I'm A Farewell That Came All Too Soon
3
New Orleans
1stMay
The wolves were restless; stirred up into a frenzy by the murder of their alpha and loyal friend. Hayley had been so much to so many, and Freya genuinely feared how New Orleans' supernatural society was beginning to crumble rapidly without her. It could only bring bloodshed and more death if she couldn't find a way to repair the fracture lines running through their various communities. Vincent was out with the witches, doing whatever he could to soothe fears and tempers alike, whilst Marcel was holding court over the vampires and attempting to keep tabs on the known betrayers. Thus it had fallen somehow to Freya to work things out with the wolves. It was a formidable task at best and a hopeless one at worst - trying to reign in those who were ruled by the moon.
She was currently attempting to assuage Lisina and the tall, muscular wolf named Beau who had accompanied her to the Mikaelson compound. They were all but baying for blood; specifically that of the vampire variety, since the wolves felt that it was they who were to blame for Hayley's death. Freya couldn't really argue with their logic since every accusation they levelled at the vampires had proven to be true. However, there was no way she could allow the wolves to go steaming through the quarter, doling out their own vigilante brand of justice in a blind attempt to seek retribution for their queen. And so, Freya poured endless cups of chamomile tea, offered around plates of beignets, and prayed to the goddess that something she said would somehow manage to calm them. If all else failed, she supposed she could start slipping wolfsbane into the tea, although that would most certainly cause more harm than good in the long run.
"When is Klaus going to take action?" demanded Lisina, pushing her teacup aside without care. She had already downed three cups of Freya's vile concoction and it had done little but leave a foul taste lingering in the back of her mouth. She knew better than to refuse Mikaelson hospitality though.
Freya shot the woman a pointed look, narrowing her eyes as she briefly contemplated the thoughtlessness of the wolf's demands. Their family was grieving, and the crescent wolves needed to understand that the business of ruling over the city and its various supernatural elements came second to ensuring that Hope was okay.
"Klaus' main concern right now is his daughter," Freya bit back, rapidly losing her patience and what remained of her temper. "You think your people miss Hayley? Imagine how Hope feels."
When she glanced up from her cup she noted with mild satisfaction that Beau at least appeared to have taken her words to heart.
"Maybe we should go, Lis," he suggested, suddenly appearing uncomfortable and perhaps a little guilty at having stormed into the Mikaelson compound when the family had been plunged into such unimaginable grief only days before. His hand hovered above Lisina's shoulder but she shrugged him away before he could lay a finger on her.
"I know loss, Freya," Lisina hissed, her hand trembling violently around the saucer, "or did you forget about Henry already? Hope's best friend… the kid who died because of her blood… because…"
"Enough!" Freya all but snarled, her fingers clenching so that her hands formed fists on the table top. Whilst she could respect that Lisina was indeed still mourning the death of her young charge, Henry, he had not been bound to her by blood the same way that Hayley had been to the Mikaelson clan. Lisina had come relatively late into the boy's life, stepping up admittedly selflessly as his guardian when his parents had been killed in a car accident that had also taken the life of Henry's little sister. The whole event had been a terrible tragedy, but it had occurred when Henry was approaching his twelfth birthday, meaning that Lisina had acted as the boy's guardian for no more than four years before he had been so cruelly snatched from her. It was nothing in Freya's eyes to the fifteen years she had spent by Hayley's side, or the visible pain on Hope's face every time she simply glanced at her aunt.
"Henry deserves more than this," whispered Lisina, a tear splashing from the corner of her eye and landing on the back of her hand, "Hayley deserves more than this. We cannot let this… this filth go unpunished for what they have done. Snatching innocent lives away for… for blind hatred!"
Freya swallowed hard, Greta's grinning face dominating her mind for just a second before she managed to push it away. At least she was dead and gone, Freya reminded herself. Hayley's final act of defiance had been to take the leader of the Nazi vampire faction out; to burn her body to ash and dust in the sunlight, alongside her own. A sigh escaped Freya as she found herself recounting Klaus' garbled explanation of what exactly had transpired that day at the cottage. Then, she was entertaining thoughts of Elijah again, which had her pursing her lips against a wave of irritation that threatened to overwhelm her. If she did not work hard enough to tamp down her own fury and disgust at the way things had been allowed to play out – at the way Elijah himself had allowed the situation to conclude – then Freya would doubtlessly find herself running through the French quarter beheading vampires right alongside the crescents. And that would never do. She was better than that. Hayley would want them all to be better than that.
