“You may have built it, but that doesn’t mean it stayed the same,” she said without missing a beat. She watched as he crossed her parlor, pouring himself a drink like he owned the place. She was going to have to change that. All in due time. Caroline was well aware that this would be a marathon, not a sprint. She had no intention of letting things escalade into a war. She shrugged her shoulders. “I will ask them to leave you alone. My apologies for attempting to help. There’s no need for violence. We’re all friends here. We ask questions first and murder later in this house,” she said, her head tilting to the side as she watched his eyes move over her curves. Well that was certainly different. Opting not to acknowledge it she moved back to her drink.
“Wonderful,” she breathed out from behind her scotch glass as he mentioned having already spoken to Sophie. That meant she could take care of the witches as she saw fit without him interfering. It also meant that Klaus would be heading out soon and she could stop baby-sitting. She was thrilled to get back to business as usual. It wasn’t that she wasn’t enjoying his company, but he had already overstayed his welcome. “Well, I’m glad you worked everything out. Since that was the purpose of your trip,” she said, icily before bringing the warmth back to her tone as she brought the drink. “Any special requests for your last night in town? Anything you’d like to see?” she offered with a smile. She could at least keep things civil for another twenty-four hours.
Klaus smirked into his drink. He could see how easily he was getting under her skin and her disdain, though she tried to disguise it, was rolling off her in waves. And there was nothing the hybrid enjoyed more than pushing buttons. Caroline may be the self-proclaimed queen…king, whatever, but this little vampire still had quite a long ways to go before she could pull anything over on him.
He leaned even further back in his chair in order to look up at her, watching her skin crawl as he drug his eyes up to her face with pursed lips. “Well you were the one whose constantly said New Orleans had changed quite a bit since my time, sweet Caroline,” he reminded her, using the childhood nickname he’d given her for good measure. “How would I know if there was something I’m missing? More over, if it’s changed all that much, why would I leave so soon?” He looked up to the ceiling, as if contemplating his next move. “New Orleans has proved to be entertaining thus far and I think I more than deserve a vacation from terrorizing the infantile vampires I’ve been chasing about back in Virginia. That is, if I’m welcome, of course.” He looked back up at her, an imploring look on his face as he reached on to squeeze her elbow. “For old times sake if nothing else, eh?”
Hayley, much like every pregnant woman, would have liked if her baby daddy’s could pay more attention to her, however, since she had been stupid enough to allow herself to sleep with Klaus Mikaelson, she figured it would be silly to ask that much of the Original Hybrid, so whenever she wasn’t in one of her moods, she usually hid away from him, figuring that the less she poked the wolf with a tiny stick, the longer she would be able to keep her head on her shoulders. Wasn’t what this trip was all about? Keeping her safe and alive and all that jazz. The brunette nodded while rolling her eyes, when the hybrid didn’t even bothered looking at her to answer her questions. At least, most of the time, he was polite… but right now?
Choosing to be the bigger person and ignoring this petty hybrid, Hayley pulled the bath robe closer to her body and sat down on the chair facing their room’s desk in order to call in for room service and order something for them to eat. Not knowing if Klaus wanted to eat anything, she ordered something for him as well. Because she was a good, fucked up person, who did things out of the goodness of her goddamn heart. Or maybe she just wanted to have an excuse to eat his food in case she got up in the middle of the night feeling hungry. The silence was harder to deal with when it was just him and her, Hayley reckoned. It was easier when Elijah was around or Rebekah was going on and on about something, just to piss Klaus off. Now, standing in a room alone with him, Hayley felt vulnerable somehow and she hated that feeling.
After she had picked a pair of pajama pants and a loosened shirt, the brunette walked back into the room, glancing over her shoulder when she heard Klaus’ voice. Hearing him talking about their child’s nursery sounded so off to her that she had to blink a couple of times in order to realize that he was actually saying those words. But, as reality sank in, so did the frustration. “Assuming we go back to New Orleans.” She said it with a shrug. “I mean, we’re miles away from your place, with no plans of going back soon, so… who knows. The cat may already be out of the basket — literally — when we do return. But… it’s a good idea. Thanks for suggesting.” Half of the time, when they weren’t butting heads, Hayley didn’t know how to act around Klaus. They weren’t a couple, they weren’t together in the biblical meaning of the word and they most definitely couldn’t stand one another, so how was she supposed to raise his baby among all of those hard feelings? Or even the lack of them?
