She posted? So early? Whaaat?So, I am currently in a reading slump :(
but all I do is write, so maybe not that bad :)
Let me know what you guys think. Hope you like it. I, for one, can't wait to write the next chapters hehe.
A thousand years ago Klaus Mikaelson cast his heart aside. It didn't help him when his mother took part of him away, it didn't save him from his father's abuse, it didn't bring him safety, power and the possibility to keep his own out of danger and it certainly did not get him through years of life. No. Cruelty did. If he needed something, he'd take it, if he feared something he'd crush it. He put his mind to good use for bad acts, intelligence becoming rather cleverness. Paranoia. Passion become viciousness. Obsession. Love for his siblings turned into a desperate need to protect them that soon was affected to by the decaying of once a beautiful soul of a human artist. Now, Klaus Mikealson painted with blood images of death and sorrow, a sad change from the boy who played with colors and made pretty sights come to live out of his brush. Now, he kills without hesitation, punish with pleasure, sure he knows best, and no one is safe from his iron hand. Specially crafted daggers can put his siblings to sleep when needs come. Klaus use them with no remorse.
And yet, there is one thing this terrible creature fears. Mikael. The vampire vampire hunter. After the Mystic Falls baby vampires and their friends failed to use one of the daggers on him – it can only affect vampires, his werewolf side saved him – Klaus learned they're trying to reach out to his father. The man who hates him the most for being born not his own. The man who terrorized Niklaus and plagues his dreams still. Even so, Klaus can't bring himself to care as much as he should.
"Are you sure, Nik?" Rebekah asked the tenth time that half an hour. Elijah stays quiet as usual, watchin his younger siblings. His eyes drifts especially on Niklaus, worry and confusion clear in the brown of them only for few who truly know him.
"Yes, dear sister," Klaus says with a small smirk playing on his lips, "I'm sure. That boy, Tyler, managed to bring me this information before his friends casted him out of their skimming. They are looking for Mikael."
The blond man spoke in a light, almost making tone. But tension hid behind it, ready to snap. Rebekah, however, was too shocked to notice. Here is her brother, who has the most reason to panic, being the least worried of all three of them. Even Elijah flinched at the news! Of course, the original vampire girl knows her older brother won't be deemed as weak, hiding his emotions – if he has any anymore – from his closest siblings too. But such event should have bring something out of him. Instead, Klaus is sitting carelessly on the couch in their living room, pencil between his fingers, drawing on his sketching notebook.
It's been a week since that childish imitation of the grand, roaring 1920's at the school party. His beautiful 1920's. Ever since, Klaus was glued to his art supplies. Always sketching, or drawing. He even started a painting, but he wouldn't let anyone look at it. Rebekah tried one day, rolling her eyes at her brother's antics. Who cares if it's not done yet! Niklaus painted it, it ought to be perfect; half-finished or not. But the hybrid threw a tantrum like never before and she gave up. No mysterious painting is worth a dagger in her heart for the next centuries or so.
No one understood this behavior. Despite being a paranoiac, raging beast, Klaus could usually choose his battles. The man knew how to juggle with his emotions and mood swings when he wanted. He seemed to lack the energy lately, though. Too many thoughts filled his mind. And weirdly enough, not even one space of his brain focused on the possible upcoming threat of his father. All swirled around the same subject: Celia Forbes. To take her out of his mind, he tried panting, drawing, anything! Nothing worked. The more he saw her lifeless eyes starring back at him from a sketch, the more he wished to look up into the real ones. Those cinnamon eyes that can melt logic and spice up a dead heart. The more he draw her face's lines, the more his fingers itched to touch her again. To brush his lips to her skin as he did when he whispered in her ear sweet challenges as he did at the dance.
Arguments crawled and crowded his thoughts, pushing and pulling at everything related to the little witch. A small smile crept on his lips. Little witch. Something only he knows about her, or so he thinks. Anyway, it is a well kept secret and she shares it with him. For the first time in far too many years, Klaus realized he upholds information not for the sake of manipulation, but because... because why? Of course he thought about the million ways he can use her secret against her, but he knows if it comes down to this, he'll only bluff. He won't tell on Celia Forbes.
Meanwhile, in the other part of the small town, a certain little siphoner woke up with a surprise. It became a custom to receive motivational quotes from Dylan, or tweets from Keith, followed shortly by a video call from the whole NY gang: Snakes, the boys, Cooper and even Old Ruru herself sometimes. A sweet morning routine before long classes with kids only one year older than her that act as if they're all known deities and she cheated some unwritten rules.
Today, though, two big, brown eyes loomed over her sleeping body, chasing away Celia's dreams with their excitement.