As if growing weary of the fruitless discussion, Lisina climbed to her feet and pressed her palms to the table in a stance Freya couldn't help but interpret as threatening. But the wolf caught herself quickly, not in a hurry to rile the infamous Mikaelson witch, or to potentially face the wrath of her arguably more infamous hybrid brother.
Licking her lips in an almost nervous fashion, Lisina took a steadying breath as she issued her ultimatum.
"Tell Marcel and Vincent that they've got 48 hours to make up their minds. After that? We take matters into our own hands."
x-x-x
"Wait here, she's been expecting you!" the day walker instructed curtly, casting a lingering and not wholly innocent gaze over the witch he had escorted into the compound with her two male counterparts. His flirtatious grin was instantly met by a sigh of tedium from the object of his apparent desire, and yet he seemed to find her dismissal of him somehow intriguing. He could feel the power that bled from her, but there was something else within her that had captured him - a darkness that he felt drawn to.
"We're waiting," Ethan raised his eyebrows expectantly at the vampire, placing his hand in the small of Vanessa's back. The set of his jaw dared the vampire to make an advance.
"Might as well take a load off," Reggie stated, moving a chair back from the table and sitting down diplomatically, hoping to end the stand-off between the two natural enemies.
"Impressive place you've got here," he enthused, scanning the compound and knotting his hands over his stomach. He peered up at the expansive balconies and numerous windows that dotted the interior walls, barely managing to resist the urge to let out a long, low whistle of appreciation.
The vampire scowled in response, nodding towards the table and directing his barked instructions it appeared solely at Ethan. "Don't go anywhere."
"Wouldn't dream of it!" Ethan crooned, folding his arms across his chest. He appeared set on standing.
Rolling his eyes, the vampire took off down a corridor, Ethan's glare following every step he took. Vanessa gently but firmly jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, shaking her head rather pointedly at his attitude when he finally elected to look down at her.
"Ethan," she said, her voice carrying a note of warning that he found himself unable to ignore, "we are not here to make new enemies, my love."
Despite his thoughts on the matter, and his feelings in general towards those of a blood sucking persuasion, Ethan bobbed his head. Vanessa was right, as usual, and he would do well to remember as much when he felt his fury and natural tendency for sarcasm vying for control of his better nature.
"I'll behave," was Ethan's eventual reply, punctuated by the kiss he dropped to the crown of Vanessa's head. Despite the modern clothing that she wore, at Reggie's emphatic insistence, Vanessa had still taken the time that morning to weave her hair into the most intricate braid befitting of their own time that Ethan thought he had ever seen. He supposed it was her one little rebellion, and Reggie had certainly seemed to let it slide, although his eyes had ticked over her appearance somewhat judgmentally before they had left the motel.
The instinct to protect Vanessa was almost overwhelming in their current situation and, although Ethan couldn't be certain that they were in any imminent danger, he felt the territorial nature of the wolf begin to stir within him; and the wolf, it seemed, was just as set on protecting its mate as Ethan.
As if almost anticipating his actions, Vanessa didn't so much as flinch when Ethan's arm wove around her waist. She recognised that their history with vampires was more than enough to have all of their nerves on edge.
Narrowing his eyes as he pondered the small amount of information he recalled Freya ever having imparted to them, Ethan directed his curiosity to Reggie. "So how is it that our witch friend has a whole gaggle of vampire siblings?"
Reggie shrugged, appearing far too relaxed and at ease in the courtyard for Ethan's liking. Sighing out a slow, deep breath, the man cast his eyes up towards the heavens, calling on the little knowledge he retained of the famous – and feared – Mikaelson clan.
"Well, from what my grandpa told me, there were… I dunno… six or seven kids… their mom, who as it turns out was just about the most powerful witch who ever lived, cursed them all with immortality. And…" he waved his arms in a grand gesture that screamed 'ta-da', "hey presto, you got yourself the world's very first vampires."
With a frown, he added, "Oh, except for the one brother. Turns out the mom had been stepping out with some werewolf."
"Which would have made him a hybrid…" Vanessa guessed, piecing together the rest of the story, as far as Freya was concerned anyway. "Freya was taken by her aunt as a child, brought up away from her family. She would not have been there to see her siblings turned."
Shaking her head, she added in an almost pained whisper, "But why would a mother inflict such darkness upon her children?!"
Reggie shrugged, anxious to get to the end of the story and less concerned with Esther's maternal failings, which seemed to trouble Vanessa so much.