There was a knock on the door and Hayley walked there to open it and let the room service man to bring in their food. She glanced towards Klaus again, who seemed to be too focused in his work in order to pay attention to anything else and sighed as she tipped the man. “Are you hungry?” She didn’t know why she bothered trying to form some sort of connection with him. There was only much that she could handle before she got tired of being either ignored or pushed around anyway. Not waiting for an answer, Hayley picked up her dinner plate salmon with a four-cheese risotto and moved to the dining table that their hotel room held, some feet away from their bed. She focused on her food and tried to ignore Klaus’ presence, because that was probably what he had been ever since they had arrived there: ignoring her.
Once she was done, Hayley moved to the bed, taking a seat and pulling the pillow to rest on her lap as she looked over at him. “Your drawing skills… Where did you —um… acquire them? I mean, everyone knows you’re the artist. Did you manage to draw something less boring than the paintings I saw that one time?”
The hybrid paused, his hand ceasing it’s incessant motion across the page. As of late, he hadn’t exactly known what he was drawing or painting when he turned to sketching or the canvas. Often, a lot more often than he’d like, snapshots from various walks of his long life had ventured to the forefront of his mind. He stared down at the random, nondescript shapes in differing stages of completion and smirked, letting out a short breath. “I suppose that’s why art is subjective, love. The parts of my deep, wounded soul you find boring, another spectator or a curator at the MET, the Hermitage, or the Louvre may find interesting.” He tossed the sketchbook over to her with a shrug before standing to see what she’d ordered him. He didn’t necessarily need food, not after being alive for a thousand years but sometimes keeping up with appearances was nice.
After drumming his fingers on the tray for a moment, he decided he wasn’t hungry and moved back to the bed. “You’re welcome to it if you like,” he said, nodding towards the untouched tray of food. “I’m more of a breakfast person, myself.” His eyes drifted from watching Hayley to the page his sketchbook had fallen open to as he recovered his previously reclined position.
"I can’t exactly remember when other than childhood. Surely Elijah’s disclosed the nastier parts of my upbringing to you. Art, and granted back then the definition of art was drastically different than it would be even fifty years after that time, was my way of understanding the world no one would explain to me— why my father constantly raised a hand to me, why I was so aggressive compared to other children my age. But after a thousand years, the details all become a tad blurry. And, to be quite honest, I never started honing the skill until the tenth century. I’d been a vampire for nearly two hundred years and I’d all but forgotten my meager artistic endeavors from childhood. It was a dark time and I was in desperate need to regain some semblance of control."
He’d never felt more alone than he had during the years of and the years following his bout with the Hunter’s Curse. They weren’t something he liked to think of, either. Remembering was uncomfortable at the best of time but this…these memories were painful. Blood-curdling screams falling from his own lips, phantoms appearing and disappearing, stakes pointed at siblings, the self-inflicted pain. Even his dreams had been invaded and that had, quiet possibly, been the worst part. He’d wake up screaming, often to find himself still immersed in violent hallucinations or whimpering pitifully for, or already in, the arms of his brother or sister. And it had only been at Elijah’s pleading that he’d finally turned it all off— not that the visions had relented, he simply just hadn’t cared. And when his brain had finally cleared Elijah, Rebekah, and even Kol had slaved to get his switch back on, they’d expected him to move on as if nothing had happened. But he couldn’t. The Nik they wanted back was gone, destroyed by those fifty-two years, four months, and nine days and they didn’t understand. They couldn’t understand.
Klaus shook his head as if to clear the memories that still haunted him. “Afterwards, it was all I did. We were in the Italian countryside at the time and, in desperate need of a scenery change, we moved to the cities and that’s where I really began perfecting my skill whether it was painting or sketching, cartography or sculpting and although I favor the former, the medium never mattered. Desires came and went, often in failure, my father hunted us down, siblings left and others around me passed on but art…it was always there.” He paused reaching for the bottle on the night stand and taking a drink. “It was often the only thing that mattered or was important. What I wouldn’t give for things to be that simple once more.”
The Vampire Diaries 3x14 | “I fancy you, is that so hard to believe?”
