𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ━━ HOPE MIKAELSON.

19

JAXON FOUND HIMSELF climbing to his room at the school, entering it through the window. He had been wandering around the whole night. It was four in the morning when he was taking a shower.

He slid on a pair of grey sweatpants and a grey shirt before climbing on his bed, not in the mood to sleep. He only lied down and stared at the ceiling, that specific memory playing in his mind again and again.

He sighed and closed his eyes. He blamed himself for his mother's death—of course he did because he was the one who killed her. He hated himself for that. She died in her wolf form, he didn't even get to hear her voice or see her blue eyes one last time.

He groaned, feeling the familiar rush of guilt and anger running through his body, sending him a rush of adrenaline. Getting up from his bed, he opened the beside drawer and took out a small vile of potion. It was to stop his healing momentarily— to allow him to feel pain for more than three seconds. He had a witch— Penelope make that for him—although she was reluctant to, she did it.

Without thinking twice, he gulped down the entire content. He stood up and walked towards the door before walking out, heading to the gym. It was four am, nobody was going to be there at that time. He needed to let it all out.

Entering the gym, he walked over to the punching bag. Taking a deep breath, he began punching— hard and with anger. His knuckles were bruising and he was feeling the pain. It was not going away thanks to the potion and he was happy. He continued hitting the bag, punch after punch, he didn't stop. His knuckles were bleeding at that point.

Hope's face flashed in front of him making him grunt as he landed another punch at the bag, breaking it, sending it flying away, breaking from it's hinges. The bag fell on the ground, sand pouring out of it. Scoffing, he grabbed another bag and attached it before starting his assault on that one as well.

Before he knew it, ten destroyed punching bags were scattered all around the gym. He was the reason why Alaric had to refill the punching bags every week.

"Who pissed you off?" A familiar voice asked making Jaxon momentarily pause in his punches but said nothing as he continued. Penelope sighed, making her way towards him, her eyes looking at all the broken bags, "damn—" she cut herself off, daring enough to grab his hand as he was about to land another punch.

Jaxon paused and said nothing and only watched as Penelope brought his hand in front of her face, huffing when she noticed his knuckles, "I regret making that potion for you."

"I'm busy here," He shook his hand off her hold, "what do you want?"

"Nothing. I just woke up and heard noises so I bet a bet with myself that it was you and turns out I was right—" she shrugged, "wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." He waved her off, resuming his torture on the bag in front of him. Penelope decided to talk, "did anything happen yesterday? I haven't seen you all day. Where have you been? Last I checked you went with Hope, Rafael and Doctor Saltzman but they returned, you didn't. Obviously, either one of them did something. Now I'm guessing that it's Hope because you don't give a damn about Rafael so you wouldn't care if he said or did anything— and Doctor Saltzman... Well you like him too much to be mad at him. That leaves us Hope. What did she do?"

On bringing back that subject again, Jaxon threw another punch at the bag, sending it flying again. Penelope let out a loud sigh, "so it's Hope."

"Grab me another bag, will you?" He asked to which she shook her head, "yeah, no that's enough plus I don't think we have another one. And you, my dear, need a shower. Go to your room, take a shower then you and I are going to have a serious talk."

"Yeah," he scoffed, "no, I don't think so. Be a dear and tell Ric that I'm skipping classes today. Thanks." Without giving her the chance to say anything, he walked out of the gym.