Chapter Two: Jealousy
She was up at 6 am again, having trouble sleeping for a week now. Thinking about things she had no business thinking about. During the first nights, she was hesitant to fall asleep for the anxiety of getting another late night surprise visit from Klaus. Seeing him in the light of day when she was ready for it was more than enough to unsettle her, seeing him in her bedroom in the middle of the night was altogether a different thing. She knew the role she played in their lives was totally minimal, but would it kill him to maybe remember that she was still a warm-blooded female?
The next nights she kept dreaming about her uncle, Kieran. He was trying to tell her something in her dream, pointing at something beside her. When she looked, she couldn't see anything. The same dream three nights in a row. She didn't really believe in ghosts, but then, she didn't used to believe in vampires or werewolves before either. She wasn't just about ready to discount that quite possibly Kieran's spirit was actually trying to communicate with her.
She shuddered at the thought of having ghosts visit her now at night.
After some needed caffeine boost, she went to her uncle's apartment. Ever since the first night she dreamt of him, she had been poring over his inventory of dark objects, focusing on weapons she could use to defend herself in the event that she needed to preserve her life, which seemed to be happening more often. Kieran had meticulously listed out the descriptions of each of the items. It still hurt her to think about her uncle, especially during his last moments, but in her heart, she somehow knew, that he was at peace.
The sight that greeted her as soon as she entered the barren apartment was a bit chaotic. A beat up thick wooden plyboard had taken up residence near the window. Papers were scattered all over the tables. Ice packs and pain relievers were strewn all over the floor. She knew she needed to clean up but so many things had taken over her time.
She needed to do so many things today. She needed to get some groceries. She needed to finish reading on at least two chapters from her book for school, she needed to go to work this afternoon at the bar. Most of all she needed to get more practice in.
By practice, she meant practicing on some of the weapons at her disposal. She could not forever rely on Klaus, Marcel, Elijah, Hayley and even Davina to keep saving her. They usually had impeccable timing, but that wouldn't always be the case. At the end of the day, she needed to learn things to better protect herself and look out for herself.
A couple of years ago, if somebody mentioned self-defense, she would have thought, "pepper spray? Stun gun? Automatic weapon? Call the cops?" However, these were supernaturals she was dealing with now. Normal self defense routes do not apply. She could just imagine their faces when she whipped out her pepper spray from her bag and threatened them with it. Maybe then she'd kill them with laughter.
Marcel had taken one of the ninja stars, but there were four of those left in her uncle's inventory. Each of the ninja stars, when buried into the enemy's body, would make a thousand cuts and result in death. She was careful to handle these with gloves, she didn't want to risk cutting herself in one of those blades. She wasn't planning to touch them until she knew she could handle the weapons with confidence.
She took the chance and ordered ninja stars on Amazon for practice, looked up Youtube videos on how to throw them, and she'd been practicing in secret, throwing them on that wooden board in varying distances.
After a couple of days, she managed to make them stick on pretty much the same spot from ten feet out. Her right arm hurt like hell from all the exertion, but she felt like at the event of someone coming after her, she could throw something with much force and better accuracy than a week ago.
She threw one of the practice stars now on the board. It stuck somewhere in the middle. She smiled.
God bless the internet.
"Nicely done," came the female voice behind her. She turned around and saw Hayley standing at her uncle's apartment's doorway.
"I went to your apartment earlier. I thought I'd find you here," the hybrid said, reaching in for a hug.
It felt good seeing Hayley after such a long time. She jumped from staying at the compound to be with Hope, to spending nights at the bayou to be with her pack, and Cami hadn't seen her since the wedding.
They chatted about Hayley's new life as leader of the pack, Cami's newfound passion for self-defense, Hope, Klaus, Rebekah, Marcel, Davina, Josh… There was a silence as Cami realized she'd asked about everybody but the one person Hayley probably wanted to know most about.
Cami eyed her carefully, saying, "He's going to be okay, you know."
"Who?"
"You know."
Hayley's sad smile spoke volumes.
…
Elijah badly needed a shower and a shave. He realized this was most unlike him, wallowing inside the room, plagued with horrors of the past, thoughts of the present, and an indifference of the future. He could not sleep but at the same time, neither did he want to get out of bed and do anything. He was stuck here in this hole in his mind. The hole was not disappearing, it was becoming bigger and bigger, threatening to engulf him and eat him alive.