Lyla frowned slightly when he mentioned that he had heard. She figured word had gotten around. Chances are buddy was the one who told everyone. He had never been able to keep things to himself; she guessed this was one of them. She nodded softly, “He is, but he’s doing great so far. I’ve got him back on a diet that’s supposed to help with the chemo, cutting out some things. Hopefully this will get things back on track. He’s going to be okay,” she said, not sure who she was trying to convince, herself or Tim. She laughed softly, “I’m sure he would love that. You know nothing makes him happier than getting to play motivational speaker to those kids. He’s still upset I was a cheerleader and not a football player. Especially since BJ never played.”
She watched Stevie move around the front of the restaurant, unable to stay still. Honestly, she was thankful for the distraction. She could use it today. She nodded, walking over to him and taking a seat in the booth across from him. “I would ask you how the Panthers are doing this season, but I get the play by play of every game Saturday morning so I think I already have a pretty good idea,” she said, glancing over at the little boy who was perfectly content with his ice cream cone. “How are you? How is everything else? I feel like I keep missing everyone when I come back to visit.”
"It’s Dillon," Tim said with a shrug. "Football on Friday nights, church on Sunday mornin’, and the other days in between. It’s probably not as exciting as what you had going on up in Nashville but it’s home. It’s life." He chuckled lightly. "I do have a new appreciation for Coach Taylor, though. Tryin’ to keep those knuckle heads in line," he said, watching Stevie walk around, high five-ing random customers. "It seems like there’s always some kind of trouble going on."
He shook his head at the fond memories from his own high school days. Always up to something he shouldn’t have been up to— like the one time he’d taken Seven out and gotten him drunk before practice or hanging out and cuttin’ up with Six well past Billy’s attempt at curfew on a Saturday night. Even when there wasn’t any trouble to be found, they always made something out of nothing. “I’m good, though. It’s not a whole lot but I like it pretty well. It’s good to actually get a chance to talk to you. I think I saw you from afar last time you were in town.” The truth was, Tim had no idea. He tried not to think about Lyla all that much. He’d become pretty nostalgic over the past few years anyways and he didn’t exactly like being reminded of the one thing he’d never exactly stopped wanting even when he should have. There’d been opportunities to move on but he never gave them a whole-hearted attempt.
“He’s looking at you.”
One of her friends said as Astoria finished reading that chapter right there where she was standing. The short brunette could have left Hogwarts all those years ago, but her Ravenclaw stance was hard to lose. Or miss, for that matter. Unlike Daphne, Astoria had never been much of a snake anyway, but her pureblood name – as well as her snarky and witty remarks —, almost put her in the Dungeons along with all the other Slytherins, however, it was her love for riddles and books and puzzles that landed her in Ravenclaw. They would always call her a snake in a raven’s suit, but Tori had never truly believed in it.
Lifting up her eyes from the page that she had just finished reading from her Herbology book, the brunette noticed a black-haired man staring at her and, now that he had caught her attention, he was smirking directly at Astoria, making her feel slightly uncomfortable, at the same time that she seemed to have some sort of ego-boost, because he was handsome. Still, the only thing she did before she returned her gaze back to the book, was to shrug.
“More like staring, but if he doesn’t have the guts to get off of his arse and come here, then why should I bother with him? Besides, he has those crazy eyes.”
Not that she would always expect men to take the first step, but if he seemed to be interested, then he was supposed to get up from the chair that he had been sitting at the Café near St. Mungo’s and go talk to her. After all, Tori was a busy Healer-apprentice and didn’t have time for petty boys who were too scared to talk to girls. Speaking of girls, her friends’ comments were starting to bother her, so, the short brunette excused herself, telling some pre-fabricated lie about her her parents were supposed to throw this fancy dinner on the weekend and she was expected to come home early to try on the catering and help her mother decide what she would have the house elves do. They were not purebloods, they could never know how things worked at the Greengrass mansion anyway.
Astoria was a terrible liar, that much was true, but when it came to the Greengrasses, there was a dinner party to attend on every weekend or so.
After saying goodbye to her friends, the young Greengrass turned her back and started walking down the street, before she turned around the corner and bumped into someone, dropping the books that she had been holding so tightly against her chest. Tori almost took a step back when she saw the blonde man standing in front of her. After all this time and everything that his family and him had said and done, she couldn’t believe her eyes. However, the brunette held her stance, chinning up for a moment, before she crouched to pick up her books and notes.
