Day one of house arrest starts well. It's rare anymore than you get to sleep in as late as you want, so you take the opportunity to laze in bed. The sun is almost blinding, streaming through your curtains before you get up. You take the time to cook yourself breakfast: cubed sweet potatoes and onion baked in the oven, bacon, and a poached egg on top. The flavor bursts on your tastebuds and you close your eyes in the bright sunlight. Steam rises from your tea.
You've only been awake an hour, eating your breakfast in your pajamas in your kitchen, when you realize this is the best day you've had in a long time.
That says more about your life than it does about your cooking.
You spend the rest of the morning cleaning your house top to bottom. Your roommate's old room still sits empty, you don't know what to do with it. Even if you did, you don't have the furniture to fill it. She at least cleaned it before she left, you note with some level of grudging satisfaction.
You tie your hair up and cover it while you dust and clean the baseboards. You're on your knees, scrubbing dirt out of the creases of your linoleum, when there's a knock at your door. You look up. Belatedly, you remember Elijah's promise to come by for the grocery list you have stuck to your fridge.
You open the door with a greeting on your lips. Kol's eyes sweep over your dirt stained clothes.
"I see you weren't expecting guests," he says dryly. You tense.
"And I wasn't expecting you," you say as evenly as you can manage, "You're not here to strangle me again, are you?"
"Would you believe me if I said I came to apologize?"
"No."
Kol's face cracks into a devilish grin. "You're smarter than you look," he comments and you nearly want to slap him, "Your madeleines won me over."
"Only good vampires are allowed to come in."
"You let in my brother," Kol says, "Nik is far worse than I am."
"Hm," you say, "You may have a point there." You don't really want to let him in, but you can tell he's not going to leave. You move out of the doorway. "Come on in."
He steps inside and looks at your cleaning supplies scattered around.
"Has the isolation affected you already?"
You roll your eyes. "I needed to clean anyway, I just didn't have the time." You drop your rag on the kitchen counter and wash your hands. "Not that I'm not happy to see you," you add, "But why are you really here?"
"Klaus wants us to watch you," he says idly, wandering around your house, "I picked the short straw."
Your brow furrows. Klaus hadn't mentioned anything like that. You find it unnecessary, but you don't intend to argue with a temperamental vampire.
"Did you try the wine I left you yet?" He continues.
"Oh! So it was you?"
He lifts an eyebrow. "Do you have any other secret admirers I should know about?" You snort.
"You are not an admirer."
"Smart girl," he comments, smiling wickedly.
"And no," you say, "I haven't cracked into them yet."
"Well," he says, "The day is still young."
"It's noon," you protest.
Kol shrugs.
Kol ends up getting you day drunk within the hour, a feat that would be less embarrassing if you hadn't spent the first twenty minutes nursing a single glass of wine. You didn't intend to get drunk, only intending to drink enough to calm your nerves. You have more nerves than you thought.
"What the hell is in this?" You ask him. You try to read the label, but the words swim just out of reach.
"It's stronger than the usual fare," he says, amused, "Which probably accounts for how pissed you are right now."
You frown at him. "I'm not mad, why would I be mad?" You try to glare at him, but you get too dizzy and have to sit down.
"Not angry, you stupid American," Kol says, rolling his eyes, "I'm calling you incoherently drunk." His tone is much milder than it was last time he was here. Like he's made the conscious decision to be nice.
Yeah, you don't quite believe that.
"Oh." You blink and feel somewhat dumb. "How aren't you drunk yet?"
He spreads his arms form his position in your arm chair, grinning wickedly. "Vampire, remember?"
"Oh, yeah," you say and you collapse in the chair across from him. Somehow you don't spill your glass. "I keep forgetting that vampires are real." You sink into the cushions, becoming one with your arm chair. You don't think you'll be able to get up.
"I'm not familiar with the feeling."
You wrinkle your nose. "Well of course you're not, you've been one for like, a thousand years or whatever." You get the distinct feeling he's laughing at you, but you can't really tell.
"Where did you hear that?"
"I met Elijah."
"Ah," Kol says, "The golden child."
You frown. "What do you and Klaus have against him? He seemed nice." More than nice, you want to say.
"Yes, that's the problem," Kol says impatiently, "Vampires aren't 'nice'. He insists on this gentleman persona. It's grating."
"Sounds to me like you're jealous," you say and almost immediately regret it.
Kol bares his teeth in a smile that comes off more threatening than joyful. The ever present tension you feel in the presence of a Mikaelson tightens. The alcohol doesn't help. "And why would I be jealous of the second most boring member of my family?" You wonder who the most boring is.
"I don't know," you say, "You tell me."
Kol looks like he might combust. Or kill you. Even drunk you can tell you're walking a tightrope. You change the subject.
