Chapter 32:
He caressed her soft flesh with the tips of his fingers, leaving a trail of goosebumps along her spine. She squirmed under his touch oh so delectably, her lips parting in a way that made him want to kiss her. So he did. He leaned into her, pressing her further into the mattress under her stomach. His thumb turned her head back just enough to allow him to taste those pretty plump lips of hers.
"Marigold," he growled her name. "I'm going to go mad if I don't taste you."
"Then taste me."
He dragged the strap of her pretty little dress down her shoulder, then buried his fangs deep into her skin. She moaned in response, squirming even more, so much so that he had to use his body to hold her down. It must have hurt her, at least a little.
"I must feel you. Inside of you. Marigold..." He sat back, using both hands to pull her hips up from the mattress. His slender fingers worked to carefully push her dress up to her waist, which gave him access to what he really wanted. "Let me in, Marigold."
"I invite you... Elijah." Her words were more than enough to spur him on. Elijah gripped her hips in his large hands, then filled her with as much as her little body could take.
Elijah broke out of his slumber, then jolted upright. Certainly he had not dreamed of Mari in such a way. Was his mind betraying him purposefully to punish him for taking her away from his brothers? Yet, it seemed to be more than his mind betraying him. His body was as alert and aroused as it would be if he was in bed with a woman.
But he was in bed alone. He had been alone in bed for some time, since Hayley was staying out of the city with Hope. Perhaps that was all it was. A mixture of his concern over the situation with Mari and his longing for Hayley. Maybe his mind just muddied those two feelings together and created an abomination of a dream.
He was sweating, and his pants were annoyingly tight against his member. He let out a growl, then threw his pillow across the room with enough force to knock a painting from the wall. Elijah could not have those kinds of thoughts about Mari, nor should he. It wasn't as if he had any romantic feelings for her. His heart was indifferent to her, except for a bit of softness that comes from a sort of acquaintanceship.
Elijah ultimately decided it must have been his guilt that was plaguing him. Such a raw emotion needed to be address, so that it might leave him alone, especially while he slept. He wanted no more dreams of Mari, so he decided to pay her a visit to apologize at the very least.
Klaus couldn't help the smile that blossomed on his face as he watched Mari struggle a bit to hang one of his paintings. He had given it to her because she was the muse that inspired his, his broken little angel. Mari wanted to hang it in her new apartment, and she insisted on doing it herself. Only, she wasn't quite tall enough.
"Allow me," Kol finally intervened, when she seemed to become flustered. He lifted it for her easily, then set it in place on the hooks Klaus hammered in for her. Mari turned back with a happy grin once it was in place.
"I love it, Klaus."
"I'm glad, darling." She was so pleased with the painting, it made Klaus want to paint another. This one should capture her smile, he thought to himself, that beautiful, bright smile.
"You're very talented," she told him as she skipped over to flop down in his lap. Mari was feeling quite playful that day, from what the brothers could see. She was full of energy and happiness. It infected them like a disease.
"I have talents of my own," Kol pouted a little. He scooped her up from Klaus' lap, into his arms, and Klaus made no move to protest. They were supposed to work on things, to make it right. Neither of them wanted to be separated from Mari again. Next time, Elijah might remove her memories for good, then the love she held in her heart would vanish. No, it couldn't happen; they had to behave.
Mari giggled cutely as Kol nuzzled into her neck. She squirmed in his arms, crying about being ticklish, not that it stopped Kol. He liked the sound of her laughter too much to stop.
It was such a beautiful moment. Everyone was so happy, that a sudden feeling of dread struck Klaus. Fate loved to take away all that he held dear, and it especially loved to do it when everything was perfect. It was all too perfect.
As if Fate wanted to prove him right, a sudden vibration in his pocket disturbed the picture perfect moment. Kol loosened his grip on Mari and let her slide to the ground. She padded over on her bare feet, tilting her head quizzically. They all expected it to be Elijah, but it was worse. Much worse.
Klaus listened to Marcel carefully, then hung up the phone. His smile faded and warped into a harsh scowl that made Mari anxious. She didn't like it when he made that face.
"What is it?" Kol asked elder brother.
"There is a witch rebellion in the quarter. Marcel was trying to squash it, but he is apparently too caught up in consoling a teenager to bother being competent. Now he requires our assistance. I'm tempted to refuse."
"Klaus," Mari said his name gently. She laid her hand over his, then dropped down onto the couch beside him. "You should go."
"Why? After all he has does, Mari, I-"
"Klaus," she said a little more firm than before. "He cares about you still. Marcel still cares about you, and he's asking for your help. He must really need it if he is able to put his pride aside like that. You shouldn't refuse him."
"Your heart is too big, Mari," Kol complained with a frown. "His battle with the witches has nothing to do with our family. Freya is a witch."
"I'm not saying you should help him crush the witches in the quarter," Mari quickly corrected herself. "I just meant maybe... maybe it's worth making sure he's okay. Don't you think?"
The two Mikaelsons pondered on that for a moment. Neither were in the mood to kill, not after having such a wonderful, peaceful day with Mari. Then again, Klaus didn't want to risk Marcel's life, even if he was angry with him. He was a son to Klaus once, and maybe he always would be, if only a wayward son.
"I concede," Klaus sighed. "Mari's right. We should pay him a visit, make sure he keeps his head a little while longer."
