Chapter Six
The silence in the car had grown to become an entity in itself. Elena had refused to speak since they'd left the party. His every question had been either answered in a monosyllabic word or a motion of her head.
Klaus had grown accustomed to Elena's voice, and that is why the silence was much more invading today.
As the car ran on the deserted roads of New Orleans towards Klaus's villa outside the city, Elena did nothing but stare out of the window as if she found the rushing trees and lamp posts much more interesting than him.
"Elena?" It was maybe umpteenth time that he was calling her name, but like every other time before she ignored him. She'd been this way since she'd come from freshening herself up.
He was certain this was all Elijah's fault.
If it was left on Klaus, he would have thrown his brother out of his company years ago, but thankfully or unthankfully-depending on whose side you were-Kol had reasoned with him and they'd agreed that Kol would handle Elijah exclusively and big brother wasn't to show his ugly mug in Klaus's office ever again.
Parties were the only place where Klaus and Elijah came before each other. And they spent the whole time trying to ignore each other with gusto.
"Why me, Nicklaus?"
The first thing that registered with Klaus was that she'd never called him by his full name. From the very beginning, he'd been Nik for her.
He liked being Nik with her.
And then the question hit him like a blow after the initial realization.
She knew.
Fucking Elijah!
His hands were shaking, and he didn't trust himself not to plow into an oncoming car or truck. He pulled his car on the side of the road, his heart trembling inside his chest.
If Elena had been someone else, he would have lied without batting an eyelash. But Elena knew him.
And she deserved nothing but the truth from him.
"What do you want me to say, Elena?" he asked, turning towards her as he laid his head on the steering wheel.
She looked at him with a desperation that he too was feeling.
Her eyes were filled till brim and if she blinked once more, the tears would fall on her cheeks. He didn't want those tears to fall. He didn't want her to shed a single tear because of him.
"Lie to me…"
The tears made a straight line on her cheeks to fall on the fabric of her dress.
He couldn't take it anymore.
He pulled her in his arms, from her seat to his lap. He knew his hold was too tight, and she would bruise where his fingers dug into her arms, but he couldn't stop himself. Feeling her was as elemental to him as breathing or living.
She'd come in his gray life with a burst of colors, and unique melodies of her songs. She'd come in his life like the final ray of the sun in a cold wasteland.
She'd drawn him out from his hard shell, and soon even he couldn't recognize his face in the mirror.
"I wanted to hurt him, Elena. I wanted to hurt him as he'd hurt me, and I was so blinded by my revenge that I refused to see who else I hurt in my quest," he said softly, his hands wiping the moisture off her cheeks. "You were nothing but a means to an end in the beginning." He winced as she stiffened in his arms, her eyes accusing as they met his.
"But then stubborn Elena Gilbert started to beg me to take her home because she was afraid to drive on the streets of New Orleans. After that, she started to invite me for late night mac and cheese. And then she was demanding I sing along with her to give her some sort of clarity for her songs," he whispered. "And then Elena Gilbert was such a big part of my life that I could do nothing but watch myself change from my beastly self to something closely resembling a human."
She gave him a watery smile. "So, Klaus Mikaelson isn't the heartless bastard he started out as?"
"Neither is Elena Gilbert the same runaway."
They sat silently, her head on his heart where she could hear the solid regular thump. His fingers were pulling out the pins from her elaborate hair-do.
She got headaches if she left the pins for more than four hours.
He remembered.
There was nothing about this woman in his arms that he didn't remember. He remembered the first time he'd heard her sing, the first time he'd seen her, the first time he'd dragged her to a party. He perfectly recalled every back-breaking hour they'd spent in the recording studio, perfecting her melodies and lyrics.
There was nothing that he didn't know about this woman.
From her wasted guardians to her junkie kid brother, Klaus had heard everything.
Even the part where Elijah had grouped her with rest of his groupie entourage.
There was something fundamentally vulnerable about Elena Gilbert beneath that entire happy go lucky attitude, and it tugged at his heart strings.
She burrowed in him for comfort and he clutched her fiercely. He wanted to hide her somewhere, so that no one ever hurt her again.
Elijah had come too close today.
Klaus couldn't allow Elijah to tarnish something as naïve and beautiful as Elena.
He'd ditched his plans of revenge because of Elena, but that didn't mean that he could let Elijah go unpunished.
Klaus had forgiven Elijah once for hurting him, but this time, Elijah had tried to play his vile games with Elena.
Elijah was going to learn his lesson of what happened to the people who made Klaus's queen cry…