"Anyway, so yeah… the first hybrid. The most powerful creature in existence, and a crazy fucker too if all of the stories are true."
Ethan huffed out a groan that brought a hint of a smile to Vanessa's lips. Whilst she was certain that no sibling of Freya's would wish to cause them any harm, she understood Ethan's feelings on the matter. It had, after all, been Dracula's relentless pursuit of her that had almost cost Vanessa her life. To be there now, strangers in a different time, far removed from all they had known and loved, was disconcerting enough in itself without throwing yet more vampires into the mix.
"Wonderful. And we're standing in his parlour," Ethan muttered, his lips drawn into a tight line as he processed the rather unpalatable information.
Vanessa's fingers curled around Ethan's elbow in a comforting move that had Reggie chuckling into the sleeve of his shirt. The couple ignored him, as they had been doing for the better part of a week already. Reggie's intentions and heart were both pure enough, but his attempts at humour could most definitely use a little work in Ethan's opinion.
"We are safe," Vanessa assured him, her lips twitching as she thwarted a grim smile, "the moment we are not, I will know."
Ethan said nothing, and instead reached across the small expanse of space separating them in order to cup her cheek with his palm. She leaned into the welcome touch, eyes closing for a beat whilst she allowed the familiar scent of him to wash over her.
"I'm going to hold you to that," he promised, although it was clear from the mirth that danced behind his eyes that he was joking, beginning to relax enough to at least make an attempt at sarcasm.
Turning her cheek towards his touch, Vanessa rested her hand over his and offered him a gentle smile that had been so rare in their previous life together.
Though they had talked about the friends and family they had left behind, and about the forces of evil that had sought to make Vanessa Ives their bride, they had not spoken of the moment she had contemplated taking her own life. She felt foolish for having even considered it, but her soul had been weary and she had thought herself alone in her fight against a foe who was relentless in his pursuit of her. Ethan of course blamed himself for leaving, for causing her heartbreak. She knew she would never forget the expression of horror on his face when he had found her holding his pistol in her bedroom. It had been that moment of indecision when she had found his eyes upon her that had stopped her in her tracks.
The only mention Ethan had made of the episode had been after they had awoken from their magic induced slumber. The first night they had spent together, he had whispered into the darkness as he held her, 'To lose you would have destroyed me.'
Leaning back in his seat as he eyed them with interest – and a hint of mischief – Reggie enquired through a provocative smirk, "So, Ethan… you gonna take Beyonce's advice and put a ring on it?"
Reggie quickly remembered his audience, however, when he was met with two blank stares that instantly made him feel foolish for the pop culture reference.
"I keep forgetting you two are… old."
"You should never comment on a lady's age, Reggie," Vanessa chided, her lips pursed to contain a chuckle, "I would assume that is still the case?"
Reggie seemed poised to reply when a creak from the balcony above the courtyard drew the group's collective attention. Ethan whirled around, reflexively shoving Vanessa behind him, his eyes fixed on the perceived threat. Reggie was on his feet at a somewhat less hurried pace but still the look on his face indicated that he was ready for action, should the need arise.
Vanessa craned her neck around her lover's body, her eyes seeking the cause of the disturbance. She managed only to see a flash of auburn hair and hear a snarl rumble from Ethan's chest before he was shoving her down to the courtyard stone, shielding her body with his. They landed nose to nose, and the air left Vanessa's lungs in a whoosh, leaving her breathless and aching on the ground as Ethan sprang back to his feet.
"What the fuck?!" he yelled out, voice sounding guttural and enraged. He moved as though to dash for the stairs that would carry him up to the first floor but he halted in his tracks when Reggie's body was sent careering past him into the stone pillar that stood parallel to the stair bannister.
Kneeling on the cold ground, Vanessa pressed her palms to the stone, tendrils of hair whipping her cheeks due to the suddenly violent breeze that assaulted them.
Ethan watched her wide eyed, listening to the incantation that almost absently tumbled from her lips. He started as the ground under their feet began to tremble, like he was standing on a rug that an unseen hand was trying desperately to pull out from beneath him.
From his position on the floor, Reggie seemed transfixed by Vanessa and yet simultaneously terrified. His alarm only exponentially increased when a previously unseen figure walked almost languidly down the stairs. Raising her hand towards the group of strangers, Hope fixed a snarl on her face as she flicked her wrist, expecting the newcomers to be tossed against the far wall of the compound. But they remained untouched, apparently protected by the incantation the raven haired witch recited.
