Hey, guys!!. Sorry about such a late update. Been kind of in a rut, writing wise, so haven't done any in a while. Trying to get back to all my stories.

x-x

For possibly the first time since I was a child, i'm finding it impossible to fall asleep. Seems everytime I try to close my eyes, they open again determined to fight against me.

I can't get those eyes out of my head, that flashback of Damon driving that stake through his heart, his skin going grey and lifeless. I know that's the reason why I can't allow myself to let sleep in and claim me.

I shouldn't be feeling like this, to be mourning over the death of a stranger who somehow doesn't feel so strange to me. I should be feeling the exact opposite, should be happy that my cousin was safe and she wasn't destined to be sacrificed in order to break some ancient curse.

I'd somehow managed to convince Elena that I needed some alone time. As much as I still yearned to be reunited with Jenna and Jeremy, the one thing I craved above anything else was my own company.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't shocked to discover that she'd been in a relationship with one of the two vampires who'd rescued us and that it wasn't the raven-haired, blue-eyed one, but the fair-haired one who just happened to be his brother.

The Salvatore boys had naturally been surprised to find out I was a relation of hers and I wasn't surprised that they automatically were a little wary of me. But I had pretty much convinced them within an hour of the drive back to Mystic Falls that I was to be trusted.

I hadn't told any of them even my cousin about my angelic half. Damon and Stefan may have helped us, but part of me didn't 100% trust them. I don't exactly hate vampires, but I was far from a lover of them even more after nearly getting taken away by one.

As well as being unable to sleep, I find I'm unable to write anything down in my diary, the words unable to come to me, the book getting put away not wanting to look at it let alone write in it.

I let out an irritated grunt rolling over onto my side staring at the red glow of the numbers coming from my alarm clock, the hour still early just after two.

I wasn't expecting sleep any time soon, my hands throwing my covers back then getting out of my four-poster bed grabbing my yellow robe pulling it on then making my way out of the room turning on the light as I go.

Instead of going downstairs, I end up in the room opposite to mine, it once being my old bedroom, the one I'm currently using having once been my mother's.

Most of the furniture was still uncovered apart from my tall lamp and dressing table. I had made the choice to turn this room into an art studio having brought my supplies with me from New Orleans.

Drawing and painting were the only two things I was ever really good at growing up. It was as if I was born to be an artist. My mom always told me that I picked up a pencil before I could walk, something I'd always doubted.

Cami would always tell me I was good enough to make a career out of it, but I never felt like I had the guts to try and make it professionally.

Faces were always my favourite things to draw, male and female, young and old. I would spend most of my days in New Orleans in the French Quarter, sitting and sketching anybody who would pass by, anybody with an interesting face.

I had drawn Cami quite a few times, sonething she had loved, her keeping my drawings much against my protests.

I can't help but smile remembering all the times Marcel had tried to convince me to draw him, me turning him down everytime. His constant attempts to charm me were seriously beginning to get annoying.

I pull my phone out of my robe pocket going into the Spotify app, going into my rock and metal collection, settling on some Within Temptation, laying it down on the table then moving over to my easel.

I turn to a fresh page, picking up my pencil checking it's sharpened knowing exactly what I want to draw.

x-x

I let out a giggle, my hands picking my gown up starting to run hearing footsteps follow close behind me, not caring that I was getting wet, not that he was as well.

I've always loved the rain, would always be fascinated by a thunderstorm, the sounds of it in the sky, the bright flash of lightning, the smell of the grass when it became wet.

I know father wouldn't approve of his daughter sneaking out at night, to run and dance in the rain like a mad woman. But the storm would always call to me like a siren calls to a sailor on the seas causing his destruction on the rocks.

I run faster, trying desperately to escape even though I was starting to get tired due to the rain which is getting heavier ending up further into the gardens trying hard to listen to those footsteps that aren't mine.

I feel myself eventually give up resting my back against one of the Elm trees, breathing heavily, closing my eyes, the leaves helping to shield me from the heavy rain.

I let out a shriek feeling myself get grabbed around the waist getting pulled off the trunk, my screams turning into giggles, my eyes opening, staring into his intense blue depths, feeling myself fall into them.

"Got you, love," he smirked, his hands moving up to my face, his palms cupping my cheeks.

I knew who he was, knew what he was and I didn't care. Nor did I care that I was in love with another man as well as him or that it was his brother.

I move my hand to his face, my fingers brushing his long curly blonde locks back. And my hand ends up pushed back into the rough wood of the trunk, pinning it there making me gasp, shaking a little.

My eyes flutter closed feeling his mouth move slowly up the curve of my neck, his hand keeping mine pinned to the tree, his fingers slipping through my own.

Suddenly, my eyes fly open finding i'm on the floor of my art studio, the music having stopped meaning my phone was probably dead, it needing a charge.

I wince a little sitting slowly up, my hand rubbing my arm, it hurting a bit having clearly passed out, the room flooded with light, it now being the morning.

I'd had yet another dream, but it wasn't about Elijah this time, but the other man, Niklaus. And for the first time, I'm starting to feel genuinely worried or I guess that should be scared.

If the Elijah from my dreams was real, does that mean that Niklaus is as well?. Does this mean he's an Original as well, that they're brothers?.

I don't want to think right now, slowly getting up, wobbling a little steadying myself on my easel, the picture on it only being partly done.

Even though it's early, I seriously need a drink making my way downstairs, my eyes landing on the grandfather clock in the hallway seeing it's just after 7.

Then they move to the front door seeing something laying on the mat just outside, it looking quite small.

I move to grab the angel blade off the table in the kitchen, gripping it tightly even though I probably didn't really need it, walking slowly to the door, unlocking it, opening it fast finding nobody stood there making me lower the blade.

I look down to the mat finding the object is a small long black box tied with a white ribbon, it making me frown, bending down and picking it up then closing the door, locking it.

I walk through to the living room sitting down on the couch, putting the blade down next to me then undoing the ribbon pulling it off, opening the box finding a piece of paper rolled up.

I frown again unrolling it slowly. And I feel my stomach lurch finding it's a drawing, staring at it, shaking a little. I feel sick, my hand moving over my mouth, my other hand flattening the paper on my lap.

It's a drawing of myself dressed exactly like I was in my dreams, the dream I'd just had when I'd passed out upstairs, my hair wet from the rain. Written at the bottom was just one word.

SOON.