"Do you like being a vampire?" You ask.
His face flickers and you think you catch a glimpse of some sad, tired side of him. It startles you. "Sometimes. It's strange. Powerful."
"I don't like the sound of that."
"It's not all that bad," Kol argues, "Being a vampire has its perks." He sounds like he's trying to convince himself.
You nod and your neck feels weaker than usual. Your head rolls in a circle. You rest it on the back of the chair. "I'm sure it does," you agree amiably, "But so does being a human."
"What on Earth is better about being a human than a vampire?" Kol questions in disbelief. He gets up from his chair to the rapidly dwindling wine collection. You tense when he passes by you, but he doesn't even spare you a cursory glance.
You shrug. "I don't know," you say, "What do you like most about being a vampire?"
"Have you ever done any recreational drugs?" Kol asks casually, settling back in his chair with another full bottle of wine.
You blink at the non-sequitur. You think you would have a hard time keeping up with this conversation even if you weren't plastered.
"… Not really."
"Hm," he says, "Not surprising now that I think about it."
You don't know if you should take that as an insult or not.
"What does this have to do with being a vampire?"
"I never experimented with drugs while I was human, not a lot of opportunity to in viking-era North America, so I don't know exactly what that feels like to a human," Kol continues, bypassing your query and only managing to inspire more questions, "But drinking blood gives more euphoria than all of them put together."
"Oh."
You can't tell whether it's Kol's monologue or the wine that makes your stomach queasy. Kol must notice the expression change on your face.
"I won't drink from you," he reassures with some level of amusement, "Vervain is poison to vampires." The spool of tension in your gut starts to unwind and something else clicks in your head.
"Does it burn?" You ask.
He pauses, confused. "Yes…" He answers and then his face brightens into a gleeful grin, "Please tell me my dearest brother drank from you."
"… Yes, it hurt." You can still feel the phantom pain underneath your still fading bruise.
"What I wouldn't give to have seen Nik's face," he says, delighted.
"I think I'm good," you say dryly, "Not something I want to relive."
"You're lucky you're still alive after that," he says, "Nik has killed for far less."
"Are all vampires this violent?"
He shrugs. "The ones that survive tend to be." Ah, so not genetic.
"Then I'm counting that as an advantage for being human," You say resolutely. Violence begets violence, or however that quote goes.
"Violence is not unique to vampires, dearest," Kol drawls, "Humans are some of the most vicious of the lot."
Your brow furrows. "I'm not saying that," you say, "But not all humans are violent."
"But all have the potential," he counters and you just look at him in disbelief. The wine has made you more open than you usually are and you can't control the expression of sheer skepticism that lingers on your face.
(Dangerous, you tell yourself, to be so open).
His lips curl. "I can see you don't believe me," he adds.
"I think you're an idiot."
He bares his teeth. "Careful, dear."
You look at him with a fixed blankness. "You would've killed me earlier if you were going to." You speak with a bravery you don't feel. His head tilts and his eye care locked on yours. He pushes himself out of your chair in one smooth motion and slinks towards you.
"And how would you know?" Kol questions. He's invading your space, bent down so close that you're almost touching. His eyes are so dark you feel like you're drowning in oil. You shift as an unidentifiable feeling rises in your core. "I could be biding my time for the perfect moment where you feel safe before I rip open your sternum and tear your heart out."
You swallow.
"Does drama just run in your family?" You ask but your voice shakes. He laughs but doesn't back away.
"Some would say," he murmurs. He looks hungry, but you don't know what for. His eyes trail downwards and linger on the fading bruise he put around your neck. You don't think you would know how to handle this sober, so drunk-you decides to push him away. Surprisingly, he lets you. You drain your glass before standing up.
"I'm hungry, I'm making lunch."
Kol saunters back to his arm chair and pours himself another glass. You take the opportunity to busy yourself and hide in the kitchen. Or at least hide to the extent you can in a fairly-open floor plan. Gripping the edge of the counter, you breathe, exiting you all at once in one shaky exhale. Your head swims. You shouldn't have drank so much. Getting nearly-drunk with a vampire is not the best move you could've made.
Too late now.
You take out what's left of your produce and start a salad. There's still some leftover lemon vinaigrette in the fridge, you get it out and put it on the counter. Kol wanders back in with a second wine glass in his hand. You look at it skeptically as he holds it out to you.
"Kol," you say, "If I didn't know better, I'd say you're trying to get me drunk."
He grins. "You're smarter than you look."
"You understand why that sounds threatening, right?" You ask dryly, but you mean it.
"Last glass! I promise," he says, "For you at least." You have a feeling Kol is going to empty the rest of the bottles himself. Begrudgingly, you take a sip from the proffered glass. It doesn't make you feel any worse, to your surprise. It actually seems to make your headache disappear.
