deserved.

Listen, listen
I would take a whisper if that's all you had to give

"Kol…" Her voice was filled with annoyance. Annoyance of his stubbornness. She sounded more like an accusing mother than a girlfriend. Slowly he felt her hand withdrawing and all the evidence left of their bonding was the smudgy strain of dirt glued to his cheek. And he felt empty whether he wanted to admit it or not. He was the last one to deserve such hypocritical interventions. The policy of carrot and sticks – if it weren't for her and Rebekah he'd still be dead. And instead of celebrating quietly how they had managed to get their will once again, they were getting on his nerves.

Rebekah. Fierce Rebekah, the persisting owl always comes back even with the fox lying in wait. There's no limit to her nativity not to see him as a potential danger. Nativity in life is like quicksand in the wild: both resting on an unsound footing with no escape.

But it isn't, isn't

Thereby the fox has yet to realize the owl's dominating position; while the fox lurks around the tree arguing in a circle not knowing that the owl doesn't feel the slightest hurry to flee, she can either observe the fox' doing or fly away; it's her free will that makes her stay, watching her enemy being defeated by nothing but his own arrogance.

But Rebekah knew him. Kol was her brother and she had known the little kid as well as the murderous vampire and finally – thanks to Esther's maniac mission – she had learned not only about the man he could be, but the man he truly was. It was a lost game trying to conceal something as bloody obvious as his emotional low flying, yet Kol would neglect it or die trying to shield his weaknesses from anyone to see.

Kol needn't to see Davina's sloping shoulders or the sadness radiating from her eyes, to feel it piercing him to his very core.

To see how he broke his back once more, made her sick. And neither him nor her knew what to do. So close yet so far away was unbearable to both of them, Being madly in love does eventually lead to stupid moves one of them being to have endless faith and trust. Despite her narrowed lips, he could tell his girlfriend felt guilty; not long until she'd hate him. It's better when she hated him, for her. For him.

There might have been a change in him taking place but the girl he used to dance with under the stars had remained the same. "Can you just stop messing around?" She said gesturing vividly. "Just look at me Kol, why should I even care about any of this?" fixating him with the determined look in her eyes. "I don't even know why I'm here, Kol."

You could come and save me and try to chase the crazy right out of my head

For the first time in over a month, Kol was looking at Davina face to face. It was an odd and strangely unwelcomed feeling given they'd spent hardly a moment apart from another during the past six months. He couldn't help but note how outworn she looked with deep shadows under her eyes and a sadness radiating from her identic to his own. It made his unbeaten heart clench.

It's amusing how the way of looking at things change in mere seconds. Karma's a bitch and Kol its favourite stuffed animal to toy with. Why giving her to him in the first place if he'd been doomed to lose her? Did all of this make any sense? His troubled mind hadn't managed to form one in all these lonely nights he had to spend without her. He was done thinking, done searching but no matter what he tried, he wasn't done hoping for an answer to exist. Maybe an answer doesn't change the outcome but the sole knowledge of its existence could turn the world from black to grey.

I'm out on the edge and I'm screaming my name
Like a fool at the top of my lungs

The youngest Original's habit to make any serious stating of facts sound like a joke; gushed with too much sarcasm, was coming in useful to him in the form of his own personal weapon larger and sharper than his fangs piercing through every thin layer of emotional closeness. He's back to his old bad habits and it's a good thing he's got almost everyone to blame.

Why couldn't she just let him be sitting here with his Bourbon?

Maybe because him sitting in front of his and Davina's secret lair did little to testify his mental health. An involuntary laugh was escaping his mouth as his mind led a life of its own developing further what all this meant for him. He took another sip from the bottle, stating how Bourbon's not half as good as it used to be.

Sometimes when I close my eyes I pretend I'm alright
But it's never enough

During his first wild ride as a vampire, human emotions had been an abstract huddle he hadn't had any interest in wrapping his mind around. Being cruel and selfish came natural to him and after being turned by his mother, the essence of his being had intensified. He never granted mercy, he never pitied anyone but himself and he never drank to fight the demons of his atrocities. He couldn't believe it had come down to that.

Cause my echo, echo
Is the only voice coming back
My shadow, shadow
Is the only friend that I have

"Come on, let's get you home."

The rain had intensified, he could feel it with every fibre of his being and every centimetre of soaked clothing, but as he raised his eyes to Davina, he felt warm and safe. And though the mere thought of it perturbed him, he knew it was no sign of weakness to let her take him by the hand.

I don't wanna be down and
I just wanna feel alive and
Get to see your face again

Fin