"I shall accompany you, but once we know he is safe, I am leaving," Kol grumbled. "I'm coming home to our Marigold."
"I'll be fine," she reassured them with a soft smile. "I still have some unpacking I can do. Just promise to he careful. You both have to come home when it's all said and done."
"Of course," Klaus sighed. "We will always come home to you."
"Good. I'll always be here to come home to."
Elijah cleared his throat, then straightened his tie. He wasn't sure why he felt so anxious, though he hid it well from his facial expression. If he was to face her, he could not let his stoic expression falter. She could not see that she made him nervous in that moment.
After sucking up his pride, Elijah lifted a hand to knock at her door. It took a few moments, but soon he heard her little bare feet crossing the wooden floor. A lock clicked, then the door swung open.
Mari stood there in shorts that covered the bare minimum and a black tank top. Her hair was thrown up in a bun, and stray strands fell around her face in golden waves. She looked so entirely domestic, like a piece of the kind of life he longed for. Only, she seemed afraid.
"Elijah. What are you doing here?"
"Have they found you?" He asked first. Elijah had not seen or heard from his two younger brothers in a couple of days. Of course, the most likely reason was that they were searching for or spending time with Mari.
"Elijah, I know I promised-"
"I am not angry at you, Marigold," Elijah promised. Somehow, just saying her name brought back the memory of the dream that plagued him the night before. "You did as I asked you to. You left, even though it hurt. You cannot control my brothers anymore than I."
Her head dropped, eyes fixing on the ground in shame. She looked so utterly dejected that he was certain it was guilt that caused him to dream of her. It wracked through him in that moment.
"May I come in, Mari?" Elijah asked. If he fixed things between him and Mari, he was certain that he would never dream of her again. "I would like to say a few things."
She hesitated for a moment, just staring at her own feet. When she lifted her head and pushed her glasses back up her nose, he was almost sure she was going to refuse him. Luckily, she nodded her head instead.
"I invite you, Elijah."
I invite you... Elijah.
Why did she have to word it like that? She spoke those exact words when she visited him in his sleep, and the situation suddenly felt like a waking nightmare. Elijah cleared his throat, then stepped into her little apartment.
"I came to apologize, mostly. I feel as though I may have been to harsh, too quick to push you out. It was never your fault that my brothers developed feelings for you. I should not have punished you for their... disagreement." He looked around at the progress she made in making the apartment her own. Elijah noticed one of Klaus' paintings on her wall.
"I don't hold it against you, Elijah. You're doing what you think is best. Sometimes, that's all we can do." She offered him a polite small, then returned to the task she had been working on before he knocked on her door.
Elijah sent a new set of dishes with the rest of the furniture she moved in wish. Mari was washing each dish by hand to make sure they got clean enough. Elijah continued to look around the house, but his steps halted when he heard a crash in the kitchen where Mari was working on the dishes.
"Damn it," she winced. Elijah smelled the blood before he even took a step towards the kitchen. It flooded his senses, rippling through him like a current that pulled forth every buried desire within him. He growled softly, then ventured towards the kitchen.
Mari was crouched on the floor over a scattered pile of broke porcelain. One of the dishes apparently slipped from her hands, and a plate, it seemed, shattered against the floor. While picking up the pieces, it appeared that Mari cut open her palm right by where her thumb attached to her tiny hand. Blood dripped down to her wrist.
"I'm so sorry," she whined. "I know these dishes are new."
"It's quite alright," he breathed. Elijah bent to grab her by her arm. With ease, he pulled her up to her feet. He took her hand in his, turning it over to leave her fresh wound facing up, facing him. The blood was shiny and dark against her pale skin. It taunted him, called to him.
"Elijah."
He didn't even hear her say his name. His own blood seemed to pulse in his ears in perfect rhythm with his heart. Everything went quiet, except for the crimson running down her arm that practically screamed at him. He should have fed that morning. It was a mistake to come see her while he was hungry. What was wrong with him?
Something in him caved. Elijah was usually the best at impulse control, but every fiber of his being ached to taste her. His head lowered to meet her palm, and his tongue captured the drop of blood as it felt. He followed it up to her palm with his lips, then dug his fangs into her little hand.
"Elijah!" She yelped in pain as she attempted to jerk her hand back. It was futile; he was latched onto it by his sharpened teeth.
He backed her into the nearest wall to give himself more leverage against her. Elijah wasn't done tasting her. She was so sweet, so addicting. Her blood tasted better than any of the donors back at the compound. Mari was the sweetest treat, and he was not full.
When she started to push at his chest with the hand he didnt have in his clutches, Elijah's free hand snagged her by the wrist. He quickly pinned it back to the wall, giving her nothing else to fight with but her legs. Only, he liked it when she squirmed. It reminded him of that bloody dream.
"You're hurting me!" She cried, and that was enough to snap him out of it. Elijah jerked himself backwards, tearing his fangs from her flesh. Mari whimpered, then shrunk back against the wall as much as she could. Her bleeding hand was pressed as close to her chest as she could hold it.
"Marigold... I'm so sorry." Elijah licked his lips, a last taste of her oh so sweet blood. "I should have fed myself sooner. I did not mean to hurt you, I swear it."
"Please leave," she panted, eyes watery and wide with fear. "Please."
Elijah didn't need to be asked twice. He vanished before she even had time to let a single tear slide down her cheek.