"It's lunchtime, Elena," Elijah says disapprovingly. "How can you not have eaten yet?"
"I'm not going to get scolded for my eating habits," I say, wanting to glare but afraid of looking like a brat. "In the grand scheme of immortal vampires and magic, does skipping breakfast really hold any significance?"
"For you, it does," he says firmly. He shares a look that I can't read with Klaus. "Sit down," he tells me. "I'll make you something."
He really is ready to make me food. I sigh. "You don't have to do that. I'll pick something on my way home."
"Nonsense," he says. "Besides," he says as he makes for the fridge, nudging my chin playfully as he passes by me, "I enjoy cooking. I find it soothing."
"You cook and you wash dishes?" I tease. 'Soothing' is the same word he used for describing his enjoyment for washing dishes.
"Don't tease," Elijah says lightly, like he enjoys my teasing. "Now, what would you like?"
"Toast," I answer, since it's the least bothersome.
"No."
"No?" I question.
"Pick something else."
"Um-" I purse my lips. "Pancakes, then."
He shakes his head. "Also no."
"Elijah," I say, "Is there something in particular you want to make?"
"Something healthy," he answers. "No sugar for instance." He blows a breath and gets moving, like he's not going to wait around anymore. "Are you allergic to anything?"
"No allergies," I say obediently. Truthfully, I am kind of hungry, and I'm curious to see what he makes.
"Any dislikes?"
"Barely any."
"If you see me reach for something that you're not fond of, let me know."
I watch as he pulls out ingredients for some kind of pasta dish. He chooses penne pasta, tomatoes and mozzarella. I try to keep up with what he's preparing, but I get the gist of it. When he's done, he checks with me and I nod in encouragement.
Klaus leaves pretty soon, almost immediately. Watching Elijah cook apparently a waste of his time. Not a waste of mine, I'm telling you. Elijah so welcomingly gestures for me to take one of the stools on the opposite side of the counter, and I cautiously sit down. At times like this, I wish I wasn't on a phone boycott. Whether it's to not look pathetic while ogling a man I shouldn't dare look at too long, or to politely ask if I could take a selfie with him. I bet he's extremely photogenic.
A few minutes pass, with Elijah severely concentrating on measuring and mixing things. The novelty of the situation lessens, but I keep watching. It's like watching a Tasty or Bon Appetit cooking video.
I must have made a movement or something because Elijah's eyes startle up. His eyes wrinkle the slightest bit, as if he'd been caught. My heart stutters when a sheepish, criminally white smile lightens his face.
"I did not think this very much through," he says. "I shouldn't expect you to watch me cook." I'm very much enjoying it. "Perhaps you'd enjoy a walk or some fresh air. You're welcome to stay, but if you're curious, these doors lead to our deck and pool. There's a lovely sitting area."
I follow his gaze to the double French doors that are masterfully made. A long, wide stretch of green, interrupted only by the trees of the forest behind their property. The house is connected to a large deck. Because besides the doors there are matching windows, I could see a wooden dining set that looks straight out of Architectural Digest, or Gordon Ramsey's house.
I lean my palms on the marble countertop to investigate the outdoor space I'm suddenly desperate to explore. I hesitate. I look at Elijah and he's watching me. He nods.
My hands slide across the marble as I take them back for myself. I make my way outside, and I envy Klaus for not only his decoration skills, but for the prime location he chose to build his mansion on.
While the dining table is to the right of the deck, in view of the kitchen and its gigantic windows, to the right is the seating area Elijah mentioned. It's plush, with lounge chairs and sofas and a big coffee table in the middle.
The stairs from the deck lead down to a pathway that then leads to the beautifully landscaped backyard, if you could even call it that. The pool is there, lined with colorful Moroccan tiles lining the edges. When I venture closer, I can see that the bottom of the water is also painstakingly tiled.
Would it be rude to take a dive? The water looked so blue and enticing. I can almost feel its soothing lull. Tonight I'll probably fall asleep feeling like I'm floating or something.
I walk a couple times around the pool, clutching my bruised, needle-spotted right elbow. My poor arm never gets a chance to heal. And I refuse to let Klaus take blood from my left elbow. I had to have at least one fully functioning arm without constant pain and numbness.
I get the feeling that I'm being watched. Pausing in the pathway that connected the pool area to the deck, I crank my neck back to look at the white mansion. The windows are almost non-see-through on the second floor, but I swear I catch a glimpse of someone moving away from one.
Elijah hesitates before he sets down the plate in front of me on the counter. "Let's go on the deck," he says instead. "It's a beautiful day out. It will be a shame to let it go to waste."
I glance at Klaus, cautious of his reaction, but he rolls his eyes and leads the way to the French doors that lead outside, not waiting for us. Such a gentleman.
