Chapter 3
It was cold out, the ground hard and frosted beneath his boots. A pool of dark yellow light illuminated the dark panes of his angular, woolfish face as he stood below the street light, hands casually shoved into his Jean pockets.
"Rose, what a delightful surprise," He murmured, the thick accent looping through every languid word. "You have, perhaps, thirty seconds to explain your purpose here before I rip your heart out. I'm feeling generous,"
"Klaus," the petite brunette murmured cautiously, "I have some information you may be interested in,"
"I'm listening," he glanced down at his nails, "and my boredom grows with every moment,"
"It's about the Petrova Doppelganger," She whispered, looking down and away from those large, canine eyes. "I-I know where she is. I'll tell you, in exchange for mine and Trevor's freedom - I'll tell you everything..."
"You will?" He asked amusedly, "Still hanging about with Trevor? Old habits do die hard I see. You do realise that without that poor, deluded fool and his love," He scoffed, "For dear Katerina, you would not be in this mess?"
"He is my best friend, my family," Something dark twitched in the back of his eyes, and for a second he looked broken and vulnerable, and then his face became steely and blank with quiet rage once more.
"So, Rosalina, what is it you would tell me?" He asked, mockingly, "That her name is Elena Gilbert, that she lives in Mystic Falls, that she has a younger brother named Jeremy, and a witch best friend named Bonnie Bennet. Do not presume to know more than me, Rose, because you will always walk away disappointed. That is," He growled dangerously, reaching out to touch the smooth, white column of her throat, "if you walk away at all,"
"What about..." She choked as his grip tightened, her feet lifting away from the asphalt, trembling fingers clawing at his hand. "What about Faye...?"
That vulnerable look passed his face again, his breath hitching in a short darkened gasp, his grasp on her throat growing slack.
"She's dead," He growled, as if tearing the words through broken glass in his throat, "She's been dead for years. Why would you say her name?" He growled, his grasp tightening, "Why would you say her name!?"
"She's alive!" Rose gasped, a hoarse whisper through clenched teeth.
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"You can't catch me!" She laughed, sprinting through the woods, holding her dark green skirts above her knees. The tall, lean boy was close on her heels, his dark blonde hair curled at his jaw, his deep, gravelly laugh echoing in the emptiness.
"Faye!" he called, reaching out the grasp her arm, his hand closing around thin air as she twisted away, her long, dark curls flying in the wind.
"you'll never catch me, Nik!"
He was on the brink of manhood, about 17, tall and lupine and muscular. She was nearly 16. Even as he chased her, he could not help but notice how much she had grown up since they had first met, that summer day so many years ago. God help him, he couldn't help but notice how womanly she'd become, how her body curved. And he knew the other village boys were beginning to notice, even his own brothers. He growled softly under his breath.
Distracted, he stumbled over a tree root and fell forward, knocking into Faye. They both ended up on the ground, tangled up in eachother.
"Niklaus!" She laughed, rolling over. He was half on top of her, groaning at the aches all over his body that would soon evolve into dark bruises.
"Are you alright?" He asked, reaching up to tenderly brush aside a stray lock of hair across her forehead.
"I am disgusted that you, the honourable warrior Niklaus Mikealson, would stoop to such levels simply to win a race," she teased, reaching up and placing her hand against his jaw, he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, a smile curving at the corners of his lips.
"I am beyond nothing, Faye, if it means I get to catch you," He laughed, threading his fingers through her dark curls, below the flowers Rebekah had braided in earlier, white and glowing in the brunette locks. She flushed, the thin, dark emerald material of her embroidered dress twisting up around her knees.
"You are so beautiful," He whispered, looming over her, his dirty blonde curls touching her porcelain skin, she moved her hand from his jaw and slid it into his hair.
"Niklaus..."
"I'm...I mean...God," He stuttered, moving abruptly away and into sitting position, holding his arms out for her. She sat up, pushing down her dress and smoothing her hair, before climbing into his lap, burying her face into his neck. His arms folded around her, lingering against her waist and the sides of her ribs, fighting to keep his hold friendly and platonic. Why is this so difficult?
"Faye...I...I have to tell you something," she looped her thumb inside his collar, grazing the back of his neck. He shivered. "I have to tell you...that...that I'm in...love with you," his voice was thick, his eyes downcast, memorizing how the curves of her body fit into his in the certainty that he would never feel them there again.
"You're mocking me, Niklaus?" She asked, awestruck, leaning forward to look directly at him.
"Why would you say that, Faye? Of course I'm not mocking you," He tightened his hold on her, "I've been in love with you for years, my Angel. Ever since I saw you, ten years ago, sitting beneath the white oak with my irritating little sister. And every year you grew more and more beautiful, and I fell further and further for you. Ask Elijah, one of the Wellis boys made a comment about you and I nearly broke his arm. I'm utterly lost,"
There was a silence, and he closed his eyes, waiting for her to tear herself away, to destroy the tiny grain of hope and love within him, the glimmer she'd managed to coax from the charred remains his father's abuse had left in his wake.
And then her mouth was on his, hot and sweet and soft, and he groaned, pulling her tighter against him. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, and his arms knotted around her, roaming cautiously into those hesitant places he'd barely grazed before. God, he must be dreaming. She wasn't gasping and whimpering softly into his mouth, sucking on his tongue as he moaned and crushed her to his chest.
"I love you too, Niklaus," She breathed, between kisses, ducking her head to nip at his chin and jaw and neck as he groaned, completely at her mercy. "I love you so much,"
He breathed her in, a soft, heady perfume, kissing her hard, as if he'd never get the chance again. He bent and left a trail of open mouthed kisses against her neck. His teeth grazed her throat and she gasped, barely noticing the thin trickle of blood that curved down her the creamy skin.
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Faye woke early, naked beneath expensive, black silk sheets, Damon's warm arm thrown carelessly over her waist. Slowly sliding out from beneath the muscled weight, pulling on her jeans and t-shirt and tying her hair into a messy bun at the base of her skull. She gave her scruffy reflection a brief middle finger salute before ducking out of the door and sliding down the banister into the boarding house entryway.
"Having fun?" Stefan asked, taking a long sip of his coffee as she skidded across the varnished floorboards in her socks, patterned with bright yellow ducks.
"Yep," She grinned, vampire speeding it on to his back and ruffling his already unruly hair, before hopping back down and digging out a handful of dry cheerios from the box on the counter. "You have a good night with Elena?"
He nearly choked on his coffee, and if vampires could blush, he would have been bright red. He shoved her with his shoulder, snatching away the box of cheerios. She hopped up on to the counter, reaching up to try and grab it back as they both laughed.
"Well isn't this terribly domestic,"
The cheerios box fell to the floor, little wheat O's skittering over the floorboards.
Stefan's voice caught in his throat, "Katherine?"
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