III. KATHERINE PIERCE

One week ago

"How long has she been like this?" A husky voice broke through the alcohol induced haze. She lifted her head up from the cool bar top, where she'd been resting it a moment ago, and turned to look over her shoulder. The source of the voice stood only a foot behind her, talking to one of the hostesses of the club; his brows furrowed in a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

"Damon, relax." The younger Salvatore voiced calmly, shooing the older woman away and removing his leather duster coat. "She's fine."

He closed the short distance and draped the coat over her exposed shoulders. She felt the warmth envelope her immediately as well as the familiar scent of TOM FORD.

"What happened Katherine?" Damon ignored his brother, swiftly taking a seat in the empty bar stool beside hers.

It took a moment to collect herself. What had happened? In the last three hours, she'd practically been cut off by the bartender. Five shots of tequila contributed to her hazy memory. The back of her throat raw from crying. Her waterproof mascara had done its job.

With a sigh, Stefan pulled out a silk black and white handkerchief, with the Salvatore S insignia, offering it to her silently. The girl accepted it, dabbing the corners of her eyes. The two rarely saw her in this state. Vulnerability wasn't really Katherine's style.

"Elijah is engaged." She informed them darkly.

Stefan and Damon exchanged a weary glance at her words. Elijah Mikaelson, the heir to the family business and a known recluse, basically had gentleman stamped across his forehead. They knew how smitten Katherine could become when it came to men like him-the older, silent and modest type.

"How is that even possible?" Stefan wondered aloud, recalling how the man had shown up at their graduation ceremony, bouquet in hand, to congratulate her only a week ago. The perpetual scowl on Damon's face had been hard to forget.

"It seems his parents don't think we are an appropriate match." Katherine bit out, voice faltering with each word. In all her life, she'd never once been seen as low class, that is until she stood before the judgmental eyes of Mr. And Mrs. Mikaelson. "They want nothing to do with the Pierce family. My family…"

"What the hell did they say?" Damon's voice shot up, irritation clear for all to hear. He ignored the curious stares from patrons close-by that might be eavesdropping.

"They didn't say anything." She continued, feeling Stefan's body heat as settled into the empty stool opposite his brother, placing a comforting hand over hers. If she recalled correctly, their son did a fine job of relaying their message on his own, with his corporate friends watching on in amusement disguised as aloofness. "Elijah did all the talking."

It didn't take a genius to see the disappointment beneath the sad and drunk exterior. Elijah had made himself an enemy of the Salvatores.

She leaned her head against Stefan's shoulder, an exasperated sigh leaving her cherry lips. Damon frowned, picking up the untouched shot on the bar top and downing it in irritation.

"How should we repay him for this?" The younger brother thought aloud.

Katherine caught the intention in his voice. She sat up suddenly in her seat, grabbing Stefan's hand before reaching out for Damon's. "You don't think my family is low class, do you?"

"Of course not."

"No!"

The two answered simply. The Pierce family was just as respected in the community as any of the Founding Families, even more so than some. They weren't as well off as the Mikaelson's but they had already established themselves in big medical circles.

She stared between the two with an almost grateful smile. Another uncommon sight for them.

"The Mikaelsons are snobs." Damon remarked, "They're beneath you Katherine."

"I wouldn't worry too much," Stefan added, as she relaxed her head against his shoulder again. "Anyone that ends up with a Mikaelson is doomed."

"I knew it was a bad idea from the start." Katherine rolled her eyes at his brother's words. In one way the words comforted her, in another they irritated her to no end. Never let the Salvatore prove themselves right, she thought closing her eyes as the music of the club hummed loudly around them.

.

.

.

.

Thank you for reading!