"Before we go," Elijah says, "Would you like something to drink?"
I bit my lips. "Water would be nice."
Since he's holding both our plates, he gestures for one of the cabinets. "Glasses are there. Forgive me."
"It's fine." I take out two glasses, then reluctantly reach for a third.
"Come." Elijah beckons. Like the chivalrous man he is, he opens the door for me and lets me pass first before stepping outside himself. There's a comfy-looking outdoor set of sofas and chairs on one side of the large, long deck. One the other side, our side, a wooden table that's enough to seat six is situated just in the shade. Elijah sets my plate down at the head of the table. A challenge or a jab towards Klaus, I don't know.
Klaus doesn't even sit down. He leans against the railway, half watching us and half looking out to the pool and the trees beyond.
I dig in my colorful dish with just the right amount of red sauce, mozzarella, and garnished parsley. My eyes widen when the first bite touches my tongue.
"Do you like it?" Elijah asks. He's sitting regally in the chair by my right, leaning back like a king with his glass of water in hand. He hasn't eaten yet, waiting to see my reaction.
"It is," I say, after I swallow my food since I'm not a heathen and I'm afraid Elijah and Klaus will judge me for speaking with my mouth full, "quite possibly- Definitely- one of the best things to ever touch my mouth."
Elijah's expression relaxes into a pleasant, content smile. "That was lovely. Thank you." He chances a look at Klaus, but he's given us his back as he watches the forest beyond. Elijah looks back at me. "Enjoy."
"Thank you," I say sincerely.
Silence ensues as I eat the best meal I've had in months. Elijah nurses his glass of water until he silently grows bored of it and gets up to get a whiskey decanter, which Klaus shares with him in unspoken brotherly camaraderie. I grow a little sad, because Jeremy and I were like that for a time, before everything went to hell. I realize at this moment that I'd never felt as alone as I feel today.
Klaus suddenly gets interested in us, or he really just got bored of watching still nature, because he takes the two steps and gracefully drops in the chair to my left. His eyes narrow, face relaxed like he was about to toy with me.
My next swallow of pasta is a little drier, somehow harder, and Klaus smirks.
"If you want, Niklaus-" Elijah's voice breaks the tension. Relief stutters in my throat, or maybe it's the chicken I swallowed wrong. "-there's more than enough lunch left in the kitchen. Join us instead of watching Elena eat."
Klaus rolls his eyes. He then looks down at Elena and Elijah's plates, maybe contemplating if the food looked delicious enough to want some to himself. After a few seconds of thinking, he does get up.
And that is how I ended up having lunch with two of the oldest and most powerful beings in the world.
"I'm unsure of how to proceed with this," Elijah says, his deep rich eyes narrowing a little as he looks away. "I hope you can answer me honestly, Elena."
Warning chills zig-zag down my spine. I swallow hard and look away too. Because I knew this was too surreal. Thousand year old vampires don't want anything to do with a lonely girl like me. I've bashing Klaus in my head for not being as nice and charming as Elijah when Klaus was probably acting genuine in his disinterest.
"Elena," Elijah says, almost cautiously. He waits until he has my full attention before he reaches inside his jacket pocket. Oh God, what is it? Another moonstone? Something that needs my neck snapped over it?
Honest to God, I hold my breath until Elijah acquires a stack of papers and envelopes and holds them up. It takes me a few moments to realize that the stack of envelopes is very familiar. My eyes widen in horrification.
"Are those-"
"Yes," he says evenly. He smooths his fingers over the top corner of one of the envelopes where my family name is situated. "When I asked you if everything was all right, if you were alone at home, you told me you were fine."
"Because I am fine." A fierce defensive feeling comes over me. Fuck surreal. I don't need to be judged by anyone, and not even by someone close to me to judge me so severely. "I need to go." I throw the cloth napkin on my lap on the seat next to me in preparation for an angry exit.
I don't know why, but my eyes catch Klaus', and the warning in them makes me falter. Klaus may show his dislike and disinterest, but he looks ready to stop me.
He gives me a condensing nod when I slump back into my seat. Elijah nods in approval.
"Now," Elijah says, "Your family situation."
He wants an explanation. I huff and stubbornly hold his gaze until I lose my nerve against his all-knowing eyes. "What family?" I say, to which he looks ready to answer, but I add, "There is no family."
Klaus makes a sound, as if to warn he was about to interfere. "I distinctly remember another Gilbert I've used to threaten you. Two Gilberts in fact."
If my eyes could shoot volcanic lava at him, or if I could throw up lava, that would be better. "Yes, you threatened one of them so much that she took her share of inheritance and went to a college in another country."