"Is this a different bottle?" You ask.
He pauses.
"Yes," he says, "It's not as strong. I don't want you passing out."
You roll your eyes. "I'm not that bad off, don't be ridiculous." You drain the rest of the glass and suddenly feel better than you had for the past hour. You twirl the stem absent-minded. "I like this one a lot," you say.
A smile tugs at Kol's lips. "I'll be sure to get you more of it."
You turn to frown at him.
"You don't need to do that."
"Why not?"
"Because those look more expensive than anything I can afford."
Kol rolls his eyes. "Consider it prepayment for me drinking you out of house and home."
You're not going tow in this argument. "… Fine."
You take down a cutting board and a knife and start slicing a cucumber. Kol watches you as you put together a salad. You'd offer him one if you thought he would accept.
"You're not vegetarian, are you?" He asks.
Broad amusement seeps into you at the disgust in his voice.
"No," you say, amused, "Not quite. Still don't really like the idea of vampirism."
"You will."
You don't like the sound of that. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck start to prick up again.
"Scoot," you say.
"Pushy." Kol gets out of your way and you sit at the breakfast bar. Your eyes try to blink closed. You have a very strong feeling you are going to spend your afternoon napping. There are worse things to do, you suppose. Kol inspects your house as you eat your salad. He dips inside your bathroom and spends an inordinate amount of time in there.
"Are you going through my medicine cabinet?" You call. You don't get a response. You're pretty sure that means he is. He comes out moments later, looking vaguely disappointed.
"What?" You ask, amused, "Didn't find the sordid drug habit you were looking for?"
Instead of answering, he continues his inspection of your house in the kitchen.
"You cannot possibly live like this," he insists in disbelief.
"What?" You ask, crunching on a carrot, "Normal?"
Kol seems strangely irate. You'd be wary if it wasn't so funny. "This is not normal. What are your skeletons?"
"What, are you going to go all 'what is your deepest, darkest desire' on me?" You ask derisively. He bares his teeth.
"Don't tempt me."
"I thought vampires couldn't compel people who are on vervain."
"Don't worry," he says pleasantly, "I can just bleed it out of you."
"Hm," you say, finishing your salad and resting your head on your hand, "That doesn't sound enjoyable."
He grins like a knife. "No," he says, "I expect it isn't."
You're not quite sure what Kol wants from you. Well, that's not entirely true. You're sure he would be exceedingly pleased if you confessed to a murder or something like that, but you don't have any comparable crimes. The mistakes you've made in your life tend to only hurt yourself. (You don't think Kol would count that).
"Do you want me to kill someone or something?"
He laughs. "If I thought I could get you to do it, yes."
You can tell he means that, which is a little horrifying.
"What will it take for you to understand that most humans are good people who don't do terrible things?" Kol's lips curl.
"Do you truly believe that?"
You blink. "Of course."
He looks at you like he thinks you're an idiot. You get out of your seat and start cleaning up after yourself. Kol just watches you like he's trying to dissect you with eyes alone. You struggle for words.
"Kol," you finally say, "I think you spend a little too much time with vampires if you think I'm an anomaly."
"No," he refuses, "I've never met someone like you before."
You turn to look at him and his eye are trying to bore into your skull. "Kol," you say, "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard in my whole life."
His eyebrow twitches.
"I've lived for a thousand years," he says imperiously, "The one human constant is their propensity for violence."
You can't find it in you to be annoyed. Kol's misconceptions betray him. You wonder how he got to be a thousand years old without growing up. An uncomfortable wave of sympathy tries to crest in you.
Must be the psychology major in you.
"Kol," you end up saying as gently as you can, "I don't know a lot about your life, but people tend to attract what they put out."
"What do you mean by that?" He mocks.
"You seem to me like a very angry person," you say, "Unkindness inspires unkindness in others. No one is born evil, it's created through years of injustices."
He's quiet for a moment. "Whatever these inept instructors are teaching in schools these days is deplorable," he says, but he's more subdued than before. You don't have a response so you fill up both of your glasses with more wine. You hand his to him.
"Join me in the living room?"
He accepts.
The tension has almost disappeared when there's another knock at the door. You have the very strange feeling that you and Kol are bonding. (Worrying, for sure. But that's a problem for future you to analyze). Kol isn't brooding like before and you're pleased to note that he seems more inebriated. Or that could just be you. One glass turns into two very quickly, you find. You stumble towards the door and it swings open.
"Oh, Elijah!" You say, delighted, "I forgot you were coming by." No surprise considering you can't seem to cling onto your thoughts for longer than thirty seconds at the moment.