As he stepped into the shower, he turned it on to the hottest setting he could, scrubbing his body raw as if to cleanse himself. As if doing so would make him be a whole new person again. He wanted to step out of skin. Wanted to live any life but his own. Wanted to be anyone but Elijah Mikaelson, with all the victims he'd claimed, all the people he'd hurt, all the loves he'd lost.
He was a thousand years old, but he could not see any point to continuing on. And ironically, he could not die. Not unless his brother took pity on him and stabbed him with the white oak stake. Or perhaps Niklaus could dagger him for just a bit of time, until things settled down for a bit. He doubted it would get better. Besides he had a duty to ensure everybody else's safety from Niklaus himself. But truth be told, he was just tired of it all.
He heard his phone ringing and he frowned, stepping out of the shower.
Camille O'Connell calling, said the screen.
With a sigh, he raised the phone to his ear.
"Yes?"
"I haven't heard from you in a week, are you okay?"
He briefly considered telling the truth but decided against it. "I am perfect, thank you for calling, Camille."
There was a long pause before she spoke. "If you ever decide to get some fresh air today, I'm on my way to check out the farmer's market. The weather is pretty nice this morning."
"Forgive me, but I have more pressing matters to attend to as of the moment."
Such as? a voice in his head called out.
He could sense from her deliberate pause that Camille thought his reply was utter nonsense as well, as if she just knew that all he did for the past week was sit around and stare at the wall.
"I guess you and Klaus have been doing a little brotherly bonding. That's good then. Maybe I should give him a call and ask him to help me out with…"
"I'll be there." He knew perfectly well that Niklaus was going to tell her he'd never left his room in the week, specifically when she'd told him to keep himself busy. Camille was nothing but persistent and he knew if she found out the depths he'd allow himself to sink into, well she'd do nothing short of camping outside his door telling him to fix things to keep himself busy. He inwardly shuddered at the thought.
…
Elijah found her milling about in the produce section, already carrying a bag filled with what looked to be baguettes. The throng of people suddenly made him long for the quiet of his own space in the compound. There were too many conversations, too many smells, too much noise going on. A heavyset middle aged woman carelessly bumped into him.
"Watch it," she snarled. The thought of baring his fangs and ripping out that jugular from her thick neck came unbidden into his mind.
Camille rushed to his side, correctly interpreting the predatory look he'd shot the woman, "You alright?"
He exhaled sharply. "This is why I would much rather stand in the sidelines than be in the middle of things. It's… less of a mess."
"Well, sorry to be the one to tell you this, but you need to live a little."
"Live a little?" he scoffed. "I am a thousand years old…"
"Obviously, Elijah, I didn't mean that literally. Come on, I've been dying to sample those dark chocolate truffles they have in there."
She brought him here to sample food?
"How riveting," he couldn't help but drawl out.
She shot him a look and handed him her brown paper bag already filled with food. "Just carry this and don't even think about running away. You're here to be the muscle and not the brains, so try not to overthink things."
He gave her his most condescending stare but followed her around to the chocolates. What else was there to do after all?
...
Surprisingly he found himself distracted by everything going on at the marketplace. An old lady yelled at him for loitering near her stand, blocking everything else. He'd scared a little boy who was rudely staring at him by briefly showing off his fangs. The poor sucker ran screaming for his mother which amused him quite so. And despite strolling with Camille, a beautiful brunette in a green dress gave him the up-and-down and smiled broadly at him, pressing a piece of paper with her number on his hand.
Aside from that, he'd also kept himself pre-occupied by taking out undesirable things from Camille's basket to go back into the shopkeeper's carts, all without her knowing. Personally, he thought he was doing her a favor.
Like this. Green peppers? Disgusting. He couldn't stand green peppers. He couldn't see why any sane person would want to eat them. He put them back on the crates when she wasn't looking.
Cheddar cheese? Utterly pedestrian. He traded the cheese for feta, which in his humble opinion was a much better choice than hers. She could thank him later.
Zucchinis? They simply looked too phallic for a young single woman to be buying, what a disgrace. He put them back in the shopkeeper's cart.
More chocolates? He started grabbing on to the new addition to the basket when she turned around so fast, she nearly took his eye out with her ponytail.
"Seriously Elijah? I can forgive the cheese and veggies, but not the chocolates. Drop those homemade peanutbutter cups and nobody has to get hurt."