"Whoa!", the witch sucked in a breath, heart beating too fast for a person who just woke up. When her gaze landed on Snakes, though, fear turned into a ball of anger. "What the hell!?"
The younger girl only laughed. "Sorry, C-witch! Didn't mean to scare you."
"Mhm. And what did you think would happen if you break in someone's house and watch them sleep?"
The bubbled sound of Lydia's laugh dimmed down until it completely stopped. Despite the obvious smile on her face, an apologetical look shone in her eyes. Celia rolled her eyes, one last clue of her dying anger, and then allowed herself a genuine smile. She wrapped the young gorgon in a tight embrace. How much the girl changed!
Two years ago, Lydia wouldn't even reach her shoulders on tiptoes. Now, she seemed taller than the siphoner. The last time Celia saw her, she wore leggings and t-shirts with motivational quotes, a wardrobe more colorful than the rainbow itself. Now, Snakes seemed to have found her style: a large red crop top paired with black elastic jeans and a checkered shirt as a belt tied around her slim waist. To keep her warm from the occasional cold wind a sporty jacket layed on her arm. Her long hair, braided in many tiny tails moved slightly, framing the beautiful features of the dark skinned girl. But Celia knew that hair could turn in dangerous snakes and those big, pretty innocent eyes could become deadly in an instant.
"Wait, what are you doing here?" The siphoner asked after they broke apart.
"We're all here, actually. Surprise visit since you ghosted us."
Celia didn't know what to say. She found nothing in her thoughts either. It's true that in the past months she has been distant. The witch didn't even tell her best friends about the school dance, or the originals vampires and all Mystic Falls had to endure this last year. A wave of guilt crashed her. And then another strong feeling pushed it aside. Lydia, Keith and Dylan, are all here! Just to see her and check up on her properly.
"Cooper and old Ruru stayed home, I mean. But anyway, the four of us are together again. For the weekend." Snakes said, but Celia was too lost in her mind to listen. Besides, she figured that much out. How lucky she was to have such amazing friends!
"They're outside. No one's home, but your window's easy to open."
Celia got up, raising an eyebrow, but said nothing to the little handy girl. She knew the gorgon lived on streets before Keith and Dylan took her in, and the struggles of surviving were something the siphoner was too familiar with.
"Keith, Dylan, you are allowed to come in," she yelled from her window and waited. Sure enough, two figures brushed past her. When she turned, there they were: het best friends. The short dark skinned optimist and supportive guy and his tall, smart and pretentious white boyfriend. They make such a cute pair, Celia can't stop smiling every time she looks at them. Oh, how she wished a love story of her own!
"You want to see the world, travel and be free. I can show it to you one day, perhaps" The words kept rolling over in her mind. How did he know? Celia was careful to not show anything but gratitude to the small town that saved her life. She traveled with her siblings before, all over the world, but they were hiding, laying low. She craved freedom. And somehow Klaus Mikaelson saw right through her. Why? Why offering her the wish that keeps tugging at her heart for years? How did he know that and why can't she stop thinking about it? About his husky voice, breathing warm on her neck as he whispers in her ear with his disgustingly charming accent. About a stupid promise that makes no sense that made her heartbeat increase.
"And then I froze."
"You? No way!" Celia dismissed the idea. The incredibly confident Keith can't be speechless in front of a crowd. Not even if he just won a short film competition.
"Oh, but he did!" Snakes snickered.
Dylan bit back a snort like laugh. "You know, Celia, I prayed for decades he would shut up for once. Never have I imagined all it takes is a shiny award to silence him."
Keith acted offended, but the slight smile playing on his lips betrayed his true emotions. "Come on, babe, I don't talk that much." The vampire leaned in towards his boyfriend.
"Then you must be deaf, lovey, if you think that." Dylan closed the distance between them, concealing a smile of his own, but unable to keep it from his eyes. Their lips locked sweetly, closing the two boyfriends in their own little universe.
"Gah," Lydia made a face. "Get a room you two!" She said playfully. The others at the table just laughed at the younger girl.
"Alright, so you froze and didn't hold your speech. At least you'll do better next time. But what about Dylan? He got a job!"
"Oh, yeah," the taller vampire flushed. His cheeks were still red from the kiss. No matter how long they've been together, Dylan still gets flustered by small acts of affection in public. The color on his face intensified when all attention snapped on him, even if his companions are his besties. "It's really great. I get to write articles on fashion and no one is there to tell me my tastes are wrong. Besides, people read what I write and get back to me sometimes with nice comments and whatnot."
With each sentence he spoke, his smile grew, his pupil dilated and a mist spurred inside his eyes as he got lost in his dreams. Keith looked at him proudly while Celia reflected his expression of pure joy.