“Draco Malfoy… what brings you back to the wizardry world?”
The brunette asked, quickly standing up, not leaving much room for him to be a gentleman that pureblood boys were supposed to be. Or, in his case, men. He looked 25-ish, but Draco – from what she remembered seeing in her school years – had always looked much older than he was. Huh, the fact that Daphne used to be close to him was now the reason of that light ticklish feeling in her stomach that was making her want to laugh.
To say Draco had made himself scarce after the war would be an understatement. After his trial and his parent’s trial, he’d disappeared from the Wizarding World. He’d needed space and time, something his parents and the people around him couldn’t offer. He hadn’t told anybody when he left. No one would understand— the few friends he had would try to convince him to stay, his father would look down on him with that dead, disappointed stare, his mother would cry and he didn’t want any of that.
The war had taken it’s toll on them all, he knew. But as someone who’d grown to not want any part in it but had no choice in the matter, it wasn’t easy to come to terms with. He wanted to be separate, away and alone. He wanted to live his life the way he wanted it and when their summer home in the French countryside wasn’t enough with it’s reminders of a past, happier time for his family, he’d moved on to Switzerland, determined to make something of himself. It seemed odd, going from the boy who had everything handed to him on a silver plate, to a man who actually wanted to make something of himself, to alleviate some of the wrong he’d done during his years as a Death Eater and it certainly took some getting used to but once he’d put talents he hadn’t known he had or hadn’t respected to good use, it became easier.
And that’s how he found himself working as a Healer. First at various places in Europe and, finally, back home at St. Mungos. He hadn’t been back for terribly long, two weeks at the most, and other than visiting his parents at the Manor, he’d kept to himself. He had no real desire to rekindle broken relationships that were linked to his past. By no means was the former Slytherin a good person but he was better, an improvement of the first-rate prick he’d been a few years back.
He normally looked the other way when he saw someone from his old life but he didn’t really have a choice here, not that the Daphne’s younger sister was an unwelcome, familiar face. They’d barely known each other whilst they’d both been in school but the other Greengrass girl certainly had a reputation in the Slytherin common room thanks to Daphne constant chatter.
Although she didn’t leave him much to do, Draco uncharacteristically knelt down to help her pick up the various papers and books that had went flying when they’d run into each other. “I thought it was about time to return home and stir up what trouble I could back in London.” He looked at her as they stood back up, the blond straightening his white coat as he did so. She wasn’t anything like the little girl he remembered, not that he was expecting her to stay the fifth year she’d been the last time they’d seen each other. “You look well, Astoria. What brings you here?”
Hayley nodded at his affirmation, trying her best not to smile when Klaus said he would not kill her. Yes, she had managed to stay off of Klaus killing radar, sure. But that didn’t mean that she trusted him. It was blatantly obvious that the hybrid wasn’t very fond of her, so his words may mean the world at the moment, but who could promise her safety if, any day after their child had been born, he could kill her just because she would say something he didn’t like or because she didn’t know how to make proper tea. No, wait. Elijah was the one who liked tea, not Klaus. It made her wonder what exactly she knew about the hybrid. Hayley might not be the role model of a mother, but she wanted to have something else to tell their child other than ‘your dad is the original hybrid and he likes snapping necks and ripping hearts out’.
"Tea… Do you like tea?" The brunette asked from her seat, back to her curled up position as she looked up at the hybrid sitting behind the wheel. Realizing what a silly question that must have sounded, especially to him, Hayley was quick to change the subject, just in case he decided to ignore her, and since they were on a serious topic before, she simply cleared her throat and pulled out her phone, before she wrapped Klaus’ jacket tighter around her small frame. “Actually…” She began saying, while typing fast on her phone. Her slim fingers seeming like they were barely touching the screen. “Rebekah has been easing my mind when it comes to you killing me. While Elijah has been making promise after promise to protect me. It pisses me off if you wanna know.” Hayley finally confessed, wondering if she should have done so. She didn’t trust Klaus, she probably was never going to trust Klaus, so, saying something like that about his brother was probably not a smart idea.