"We mean you no harm…" Vanessa shouted above the swirling winds, climbing to her feet and turning to regard the younger witch, who appeared to be little more than a child.
Repeating her earlier actions to no avail, the youngest Mikaelson's brows knitted into a deep frown as she looked down at first her own hands, and then glared in fury at the intruder. She had felt the woman's power; the darkness that Vanessa kept at bay yet that was still inherently part of her nature and always would be.
"How are you doing that?" Hope yelled, teenage petulance quickly becoming indignance.
She drew to a halt at the foot of the staircase, her own hair rising above her shoulders behind her, buffeted on the supernatural wind that the meeting of two powerful witches had evoked.
"My name is Vanessa Ives," explained the older woman, her voice ringing with authority, which she hoped would have the desired effect on the girl. Instead, the teen flung her right hand out again, whispered words of French spilling from her lips. The magic erupted from her palm and fingertips in a flash of yellow light, which careered towards Vanessa and her party faster than the naked eye was perhaps even capable of seeing.
With a single word to counter the spell, Vanessa deflected the intended blow, wincing when it doubled back and reverberated on its caster. The raw energy, no doubt fuelled by both terror and rage, hit Hope square in the chest and sent her tumbling backwards. She landed against the stone steps in an ungainly heap of limbs, letting out a pained yelp as her head struck the edge of one of the stairs. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment but she did not lose consciousness, and Vanessa heaved a sigh of relief. Despite the girl's advances, she could sense that they were truly in no real danger; that her reactions were mostly instinctual, spurred on by the feelings of grief that radiated from her, and perhaps even the slightest hint of fear of those who had hurt her before.
"I am sorry, little one," Vanessa said, lowering her hands to her sides and rising to her feet with all her usual elegance still miraculously intact. Ethan crossed the courtyard in a few strides and extended a hand to Reggie, who accepted the help with a look of gratitude. When he managed to drag himself into a standing position, his legs still trembled like jelly.
Careful to maintain a cautious distance, Vanessa walked closer to the girl, noting the suspicious and almost anxious expression on her face with inherent sadness. For everything Vanessa was and all that evil had tried in vain to make her, she possessed a kind heart, and hurting a child was the very last thing she would ever feel inclined to do.
"We're not here to harm you, I promise," Vanessa reiterated, carefully extending her hand as her eyes locked on the girl's. She seemed to have given up on their confrontation and lay still in something of a mangled heap on the ground. Casting her gaze over the little witch, Vanessa felt a spark of recognition, and it was only when she had managed to coax the girl's hand into her own that she finally made the connection; the woman in her dreams.
"I am an old friend of Freya's, from very long ago. She helped me once and… I thought we were here to repay that debt. But now I know…" smiling almost sadly as she felt the child's very visceral grief, Vanessa stated with unnerving confidence, "we're here to help your mother."
"M-mom?" Hope demanded, her fingers closing immediately around Vanessa's. She pressed in a breathless rush that made her seem not a moment older than her fifteen years, "What do you know about my mom? Can you fix this? Can you fix what I did?"
Vanessa's mouth opened in a small 'o' of surprise, and she cocked her head as she observed the girl closer. She bore a startling similarity to the wolf from the visions; the same delicate, straight nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. Her eyes were of the truest blue that Vanessa had perhaps ever seen, which she assumed was a trait inherited from her father, but she was otherwise very much her mother's daughter.
"May I?" inquired Vanessa politely, raising her free hand and gesturing to Hope's temple. The girl sucked in a breath, fast and loud, but nodded her head to suggest that for the moment Vanessa had won her trust.
The second that her fingertips connected with the cool skin of Hope's face, Vanessa's eyes slammed shut. Her mind was filled with such images of torment that she let out a cry, which would have sent Ethan running to her aid if it were not for the restraining hand Reggie had clamped onto his shoulder. Fire, blood, ash, pain, darkness, chaos, hatred, rained down upon Vanessa until she could take it no more, and she was forced to pry her hand away from Hope - to close off her mind to the girl's suffering.
Swallowing hard to stem the bitter taste she felt rising up from the back of her throat, along with the smell of ashes that seemed to pervade her nostrils, Vanessa blinked against the tears caught on her lashes.
"I am truly sorry for your loss," she said kindly, and Hope could do no more than nod and try to subdue the quiver in her lip. Her heart ached for the child and she was overcome with a sense of urgency that had perhaps been building since the first night she had dreamt of the crescent wolf. Filled with renewed purpose, Vanessa was determined that they would do all within their collective power to help Hope, for she was certain that the grief she had detected in Freya was born from the same bereavement.