"Oh, C-witch, you should have been there!"
"I know, I know, I wish I was. But Care needed me here and I don't regret I could help."
"Right," Keith mussed. "You still haven't say a thing about your adventures."
"I believe it's Lydia's turn, though." Celia tried to spare herself some more time.
"No-uh," Snakes crossed her arms and leaned back. "I will have a story after the summer camp. All I can say now is that I won the scholarship because I am a science genius at only fourteen."
"My life would be easier if I had your confidence" the siphoner stated, bumping her fist with her younger friend. "Alright, then, here we go. Brace yourselves."
And Celia let it all out. For the first time in months, the witch lifted her burden and allowed people to help carry it. Sure, she could have talk to her sister, but Caroline has so much to deal with herself. Celia couldn't share everything with her. When she finished the story, her shoulders slumped backwards with relief. She didn't hold back, touching even the Klaus subject. The words flew out her mouth before she had time to realize what words she formed and just like that, the three yankees found out about the heavy thoughts clouding her better judgment.
"Get out! The originals? But they're stories, no? Oh, God, Cece! And you met them?"
"Are you alright, Celia? Sounds like a lot of stress and trouble."
"Boys, am I the only one who noticed the biggest issue here? C-witch has a soft spot for a criminal. A very bad one, girl!"
The mixed couple changed a look before casting their eyes down. Lydia was right, of course! Their sweet, darling Celia that wants to help every poor soul in need surely would try to comfort a hurt vampire, no matter how demaged he is. After all, she befriended them and a mean witch back home in New York. And even though Celia can play tough and rough, both Keith and Dylan know how much she'd rather avoid to let her dark side out of its leash. Thinking about making friends with a Mikaelson is not the best way to go.
"I do not!" But the disbelief in Lydia's eyes mirrored the disbelief in Celia's heart. She knew she would develop some sort of pity and mercy towards Klaus Mikaelson since Elijah told her his story. But after everything he did, she shouldn't feel anything but fury and disgust. And yet, when they danced, the siphoner was sure she saw a glimpse of... something else in him: easy-going when he would usually be stiff and tensed, smiling instead of grinning evilly. If Celia wouldn't know any better, she'd believe he showed affection, compassion, understanding. She'd think he truly gets her – glimpses of it, bits and pieces. Whatever she did, she could not shake that feeling off. Especially because of his proposal. Damn him! If Klaus wouldn't have told her that, opening the prospect of seeing the world, of him showing it to her, Celia would easily replace all the speck of good that may lie in him with what logic dictates her. But there is goodness in him, and that makes Celia want to dig it out.
"What?"
Her question flies through his thoughts too many times a day to be comfortable anymore. Indeed why? He asked himself the same thing, over and over again since that stupid party. Klaus cannot find an answer. He couldn't then, when the little witch asked him after their dance, and he can't know as he is drawing her.
It was so unlike him to escort Rebekah at the dance, more so since he did not support her enrolling to Mystic Fall High. After several pleas, just when his beloved sister was about to give up trying to convince him, an idea bloomed in his mind. Maybe he can earn something – or someone out of it. Of course, the Salvatore's plan to search for Mikael was still a secret to him that night. But he knew they were plotting. And one spy is never enough. He thought he can use Celia, after all he has to use her secret one of these days. Why having such precious information if he's not putting it at use? So Klaus invited her to dance. With all the music, chats and loud steps of morons trying to keep up with the moves, he and the little witch could have some privacy. Something he was sure would please her.
But then they danced together. Once. And again. And songs passed by and neither of them noticed. She was flushed, but not tired, Klaus remarked. Happy. Energetic. She freed herself and allowed music to take control. Inwardly, she pulled him with her. The hybrid complied, fascination drawing in every particle of his being. Then he saw it: the caged spirit, wanting to break free. And a chord inside him snapped. Niklaus knew all too well how it feels like to be trapped, yet not physically restrained. He wondered once more at their similarity. Except, this girl had a heart still. A living, beating one that can enjoy the beauty of the world. One he looked at, but didn't fully experienced.
If his life depends on it – and thank God, it doesn't! – he wouldn't be able to tell what happened. He felt an extreme urge to give it to her. Hope. The world. Anything she'd ask for that would keep alive the flames in her eyes. So he told her those idiotic words and when she, normally shocked, asked why, he ran. Klaus Mikaelson ran away like a shy school boy after confessing his love. If the blood on his hands wouldn't have starred back at him reassuringly that night after feeding on strangers (pass-byers not locals, and making sure to hide the bodies so no one could ever find them), Klaus would think of him as pathetic, weak.