But then again, her list of smart ideas had been burned and tossed in the air when she slept with Klaus anyway. “Turn right here.” Hayley instructed absentmindedly. Her phone, as well as her laptop was filled with informations on baby stores, so as soon as she got rid of those pages, she could focus on the right directions to the hotel she wanted them to go. “Which one of the rooms I’ll be able to turn into her nursery?” It seemed easier to ask him random questions while she kept her eyes on the small screen in front of her, than it was to share a meal or even a table with him, she reckoned. “Turn left, then drive three more miles. I’ve made a reservation for us. You can use your hybrid mojo and compel the guy to let us stay for free, I suppose?” She shrugged again.
Once the car came to a stop, Hayley hopped down, keeping his jacket wrapped around herself to keep both her and her baby warm. She could try and deny it, but that was a damn comfortable jacket. Grabbing the pillow that she had brought along with her, the young werewolf sauntered into the hotel, leaving Klaus to his bidings. He would probably compel someone to take their things upstairs anyway. Normally, Hayley would wait, but she was tired and sleepy and she needed a shower. And room service. Definitely needed room service. The receptionist gave her the keys to their double suite and she made her way up to the 8th floor, going directly to the bathroom. Things would be so much easier if she didn’t have to deal with the constant nausea. It was like this baby girl was doing everything in her power to make Hayley feel exhausted. Or maybe that was how things worked in any pregnancy.
The smell of the bleach they used to clean the bathroom made all the food that she had eaten to tickle her throat. Moving to her knees, Hayley said goodbye to her delicious and greasy meal while she flushed it down the toilet. Letting out a displeased grunt, the shewolf locked the bathroom door and turned on the shower to let the hot water jet to take away the stress and to ease the knots on her shoulders and neck. Once she was done, she returned to the main bedroom with a bathrobe wrapped around her body and using a towel to dry her brown locks as she glanced over at Klaus. “Do you want to have dinner or something? My last meal went down the drain a few moments ago. You should order us —” Hayley pointed to her small bump “— some fancy food.”
The hybrid smirked during her incessant rambling as they drove to the hotel, from tea to his brother to which room in the mansion could become their daughter’s nursery. It eased his mind to Hayley was beginning to grow annoyed with Elijah’s White Knight Syndrome. The rational part of him, if such a thing still even existed, knew he should welcome the extra protection his brother provided Hayley and his unborn daughter. But Elijah had always had a way of usurping his every position and he couldn’t help but insecure and inadequate standing in his brother’s shadow. The eldest Mikaelson was much better equipped for fatherhood than Klaus would ever be and the hybrid hated it. He despised how his older brother felt the need to control him and jump in to alter plans Klaus had been going through with ever since he’d daggered Elijah. This was his revolution, his throne, his family, and, most importantly, his child and it was high time Elijah realize that. Elijah had forced him into this in hopes it would make him care and, by some stroke of luck, Klaus did care and he cared immensely for this child and, by extension, for Hayley.
Which was part of the reason why he’d, very begrudgingly of course, been the one to get Hayley out of the city while they enacted their most recent plan to undermine Marcel’s empire. He’d much rather miss the festivities in the Quarter if it meant keeping his brother from undermining his position as protector, a job he’d had far more success with than Elijah had or was willing to give him credit for.
It wasn’t exactly easy to push the thoughts from his head as he finished business at the front desk and followed Hayley to their room. They plagued him constantly. For once he wanted to feel adequate enough, not only in the eyes of his brother, but the she-wolf as well. He was never quite sure where he stood with her. The hybrid tried not to think about it. There was little time for him to worry over it anyways what with his diabolical scheming and whatnot but whenever his brother was mentioned or butted into plans concerning Hayley and they baby, he couldn’t help it.
Thankfully he had the rest of the bottle of scotch he’d taken from the rag-tag bar they’d stopped at to keep him occupied as the she-wolf busied herself in the bathroom. The hybrid left the room to fetch them ice and then settled onto the bed with his ankles crossed over each other, sketchbook propped on his lap and bottle open on the table. He didn’t acknowledge Hayley until she spoke to him and, raising his brows, he pulled the information booklet from the bedside table and handed it to her. “There should be a menu in there. Order whatever you like, or write it down for me and I’ll place it while you settle in,” he offered, eyes never leaving the beginnings of the sketch he had in the works.