My offense is taken to another level when Klaus' lips twitch into a smirk. "Oh my God, Klaus. You're actually proud of that," I accuse.
"I didn't say anything," he says, almost grinning at his obvious lie.
"Inheritance," Elijah prompts, wanting me to ignore his brother. "Your parents left you something?"
I don't want to talk about it, so I turn my face away. Money is the last thing I want to discuss with anyone.
"Elena…" Elijah sounds patient. "I'm only concerned about you. These bills are drastically overdue."
"My family was friends with the important people in town," I try to defend myself weakly. "They won't, like, cut the power off or anything."
"Maybe not for the first month or so," Elijah says, but he's sympathetic. "Do you have a bank account? Or did your parents leave you a trust or college fund or anything similar to sustain until you're able to get a job in the future?"
My jaw clenches. "I'm not comfortable discussing finances."
"Well, you're clearly not comfortable handling finances in the first place," Klaus shoots. Elijah gives him a disapproving look.
"Elena, please."
Elijah leans back in his seat, his face carefully blank, as if trying to show me he won't judge. But he's not budging either, and neither he nor Klaus show any sign of wanting to get up or to kick me out of the first homemade meal I've had in months.
I huff a breath, hope my garlic breath blinds Klaus. "Fine," I drawl. I draw my hands to fidget with the hem of my top. My elbow is gruesome-looking, and it weirdly helps me detach from the situation. "There is a Gilberts set up that I'm supposed to have access to when I'm 21. Other than that, no one expected every adult in my family to die. We lived on Jenna's job and some of the insurance from the car accident. Until Jenna left, and with her, her income." It's a jab at Klaus, but really, there's no extra heat towards him. Jenna left of her own volition. "Jeremy's away, so there are extra expenses with transportation, rent, groceries. I am handling my finances. There's just not much of them."
Tense, awkward silence ensues. The pasta and garlic bread sit heavily on my chest. Or maybe it's the panic. Did I really disclose my financial situation in front of a man who's literally killed me? And to a man in a custom, designer suit that probably costs thousands?
It's Elijah who of course acts first. Klaus just looks away.
"I'm sorry," Elijah says, his smooth voice sincere. "That must be difficult. I misjudged the situation, when really, you were handling it. You never fail to exceed my expectations, Elena."
I'm still bitter of my pseudo-forced confession, but his words will bring a smile to my face later that night.
"Regardless," Elijah continues. "I got you this."
And then he hands me a credit card. An American Express Centurion card, the black card. He does it with casual poise and an arched eyebrow.
"I've already paid all your past bills. This is for any future ones, and your personal use," he says. "I understand that you might be reluctant to accept this, but I want you to think of this." His eyes search my expression. "Vampires have very little regard to mundane matters such as time and money. When you can compel yourself anything you want, live forever, but it grows tedious compelling people, and it's not always realistic in this modern age.
"My family has had accounts in every possibly every bank in every country. Call it boredom and thinking of the long run. Our accounts are in many names, and have been 'passed' down from every generation in the government's eyes. We have pursued several businesses and stocks over the years, and the card you're holding has access to an account that's been gathering interest for years now."
I look at my name engraved in shiny silver at the left bottom of the card. Elena Gilbert. I mouth my name as I read, sucking my bottom under my teeth.
"Or, if you want, you can think of it as payment for your blood donations," Elijah adds with a bit of mischief that reminds me of Klaus. I think his comment is aimed more at Klaus since Klaus glowers at us.
I take in a deep breath. "Elijah…" I think I want to cry. Fuck. In front of the Mikaelsons? "I-I can't-"
"For every atrocity the supernatural world has committed against you, your life," Elijah continues. "For all the monstrous acts you've had to endure and every evil word spoken to you, allow me to make the first step towards amending these wrongs."
I don't dare look at Klaus because so far, he's been the scariest, most evil monster I've encountered.
"I do not expect anything in return for this," Elijah says. "I have every belief you can handle yourself in this world, but I hope you'll accept this gesture."
My breath is hollow as I stare down at the credit card. The only thought going through my mind is what the hell have I gotten myself entangled in?
Hi! I've super busy these last few weeks. It's like the moment I gathered up the courage to publish Act that Brought You Joy and seriously pursue actually finishing a story, million of other things piled up and it was put away to the back burner.
I always thought Elijah looked like he can handle his finances. And I legitimately cannot come up with what the immortal vampires are doing all day. Surely it's not all plotting, reading, and piano. Maybe Klaus paints, but even that can grow tedious? I don't know. Anyway, he's showing his attachment to Elena by taking care of something he thought she needed help with.
Thank you to everyone who's read, followed, or favorited this story. It means so much to me. Hope you enjoyed and hopefully the next chapter I'll be able to edit and publish soon. Thanks again!