"I think perhaps it's time I spoke to your…" Vanessa levelled a thoughtful expression at the child before she guessed, "aunt?"
Now flanked by Ethan and Reggie, Vanessa tilted her head towards the werewolf beside her, who seemed to have the girl affixed in a curiously analytical stare; the wolf had recognised one of his own and Hope too seemed to return the quizzical expression with something akin to acknowledgement.
Her brow creased as she peered up at him, Hope stated rather than enquired, "You're one of the old ones… the first of my mom's kind."
She appeared confused by the energy she was receiving, but it was there nonetheless.
"But how? Wolves aren't immortal and you'd have to be like…" she shook her head and decided not to attempt the math, which had never been her strong suit, "really, really old."
"Hope!"
A frenzied cry shattered the long look that was being passed between Hope and Ethan, and seconds later the sound of heels assaulting the courtyard stones heralded the arrival of someone Vanessa had waited so long to see again.
"Freya…" she breathed, turning on her heel quickly, one hand floating midway in the air as though she didn't quite know what to do with it in her confusion.
The blonde witch stopped in her tracks, seeming hardly surprised by Ethan and Vanessa's appearance, and yet rendered undoubtedly emotional by it. She mouthed the name of her old friend, her fingers gripping the hem of her own blouse too tight, and then the two women were running across the yard to greet each other. Hope could not tell exactly who had fallen into whose arms first, but her aunt and the brunette witch became nothing but an unintelligible tangle of limbs within seconds.
Hope's eyes ticked again to Ethan, who watched the scene with the most gentle smile playing across his lips that nobody would possibly suspect the nature of the beast contained within his body. He reminded her somewhat of her father in that respect, and Hope pushed away the thought as an unwelcome jolt of pain seized her heart. She was trying her best to be mature about it all since it was her own childish clamouring for her father's attention that had initially started the whole mess the Mikaelsons found themselves in the midst of. She understood why Klaus, Rebecca and Kol had to stay away – she was unspeakably grateful that Elijah must too – but that didn't mean that she was immune to the hurt it caused when she considered that she had lost the rest of her family alongside her mom.
"Vanessa… I'd nearly given up hope…" Freya was crying into the woman's hair, undoing the complicated braid that must have taken her an age to fashion in the process. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."
"We are here… we are well. All thanks to you," Vanessa replied, drawing back to look at her friend and instantly breaking out into a sentimental smile that was only tempered by perhaps a hint of sadness. "It was so very long ago, but… for Ethan and I it feels like merely days have passed."
Freya hugged Vanessa once more – the only confidante she had ever managed to secretly make under Dahlia's ever watchful presence – and then turned her attention to the man waiting patiently for his turn to embrace her.
"Ethan," she held on to him like she might never let go before eventually drawing back to look up at him with an expression that displayed the deep respect and affection she had always felt for him. To have given up his life and everything he knew to remain by the side of the woman he loved was the sort of romantic sacrifice Freya had not encountered before or indeed after, in all her centuries of living.
"I didn't know when you would awaken, but…" she glanced between the pair, noting with a shiver of satisfaction how the looks that passed between them were as lingering and full of adoration as they had been a century prior. "I knew when you did, that if I were to ever see you again, you would be beside her."
Ethan ducked his head, his cheeks colouring just slightly as he found himself basking in Freya's familiar and infectious smile.
"I can't thank you enough for giving us our lives back, Freya," he said, deep voice husky and raw with emotion, yet still managing to boom across the compound.
The daywalker who had gone to fetch Freya seemed to take the pause in the reunion as his somewhat awkward cue to leave, and the unnatural speed with which he moved did not go unnoticed by Ethan. His eyes followed the figure of the retreating vampire before landing back on Freya, who had the decency to look a little chagrined. She couldn't blame Ethan for being shocked or even disappointed by her own affiliation with the species, even if that came without fault of her own from the family she had been born into.
When she had met Vanessa and then subsequently Ethan back in the 1800s, she had known very little about her birth family, beyond the half-truths and twisted titbits that Dahlia offered her. It had been Vanessa's power that had prematurely dragged Freya and then Dahlia herself from their slumber, but the slight delay in the latter had been just enough time to allow the former to make her escape at last.