He dropped them back in, not at all embarrassed to be caught messing with her groceries. She deserved it for practically forcing him to be here. He knew what she was attempting to do, but he wasn't feeling particularly charitable towards her at this point.
"Is this the part where you educate me on what the whole lesson of the day is, Camille? That life is too beautiful and too precious to just be spent wasting away? That this is what I am missing, all this time, mundane activities like grocery shopping and chocolate-tasting, when all I can think of is how these people look like with blood spilling out of their bodies?"
He could tell he shocked her by the way her eyes widened. She always did have expressive eyes, too expressive. One could always tell what she was thinking even without her saying so.
Despite that, she crossed her arms and faced him off.
"Do you remember what you told me last week, Elijah? Do you remember asking me for my help? And telling me that maybe my "human ways" could work out for you somehow? This isn't me trying to be your therapist, to get into your head, psychoanalyze you, work things out. This is me trying to be a friend and get you out of that house to do something "mundane," as you call it. This is me trying to reach out and let you know that there are people who want you to get better and move on. That you don't have to carry this burden alone. That's part of what you call "my human way".
He stared at her, not knowing what to say.
"You need to tell me now, am I wasting my time here?" she asked exasperatedly.
He stared off in the distance, suddenly feeling an attack of conscience. "No."
She gave him a long look and finally nodded graciously. They paid for her purchases, walking back to her apartment in silence.
The truth of the matter was, he didn't really want to discuss anything in the first place. Because giving voice to everything that happened meant that it was real and no longer would he be able to pretend it was just his imagination. That he, Elijah Mikaelson, an Original vampire, was so beyond damaged that needed a mere human girl's help to fix himself. That he was so weak and as a last resort would confide in Camille to avoid going completely ballistic.
He was already here wasn't he? And she was right, he had asked for her help. But, why did it feel so difficult?
After walking for some time, he finally spoke. Reluctantly at first, and then slowly gaining confidence with each word. "For a long time now…. for a long time now, my life has been lived in some state of darkness. I have loved here and there, but my focus was always to keep my family together. Keep us from killing each other, so to speak."
He exhaled sharply before continuing, "Then she… Hayley came into our lives with NIklaus' child. I grew to care for her, to keep her safe, to see to her comfort. Every time I saw her, I could feel myself… feeling, wanting. I held myself back because it was wrong. I considered her Niklaus', and although he had never shown any interest in pursuing her, it was wrong for me to covet her. I knew what she felt for me. I could see it in her eyes. But I could not, not even when she told me she was getting married, I could not tell her to not do it and just be with me."
"Why?"
"Because I was terrified of what I could do to her. That she would turn into another Tatia, another death in my hands. Because I knew she deserved someone far better than me. Someone less damaged, someone who was more like her. Because deep down, I know I do not deserve to be happy for everything I have done. I could not take her for myself. It would have been wrong to do so. Even if I knew I could have said something to stop that marriage, could have whisked her away at the last possible moment and disappeared…. I have no right to miss her, after all, it was ultimately my choice not to do anything, but I do."
She was quiet for some time before she asked him, "Why do you hate yourself so much, Elijah?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Because you talk like you have no right to happiness."
"I am much too old, much too wise for happiness in my life, Camille. I've had centuries to have the happiness I could. If it was meant for me, do you not think it would have happened by now? At this point in my life, all I can do is atone for the past."
They finally reached her apartment, and he deposited the bags on her kitchen counter. She put her purse down, causing some of the contents to spill out, one of which was an ancient-looking dagger with tiny stones on the hilt.
She opened her fridge, calling out, "You want anything? Soda? Alcohol?"
"Unless you have a bag of blood in there to tide me over, no thank you."
She rummaged inside her fridge for a few minutes and presented him with a bag of blood, "O negative good for you?"
He looked at her in surprise. "I was attempting a joke then, I did not think you would actually have blood in here."
"I can't offer my vervain-filled blood to guests, I guess the polite and logical thing to do was store a bag or two in there. I'm just careful not to let anybody look into my fridge." She saw him studying the bag of blood and said, "I usually replace them every three weeks, so that's still fine, but it's not the freshest."
"I will have to pass on that since I can feed later. I cannot stand the taste of week-old, let alone three-week-old blood with all the chemicals, but I appreciate the offer nonetheless." He motioned to the knife on the counter, "Do you know how to use that?"
