The second the door closes, I feel myself almost fall asleep standing up, my hands moving to my face, my fingers rubbing my weary no doubt bloodshot eyes.

It had been a very long, particularly unpleasant journey. And I was still a few hours away from Mystic Falls, the hour pretty late, creeping into the early hours of the following morning.

I know that if I carried on driving then I would be in serious danger of falling asleep at the wheel, something I'd almost done luckily getting stopped from doing so by my hand turning up the volume on the Nightwish album I'd been listening to.

So I had made the very wise decision to stop at a hotel needing a lovely hot bath as well as a good few hours sleep in a bed instead of the driver's seat of a car.

I'd made the probably extremely stupid choice not to let either of my cousins or my aunt know I'm coming wanting it to be a surprise. And I'm actually excited to see how much they've grown, Elena and Jeremy being just knee-high when I'd left.

The other choice I was gonna have to make was proving to be a little trickier. Vampires were one thing, angels were something completely different. I doubt many people even believe they really exist, that they're just a myth, a story told in Sunday school.

Me?. I've always believed in them even before finding out I was the daughter of one. Not that my father was ever in my life. It was always just me and my mom, her raising me solo.

I was ten years old when she'd sat me down and told me the truth about my parentage, about my angel half. She'd died without telling me my father's name.

I wanted to be angry with her for not telling me, but I couldn't find it in my heart to do so. I'd spent so many years after her passing trying to find my father. I'd even tried praying knowing it would be pointless.

Nephilim weren't exactly well liked up in heaven. They shouldn't even exist. As far as I know, I'm the only one in existence. I'd given up my search a year before moving to New Orleans.

I let out a yawn, my hands moving to slip my jacket off throwing it to the floor not bothering to pick it up, kicking my dark blue flats off, moving through to the quite generous sized bathroom, shutting the door after me.

The bathtub is thankfully of the very generous quality, a few small bottles of what looks like foam or gel, moving over to them, picking them up, finding two are gel, the third salts.

I decide on the salts, taking the lid off then turning on the taps, putting the plug in, letting the water begin to fill the tub then pouring a good amount of salts in, the smell of lavender and rose beginning to flood through the room making me sigh, smiling.

I start to undress, my eyes catching my reflection in the mirror above the sink, landing on the birthmark in the middle of my upper back.

I turn my eyes back to the tub stopping the water just about managing to stop it from going over the edge. I pull the plug out letting the water level go down a little testing it's not too hot finding it's perfect.

I climb in once it's right, sitting down, feeling myself instantly relax, lying back, closing my eyes, automatically starting to drift off.

I jump a little feeling two hands on my shoulders, massaging them making me moan, feeling more and more relaxed. Then I feel one hand get replaced by lips, them moving slowly up the curve of my neck, the other hand drifting lower, moving to my breast, cupping it in its palm, squeezing it gently.

"Mmm, don't stop," I whispered, arching my back, his thumb rubbing my nipple, feeling his other hand move under the water, his fingertips trailing along down my thigh.

I gasp loudly feeling his thumb make contact with my clit, rubbing it slowly and firmly, his finger slipping inside me making me cry out, turning to look back at him, my mouth getting claimed by his own.

My eyes snap open sitting up fast, breathing heavily, my hands pushing my long soaking wet locks out of my face, finding I must have fallen asleep, the water feeling lukewarm.

I move my hand from my hair back down into the water, my fingers finding my pussy, slipping one inside me, pumping it slowly, my thumb moving to work on my clit, moaning, my other hand moving to cup my breast, squeezing it firmly, working on the nipple with my thumb.

I feel myself fall over the edge within seconds, crying out, panting, my eyes closing, his face automatically appearing in my mind.

I'd been dreaming about him for so long, I feel as if he was real and not just a figment dreamt up by my lonely fantasies. It feels ridiculous, I know, being in love with a man who's imaginary and yet I feel somehow like he isn't imaginary at all.

He wasn't the only man I'd been dreaming about though. Most nights, I would dream about two men; one dark and one fair, one with brown, gentle eyes, the other with blue, intense eyes.

My dreams with them weren't always of the sexual kind. Some would involve us doing something as simple as walking, both wearing old fashioned clothes, definitely not from this century.

Not many words were ever spoken in those dreams. All I would hear were three names; Elizabeth, Elijah and Niklaus.