Petrichor - e.mikaelson

42

The dress that Klaus had given Cami for Frankie to wear was stunning. More than just stunning it was possibly the most beautiful thing she'd ever even seen. It was red, a rich deep burgundy with crystals all over it that made it sparkle with each glint of light it caught. The skirt itself flowed to just above her shoes while the top half had sleeves just past her elbow with a such a deep V that even for Frankie was a little scandalous.

"My tits are out," she groaned, turning to face Cami dejectedly, "like basically out for a free show."

"Don't be such a drama queen," Cami laughed, "I've got tape, we can just-"

"Tape?"

"Oh my god did you miss the lesson on how to be a girl, yes, tape."

"I don't think I want to duct tape my tits away," Frankie said wearily, stepping backwards as though Cami was about to attack her, "I don't know if this is worth the free champagne. Do you even know who this Tristan de Martel is?"

"No," Cami shook her head, "I asked Klaus and he said he did and that Tristan would know enough about you not to hurt you. I mean the actual words he used were that no one sane would dare lay a finger on you but I presumed that distinction meant you were in the clear."

"Lovely," Frankie rolled her eyes, "An evening of 'exquisite excess' with someone who knew the dead me. Is this a bad idea, me going? I don't want to just barge in there, if he hates me and all it would be-"

"He doesn't hate you," Cami cut her off, "It's clear he doesn't. I mean we talked a decent bit in that cabin, he didn't like talking about you but I know he wasn't over you."

Frankie felt a twinge of guilt as Cami mentioned the cabin she and Elijah quarantined themselves in the year earlier when both had come under fire. She knew they'd stayed there together with Hope and that their friendship had developed there. That had been one of the moments that made her feel most regretful that she'd run, hearing that both Cami and Elijah had needed to hide away and she hadn't been there for them.

She almost hated that she'd left, the guilt so prevalent when she thought of her friends suffering alone. Frankie pushed the pain away but it was with a reluctance that she knew would likely allow it to bubble up again later.

"But," Frankie paused again, the ridiculousness of her dress and her plan filling her again as her fingers gripped the gown, "come on, this isn't me. Why don't I just ditch the dress and skate over later, see if he wants to talk with some wine."

"Okay no," Cami said bluntly, "I know you don't like when I shrink you but-"

"Just do it," Frankie groaned, "lemme have it."

Frankie did hate it when Cami was honest with her like that. Most often their relationship consisted of jokes and teasing but the rare moment where Cami was honest she knew Frankie well enough to hit hard and Frankie knew that what she said was true. It was a good thing, she could always count on Cami to tell her the truth, it was just that she didn't always appreciate it.