"I've started bringing it with me ever since I've encountered Finn. I've even searched Kieran's inventory for other knives, but this is the smallest one I feel comfortable bringing. The others have a chock-full of dark magic if I even prick my finger on them, I'm not sure I'd be alive." She cleared her throat, as if embarrassed. "Honestly I've been wanting to learn self-defense. I can't keep relying on other people to keep saving me. I know I'm human and no match for a supernatural but…" she trailed off.
He could respect that. The most she could do was probably use a weapon, distract somebody long enough to get away. He suddenly felt guilty for having a human involved in their business.
"Do you know how to throw a knife?" he asked.
"No. I've been practicing with ninja stars though, are they the same?"
"It's all about the wrist movement." He stood up and showed her, demonstrating with her knife. He threw it with no spin, hitting its mark on the wall across them.
She exclaimed, "Oh god, my landlord will kill me. Here, I have a board to practice on." She came out of her room with a tall piece of wood wide enough for knife-throwing practice.
He gave her the knife and she threw it horribly, the handle of the knife hitting the board.
"It's your wrist, you have to relax it…"
"Like this?" she demonstrated, doing it the wrong way.
"Grip it like this," he said, showing her how to properly hold the knife in hands, guiding her hands with the right motions.
And this was how Niklaus conveniently found them in her apartment, standing together with Elijah holding on to her wrist and upper arm in a quite intimate fashion.
"Well, isn't this cozy," Niklaus commented, leaning lazily against the doorjamb, eyeing the two of them.
"Brother," he said, slowly letting go of Camille's arms.
Niklaus was in his usual attire, leather jacket, long-sleeved t-shirt, jeans, one of those horrendous necklaces Elijah despised. And right now, he was also wearing an aura of pretentious indifference. How entirely predictable.
Klaus looked up at the ceiling, as if bored. "There I was back at the compound, searching high and low for you, thinking, what could have happened to my brother? Missing, no message. Has he gone berserk somewhere? Has he gone amok and started killing people again? I've kept calling your phone with no answer, thinking the worst. And yet I find you here. With Camille."
He gave Elijah that smile. That infuriating smile that spread so slow across his face it would strike fear in enemies because they knew what was coming next.
"Here I am, brother," he said casually, knowing that this exact tone would irritate his brother further.
Elijah sensed Cami eyeing Niklaus, gauging what kind of mood he was in. She could sense something was wrong, but she hadn't yet caught on. Unlike her, Elijah already knew exactly what kind of mood his brother was in. He'd known him and his paranoia far too long to buy into that deceptively calm demeanor.
"Elijah's just teaching me some self defense moves after I bullied him into helping me with grocery shopping," she explained.
"Was that so?" Klaus' eyebrows raised, a sardonic little smile on his face. "This Elijah? Bullied?"
Elijah decided to be the better man. "I am heading out, Niklaus. Will you come with me?"
"I would like to speak to Camille in private," he said, finally stepping in the apartment. "That is, if you don't mind?" he mockingly asks, giving Elijah a sideways glance.
He shook his head inwardly at his brother's behavior. So obvious and childish. And they said he was the psychologically damaged one. He looked back at Cami, wanting to protect her from his brother's immaturity. He could see from her determined look she finally understood that NIklaus was feeling pretty vindictive at the moment.
Good girl.
He raised his eyebrow inquiringly and she nodded in acquiescence, as if to say she'll be fine. "I'll see you soon Elijah."
He left, confident she could hold her own and Niklaus would never purposely harm her. God knows he didn't want to be the one stuck explaining things to his stupid brother.
…
Klaus helped himself to the bottle of whiskey on her counter and poured himself a drink, jaw clenched, not even able to look at her.
She didn't really know what to say so she decided to go for the direct approach.
"What is wrong with you?" she demanded. He looked at her this time with some hostility in his eyes.
"Funny you should inquire about that. I was going to ask you the same," he said, downing the contents of the glass in one gulp without taking his eyes off her. "Did I come at a bad time? Was I intruding on a private moment between you and my brother?"
She felt confused as to where this was coming from. Did she do something wrong? "I don't underst…"
"Let me make this clear," he said, slamming the glass down and walking towards her menacingly until he'd backed her against a wall. He put one of his hands against the wall, right next to her, effectively closing off any escape if she wanted to.
Oh God.
Encountering Klaus at a safe distance, like twenty feet away, was very, very different from encountering Klaus inches away. Her senses were suddenly on overdrive.
