A/N: I don't even know what's going on with me, I'm a fluffy writer with the occasional drama. Now I've been bitten by the angst bug. Don't worry, I plan on writing some fluff, but it will probably be for another 'verse. The drabbles will keep coming! Talk to me on tumblr at lilac17! I love discussing fandom and a bunch of other things! I would love to hear what you think of this 'verse. As of right now, there's not a clear plan, so if you have any prompts, i would love to hear them! Happy 2017, guys!


Klaus finds it sitting on Rebekah's bed; the cream colored envelope standing out against the navy blue sheets. For some reason, the item seems to call to him, and he takes it, almost as if he's being compelled. His chest constricts when he opens it and sees the elegant cursive words and it almost makes it wonder if someone put a spell on him, if he's a human again.

Bonnie Sheila Bennett is marrying a Edward Cooper Taylor and there's nothing he can do about it.

Because he's addicted to pain just as he's addicted to power, Klaus doesn't slide the invitation back into the envelope and leaves. No, he keeps reading, focusing on every single word.

She's marrying in a month. On a Saturday, at a church back in Virginia. The reception will be held at a country club. He traces the golden letters on the paper, hoping there will be a hidden message somewhere. Perhaps he will find a note from her, pleading him to find her and put a stop to this madness. There is nothing of that sort.

Before Rebekah returns and catches him in this awkward position, Klaus slides the invitation back into its envelopes and heads straight back to his study.

That afternoon is spent with numerous bottles of Bourbon, scotch and even vodka comes in the mix when he runs out of his preferred liquor. He enters an alcoholic haze after draining the fifth bottle; his movements slow and sloppy as he plops down on the leather couch.

"Nikki?" Bonnie's musical voice calls him, and he feels the soft skin of her hands touch his damp face.

Klaus' eyes fly open at that and his heart drops when there's nobody beside him. Hallucinations. That's what the great king of New Orleans has come to.

And the ludicrous thing? Klaus wants to keep hallucinating if that means he will get to see Bonnie. So he welcomes them as he closes his eyes and rests his head.

"I want a wedding like this," Bonnie says with a small smile as she adjusts the Ray Ban aviators over her eyes to shield them from the sunlight.

"Like what?" Klaus asks; his eyes still closed. With his head on the comfortable pillow made by her thighs, Klaus has no desire to move an inch.

"The white sand, the crystalline water and the warm breeze," Bonnie explained, gesturing the absolute beauty right in front of her.

It was a sunny day in Seychelles; nothing but blue skies and fluffy white clouds. The palm trees swayed with the gentle breeze.

"And you won't look so pasty in the pictures."

"So you're confident that the potential groom will say yes? Because my sources tell me he might get cold feet and may need some motivation."

Bonnie releases a belly laugh, and bends down to press a kiss on his lips. It's an awkward angle and kisses his nose instead, but neither of them care. Klaus is well on his way of getting drunk on the coconut scent of her braided hair.

At this point, he's almost sure he would marry her right there and then if she asked him with that pout of hers. It would be just a formality, of course. His initials, scrawled in his elegant handwriting are branded on the inside of her wrist, just like her initials, loopy and careful, are on his skin. They are soulmates, paired together by a higher mystical force out there. They don't need a wedding or a piece of paper to say they're official.

"Me in a bikini, that's not enough motivation?" Bonnie wondered; her lips contorting into a pout; the same pout that could make him forget who he was and only focus on her, nothing but her.

"If it's a delightful piece like this one," Klaus gestures to the tiny pink bikini she's wearing, ignoring the possessive flare that runs through him when he thinks that other people can see her.

"Nice to know that, Nikki."

He ignores that ridiculous nickname and pushes himself in a sitting position to kiss her.

Hours later, when he wakes up, he fully expects to hear the sound of the waves crashing onto the rocks and chirping birds. His hands reach out to pull Bonnie's body closer to his, but there's only empty space.

She's not there. She's with a Edward Cooper Taylor, planning on becoming his wife.

At least it's not going to be on the white sands of Seychelles. A small consolation prize.