His eyes slide past you to Kol sprawled in your arm chair like he owns the place. "I meant to come by earlier," he says, eyes coming back to you, "My apologies."
"Elijah!" Kol calls, "So nice to see you." His tone is this side of malicious. You shoot him a look.
You turn your attention back to Elijah. "Please come in, Elijah," you say politely. He obeys and steps inside. You close the door before more warm air can escape. It's already cold enough inside.
"I didn't know how long it would be before I can get groceries again, so the list is pretty long," you apologize.
"That's quite alright," Elijah says, "We have people we can send as often as you'd like." Your brief mental image of Elijah wandering around a generic grocery store dissipates.
"Minions, you mean," Kol says with an uncaring grin.
Elijah inclines his head and doesn't deny it.
"We live very different lives," you blurt out. Elijah gives a half smile at that.
"It would be worrying if we did not." He has a point there. His eyes glance over the collection of empty wine bottles in your living room to Kol still watching you in his chair.
"I confess I didn't expect to see you here," Elijah says, "Did you come to heal her just to ease your conscience?" Your brow furrows.
Kol bares his teeth. "I don't have a conscience."
"Wait—" you interrupt, "What?"
Elijah's eyes flicker down to your neck and a strange expression dawns on his face. Your spine straightens.
"Kol," you say, "What the fuck did you do?"
He glowers mutinously. "I did you a favor." Anger like a coal rises in your cheeks.
"I didn't fucking ask you to, did I?" You leave before he can respond, rushing to your bathroom. There's no bruise around your neck anymore, the mottled greenish yellow faded back into your normal skin tone. You remember the glass of wine Kol poured for you, how strange it tasted, how it took away your growing headache.
"I'm going to kill him," you growl and don't mean it. You want to hide in your cramped bathroom, but you know you have to go back and face them. Well, you think, at least Elijah is here too. A witness in case Kol murders you. When you go back to your living room, Kol is gone. You look at Elijah with a waspish expression. He shifts.
"…I'm afraid most of my siblings are not good at confrontation when they know they're in the wrong," he says.
Your jaw tightens. "I see." You suddenly wish you weren't drunk anymore. "I'm guessing Klaus didn't tell him to come over for my protection either?"
"Not to my knowledge," Elijah says apologetically. You rub your eyes, weary.
"Your family is a mess."
"I am unfortunately aware." He pauses and you can feel his eyes on you. "Here, sit. I'll make you some tea." He guides you over to one of your own arm chairs and drapes a blanket in your lap. He tucks it around your shoulders and you can feel the heat of his palm through the knit fabric. You shiver. The kitchen is only partially visible from the living room, but you watch Elijah move around like he's always lived here. You take the intervening minutes to try and calm yourself. It doesn't work.
You're still angry. You haven't felt like this in years.
Elijah comes back with two cups and he sits in the seat Kol vacated.
"Thanks," you say. He put milk and honey in it, just like you usually do. You're surprised he remembered.
"I sincerely apologize for Kol's actions," Elijah says, taking a sip, "But I know that means little."
You give him a tight smile. "I appreciate it," you say, "I'm more angry about him deceiving me."
"He should be more careful. Vampire blood doesn't just heal humans."
Your brow furrows. "What else does it do?" Elijah pauses and settles his cup on a coaster.
"If a human dies with our blood in their system," he says finally, "They will become a vampire as well."
The heat of your anger disappears to be replaced by cold dread.
"But it won't kill me, right?"
Elijah shakes his head. "No, you're quite alright," he says, "Just be sure not to die."
You force a smile. "I'll do my best," you say but the ball of anxiety in your chest doesn't unravel. You suddenly want nothing more than to be alone. You must not be as good at hiding your feelings as you think you are, because Elijah stands up.
"I won't intrude anymore on your day," he says courteously, "I'll see you soon, I expect."
You want to be polite and tell him he doesn't have to leave, but you really, really want him to.
"I'm sorry," you say but he cuts you off.
"It's quite alright, I understand." He gives you a small smile and you can tell he means it. Relief washes over you.
"Thank you, Elijah," you say.
"Enjoy your tea, I'll have your groceries delivered tomorrow." You nod at him and he leaves through the front door. You don't hear the telltale sound of a car starting like you would with a normal guest. Your head feels heavy as you settle in your arm chair, staring blankly at the walls. You've never been the kind of person who's life revolved around other people. Never kept the company of violent people. You feel that starting to change. Idly, you wonder how long it would take for the Mikaelsons to consume all of your boundaries— all of your time— if you let them. Your eyes try to blink close, earlier premonition coming true.
You're starting to believe that this isn't just a passing blip in your life. That this is permanent.
The thought sends you into an uneasy sleep.
I keep forgetting I made this account so here's the update! Hope you guys are having a nice day :-)