Alone, vulnerable, and afraid, Freya had elected to seek out the source of power that had awoken her, as opposed to running from it. Although she knew that Dahlia would likewise do the same, attracted to the formidable witch like a moth to a flame, Freya recognised that Vanessa would perhaps be her best chance at permanently escaping the cruel clutches of her aunt permanently. And so, with no real comprehension of what she would find when she arrived there, Freya had followed a magical breadcrumb trail all the way to Grandage Place, where she had met a woman with whom her connection was instantaneous.
Blinking away the memories, Freya flashed Ethan a smile, hoping to convey to him the words that it would be far too awkward to speak aloud; they were both safe here, among friends, without doubt or question.
Chancing a glance over towards Hope, Vanessa linked her arm through Ethan's as Freya began to lead them up the steps towards the upper rooms of the compound.
"I thought it was your pain that I felt when we arrived, but… now I know we're here to help another."
Freya had the decency not to look even remotely surprised by Vanessa's perhaps spiritually aided assessment of the situation. She nodded with sadness, gesturing to the room that lay behind a set of French doors.
"I'll make us some tea, and then… then I think we need to talk. I'm sorry this reunion isn't the happy one we'd all have wanted."
Vanessa shook her head, her blue eyes cast downwards and her lips forming into a disapproving frown.
"It is what it needs to be," she dismissed Freya's apology instantly. "Besides, it is good to have a friend here… here in this new world we find ourselves in."
Smiling at the characteristically understanding response, Freya appeared momentarily more animated, as if allowing herself to enjoy their reunion to at least some small degree. It had, after all, been over 120 years since the two women had last seen each other.
"You must stay here… we have plenty of room, and… honestly, it'd be nice to have you guys around. It's been far too quiet lately."
"Well I can always be relied upon to cause a commotion," Ethan joked, only needing to meet Vanessa's approving gaze for a moment before he nodded readily, "we'd be delighted to stay. Besides, it seems you and Van have a lot to discuss."
Freya's grin was immediate and, for the first time in days, actually believable. Hope watched her aunt with open curiosity, wracking her brain to think of a time she had seen her so happy and alive. Of course she was equally content in Keelin's company, but the recent physical distance between the witch and her girlfriend had proven difficult for Freya to bear. It was yet another thing that was eroding her smile slowly but surely, and Hope was sad to see Freya's spirits plummeting alongside her own. Although Hope herself was miserable, she wished only peace for her family.
It was evident that the bond between the two women had never ventured beyond that of friendship, and nor would it, especially if the way the wolf named Ethan tracked the brunette witch with his eyes was anything to go by.
"Great… I guess I… I'll be in my room…" mumbled Hope, doing her best to offer the visitors a departing smile. She feared the gesture was a little too watery to be believable, but she raised a hand anyway in a wave and spun around.
She called out over her shoulder as she raced up the stairs, "Sorry about the whole attacking you thing!"
Seconds later, Hope disappeared from view and the slamming of a heavy, old door signified that they would not hear from her again for at least a while. The sigh Freya heaved shook her bones, and Vanessa rested a hand in the small of her friend's back.
"Reggie, you can take the room second on the left," Freya directed, receiving a nod of thanks from the man in reply. Pausing for a moment, she regarded Vanessa uncertainly, "And you and Ethan… or if you'd rather your own rooms, I…"
She trailed off with a shrug, uncertain as to where the couple might stand in regard to such matters. Things had been so different in that era, Freya recalled.
Vanessa laughed but a hint of pink coloured her cheeks as she looked up at Ethan. The glance they exchanged was clearly a brief flirtation. "One room will be perfectly adequate, thank you."
Ethan smirked as he pressed closer to Vanessa and felt her shiver the moment his breath tickled the nape of her neck.
"Perfectly," he echoed, waiting until she had turned to regard him and then offering her a mischievous wink that caused her smile to widen until it morphed into a huff of laughter.
Freya bit back a giggle of her own, gesturing to the ornate couches that sat at right angles in the lounge. "Please, sit… I'll make that tea, and see if I can't find us all something to eat. Might be takeout tonight, sorry, not really had a chance for a grocery store run."
Raising his hand slightly, Reggie cleared his throat, "Well I think I might go and check us out of the motel, ma'am, and gather up our belongings. I can stop by the store if you tell me what you need?!"
Freya opened her mouth to respond, grateful for the small act of kindness from a stranger, which she had begun to realise of late was such a rare commodity in a world that was all too often out for itself. However, she didn't get the chance to answer the man before Ethan, tone peppered heavily with curiosity, voiced the question that had immediately sprung to Vanessa's mind also.
"What's… 'takeout'?"