"How did you die?"
The sudden question took Alma by surprise as she was sitting at the window. The breeze blew in from the quarter, bringing all the warm and putrid smells with it. The view was beautiful, but she tore her eyes away to look at the vampire reclining on his bed. He was staring at her, trying to read her just as she was trying to read the streets of the city.
The question was simple enough, the answer not so much. It was such a long, dreary story; it definitely wasn't something that she wanted to share with the man before her. But when an original wanted answers, they quickly found them.
Slowly getting up from her seat, she walked towards the bed, noticing the way Klaus' head tilted back to watch her approach. Pressing her hands down onto the mattress, she crawled towards him.
"Oh, you don't want to hear that old tale... but, if you insist!" When she finally reached him, she sat on her knees, looking down at him as she recounted dramatically.
"I fell in love with a boy," she started, eyes growing dark. It was how many tragedies started, the perfect beginning to a misfortunate story. "But he didn't want me so... I grabbed a dagger," She made movement with her hands, reenacting the scene. "And I plunged it through my heart!" Her hands that were holding the imaginary dagger crashed against her chest. She fell back on the bed with a swoon.
Klaus was unfazed. He even looked a little bored. Picking up the book that lay across his chest, he flipped the page before asking doubtfully, "Is that really what happened?"
Stretching out to lay on the bed, she placed her head comfortably on his shoulder. "Why do you want to know?" she asked playfully, curling up beside him.
Klaus looked down at her and set his book aside. "Come on, tell me." He insisted. When she wouldn't say, he mused on his own.
"You're so young, it couldn't have been natural causes," he deduced. "Was it... a car wreck? No? Drowning? Still a no. Murder?" There was something in her expression that changed, maybe a slight flinch. She was very good at hiding things but not always good enough. "You were murdered?"
She groaned and rolled away from him. "Klaus, knock it off. How about you recount all the times you were murdered; I'm sure you've had your fair share of temporary deaths."
"You'd be surprised, love," he proudly told her, turning on his side to face her. "Not much has been able to get so close to me over the course of my very long existence."
Klaus wanted to delve deeper into her past, but knew it would be better to save that conversation for later. He'd get it out of her eventually. For now, he'd settle on finding out more about her presently. "What's keeping you here, then? Aren't you supposed to, oh I don't know, go into the light?"
Finally, she rolled back over towards him. "I'm not sure how it works," she mumbled, eyes drifting down as she picked at the fabric beneath her. "I've always just been here. Maybe I can't go into the light."
"Do you want to?"
His voice was soft, sympathetic. It was nice hearing it when he was snarling or yelling in a heated rage. Alma had come to learn that Klaus wasn't always the hybrid or king. Sometimes, in moments like this, he was just the man. It was easy to forget what a powerful, ancient man he was.
She began to ponder the question he posed, a question she tried not to frequently think about. Maybe she should have been worried about the prospect of never leaving this eternal wandering behind, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Forever in her favorite city didn't sound too bad.
"No," she finally said, firm in her belief. Her eyes drifted back up to meet his. "It's too much fun here; especially since I have you to keep me company." She winked as she scooted back closer to him.
"Maybe you'd like a little more company," he murmured. He quickly continued when he saw the look on her face. "I meant Elijah. For some reason, you clearly are eager for me to retrieve him."
She waggled her eyebrows. "Aw, Klaus, are you jealous? You know I want you to get him back just because it's the right thing to do. You'll still have all my attention when he returns."
He shook his head. "No, I'm not jealous and no, that's not what I was talking about!" Eyes falling closed, he focused on his breathing as he tried to calm himself. Softly continuing, he said, "what I'm trying to say is, it would be a lot easier to get him back if I had a little help. Everything would get done a lot quicker if you would just-" When he opened his eyes to implore her to support him, he found that he was talking to an empty room.
"You always do that," he snapped. "Why do you always do that?"
"Why do you always ask me to spy on others for you?" When she reappeared, she was standing at the foot of his bed, arms crossed over her chest and a scowl replacing her pretty smile. Her emotions seemed to fluctuate as frequently as Klaus'. Just like he, she was unpredictable in her moods. It was one of the traits they both recognized as having in common.
Yet, it wasn't as endearing to Klaus as it was to her. His anger was much more hostile; her defiance was something he wasn't used to. There was no way to threaten her or to even blackmail her into doing his bidding. "How do I know you're not spying on me?" He asked heatedly, tossing his book aside. Sitting up and resting an arm on his knee, he leaned forward as he accused her. "That would explain it all, wouldn't it?"
Her scowl quickly disappeared; she looked quite horrified at Klaus' assumption. "What? No! I'm not spying on anyone! I am simply an observer. What don't you get about that?"
A muscle in his jaw flexed as he looked away from her, thinking of a different approach he could try. "Don't friends help their friends?"
"You consider me your friend?" A smile bloomed on her face. Klaus quickly regretted his choice of words.
"Forget I said anything!" With a snarl, he stood up from the bed, storming out of the room as he tried to escape the sound of her giggling.
As an apology for the latest quarrel, Klaus asked Alma to accompany him to the gala he was attending. Her still heart was soaring in her chest with happiness though it didn't last long. There was always a catch when it came to the ambitious hybrid. Very gently, so as to not drive her off too quickly, he explained how he would like her to use her talents while she could. Marcel would be at the gala, and it would be the perfect time to learn as much as she could about his plans. It was war, after all, and all was fair.
"I can't believe you're asking me to do this." She sat stiffly on the bed, watching as Klaus preened in the mirror. Even in her anger, she noticed how nice he looked in the jet black suit. So devilish, she thought in appreciation.
His head cocked as his eyes sought her in the reflection. "You can't?"
"You're right," she dryly replied. "This is a total you thing to do."
Smoothing his clothes down one last time, he quipped, "weren't you ever taught it's impolite to stare?"
She shook her head. "Sorry, I'm just wondering how you comb your hair so the horns don't show."
"Now, sweetheart, don't be cross."
"I can't help it. You bring out the worst in me."
She loved to dish but she just couldn't take. Just as it seemed Klaus was beginning to warm up to her, he would say do something that reminded her just how cruel or selfish he could be. She was a selfish girl, she could break through his very old defenses. Yet, that night, she only felt used. On their way to the gala, she timidly told him, "Sometimes I wish you'd say nice things to me. I mean, I don't always spend my time annoying you."
"Sometimes," he sighed with a roll of his eyes, "you wish for impossible things."
"Would it kill you to say... oh, I don't know... thank you for being such a wonderful friend and spying on my enemies? That you like my hair? That I'm the ghostiest ghost you've ever met?"
He smiled, he couldn't even try to hide it. "I'd kill myself by inches if I started saying that."
"Maybe I could just kill you instead and be done with it," she huffed, glaring at the buildings they passed instead of his stupid face.
He could tell she was desperate for a compliment, and momentarily considered giving her a pat on the head. "You'd probably do a good job of that," he granted, though it was a complete falsity. Klaus was sure she'd have the spirit for it, but by no means would she actually be able to follow suit. One of the perks of being an original vampire, he mused.
"That's not exactly what I meant by nice."
"Fair enough. How's this?" He shook himself, preparing for his role of admirer. He looked at her and, while trying not laugh, said "Your smile drives out the very darkness that resides in my cold, dead heart."
Shoving his laughing form away, she left him behind as she walked on alone. "I said nice, not creepy."