She felt the heat of his body, smelled the scent of his aftershave, felt the brush of his leather jacket against her bare arm. From this distance she could see just how blue those eyes were, blue with tiny flecks of green in them. Those eyes were slowly becoming darker, eyeing her with an intensity that surprised her.
"You were letting him touch your hands like this…" He reached for her hand and stroked her fingers back and forth with his thumb.
They'd touched hands before, but why did this feel so different? This certainly didn't feel like a warm, friendly touch. It felt like he was purposely stroking her in such a torturous manner to elicit a reaction. She felt goosebumps begin to form all over her.
"I didn't let…" she started, but stopped when he suddenly bent forward, his face nearing hers, almost feeling his lips on top of hers.
Almost, but not quite.
She didn't know if he was purposely hovering his lips close to hers, but whatever he was doing was distracting her from making any kind of movement and making her forget all kinds of speech. She felt his hot breath as he exhaled, his mouth moving from the side of her mouth, moving slowly… slowly… until his lips were right next to her ear, saying, "You were letting him touch your arms like this..."
Fingertips that were previously stroking her hand stopped and traced their way to her upper arms, all the time she was conscious of how he felt her soft bare skin. Why did she choose all of these days to have a sleeveless shirt on? She couldn't think about answering that in her head because his hand stopped on her upper arm and began making lazy, sensual circles, making her already shallow breathing catch. His thumb was back to stroking her skin back and forth and she looked up at him in bewilderment.
What is going on?
Despite the slow languid touches, his eyes held a trace of anger as they met hers, "What else were you going to let him do? Were you going to let him do this?"
He lowered his head to her neck, nipping the sensitive skin and ever so slowly licking the part that he had caused to redden. He did this once, twice, three times, she lost count. The hot feel of his mouth on one of the most sensitive parts of her body made her unconsciously groan and tilt her neck to one side, giving him better access to it.
As soon as she willingly exposed her neck, she momentarily sensed him freeze, heard his breathing change, becoming faster and louder, less controlled. She heard those fangs come out, felt him momentarily lose himself as he put his hand on the back of her neck and tilt her head away to make more room for the feed. Before she could blink, those sharp fangs were grazing the skin of her neck, ready to pierce. His breath was hot and fast on her skin.
Oh god he really was going to bite her.
"Klaus…!"
Her panicked scream made him release her and take a step back. His eyes were glazed and unfocused as he licked his fangs before retracting them. They gradually changed from gold-flecked to blue once more, and he was breathing hard from the momentary excitement.
She stared at him warily, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to expect next. She couldn't tell at all what he was thinking.
Before she could determine her next course of action, he tentatively, carefully, brought one hand back to her neck and pulled her closer to him. His thumb swept back and forth on the reddened marks on her neck from where he'd nipped her earlier.
He gazed at her wordlessly, for how long she didn't know. She was distracted by the tender way she was being held, the way his eyes searched hers as if he knew every secret she had, the way the hand that was earlier touching her neck was now gently cupping her cheek.
"Were you going to let Elijah do this too?" he quietly asked, as he pulled her close into a kiss.
It was a cruel kiss. His lips were rough and punishing, as if they wanted to teach her a lesson, prove a point. The way he took and tasted her mouth like it was his to mark… he didn't want her to take pleasure in this.
No… not like this...
His grip on her neck eased as he tilted her head to kiss her more deeply, coaxing hers open. She resisted at first. But the hot licks, the slow sensuous strokes combined with the hard press of those lips were making her lose her mind. She finally let him in.
His mouth and tongue possessed hers completely. It was intense, like open flames setting her whole body on fire. The kiss swiftly turned from one of rough possession to something entirely different. She moaned against his mouth, forgetting where she was and who exactly was kissing her. All it mattered was that it felt good.
Until the moment he stopped.
Her eyes flew open. Her breathing was ragged while he wasn't even close to winded. She saw him eye her swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
Did she really lose all sanity just now? Was she just about to… dear god.
She felt her cheeks redden more with unbelievable embarrassment at how easy it had been for him to play her. How easy it was for him to stop in the middle while she was so physically and emotionally invested.
"I'm sorry," was all he said, his eyes a conflict of emotions.
Too many emotions, not one did she have time to dissect and distinguish because he walked out the door, leaving her alone in her apartment.
…