"I was thinking the room just down the hall and across from yours. For the nursery," he said after a moment, still not looking up at her as she rustled about with her post-shower routine. "The one overlooking the orchard. The final choice is yours and you’re free to pick whichever unoccupied room you fancy, of course, but I figured it’d be best as it’s on the back of the house. It’d be more peaceful." The hybrid wasn’t an expert on fatherhood or anything that had to do with young children. He was far from it but he figured the rest of the household would appreciate the location as the inevitable crying wouldn’t hinder any of their activities all too much. It also seemed like an ideal choice, not only because it was close to Hayley, but he wasn’t all that far away, either. The she-wolf would be the primary caregiver, he knew, and, by no means was he offering to be left alone with a child he could easily hurt and not that he would be at the top of the list for help, but he wouldn’t be far away should Hayley want or need what little assistance he could provide.
Lydia sighed. There was no way in hell that Kol was going to let her pass without a joke or a teasing comment, was it? Huffing, the redhead sniffled and chinned up. She would be a fool if she didn’t expect Kol of all people to crack a joke about her Head Girl status or anything else that Jackson may have said behind her back. Things were so much easier for the Whittemore kid, weren’t they? All he had to do was to pretend that he didn’t care and act like the major twat that he truly was and everyone would look up to him and try to be in his inner circle and all that. Even Potter was less of a piece of shit than Jackson. But she was facing Kol now. It wasn’t the time to think of Jackson and start crying again, especially since it was none of other people’s business that she was still hurting and that all the bullying was petty and unnecessary. Lydia planned on focusing on school and finishing her year with sky-rocking grades that would lead her to a post at the Ministry for Magic.
Pursing her lips, Lydia flashed Kol an acid smirk as she chinned up and crossed her arms. Her green orbs averting from his hazel eyes to the drunk girls in his arms. One of the girls swayed in his arms, looking like she was about to throw up, which made the redhead to step back with a disgusted expression on her face. What was wrong with these girls? Sure, getting drunk was always fun, but not to the point of throwing up. Nobody liked kissing someone who tasted like vomit anyway. “That would be me.” She told him with a forced grin toying on her lips, while tilting her head to the side. “And here I thought that a Mikaelson would be smarter than to simply repeat some scumbag’s words. Silly little me.”
It was about time that she would start fighting back, right? Since ignoring everyone was not working, she might as well find the snake in her and use it to her advantage. “But then again, I shouldn’t expect much from you. You’ve never been much smart anyway.” Her eyes never left his and Lydia should know better than to pick a fight with a drunk guy, better yet, with a drunk Mikaelson, but she was tired of swallowing back her words anyway. “Do you still have that teeny tiny problem? Of… You know…” Leaning closer to him, she whispered loud enough for the girls to hear. “Coming too soon?” Brushing away an invisible spot of dirt from her short, black dress, Lydia raised one brow remembering his invitation to join them in the bathroom. “And why exactly should I? You’re obviously in so much better company.”
Kol snorted, his smirk dying on his face but just barely. “Oh, come now, darling,” he said, holding his arms out wide. “There’s no need to behave like a petty third year.” He took a swig from the bottle he was holding in his right hand and walked forward a couple steps. He couldn’t really care less if the two girls walked off right now; he’d never see them again, let alone remember them if that happened and he would simply stumble down the corridor a little ways and knock on Nik’s door until his brother opened up and whine until he let him crash on the couch. “Funny you bring that up. I can safely say I never had that problem with any girl before you. Or Katherine for that matter,” he added off-handedly after thinking about it.
The thought of the brunette made him cringe and he brought the bottle back to his lips, nearly polishing off the rest of the fire whiskey inside. “So, take that as a testament to your ‘head girl’ duties or not. It’s up to you. But one thing’s for sure, you really need to loosen up, Martin. It was just a joke,” he stated, giving her an as-a-matter-of-fact look. “Even Forbes was looser than you and we all know the stick she had up her arse.” The longer this conversation went on, pounding on Nik’s door and whatever lecture that brought on in the morning was looking better and better. But because he was apparently a masochist, Kol held the bottle out, offering the remnants of the whiskey out to the red head, fully intending to finish it off himself if she didn’t take it.