sweet ophelia ⚜️ klaus mikaelson | COMPLETED

15

n// i know this isnt a gif but hot damn she is such a goddess and that dress is wOWWW on her omg i love leigh anne so much its not even funny ((also sorry that this chapter is so short but it's pretty important if i do say so myself))

"I look ridiculous," I sighed, pulling down at the hem of my dress lightly. "And Elijah is going to kill me."

Which was true. This dress was not a ballgown in the slightest, exposing a lot of cleavage and stopping around mid-thigh. But hey, at least it was green. I had also taken the extra step of going all out with my make-up and hair, straightening it and using my ever so handy magic to add a bit of length to it, even though I did love my natural curls. I still think it looks amazing, nonetheless.

Grabbing my clutch and invitation that Elijah had graciously given me, I stepped out of my apartment and head out to the streets, head held high and heels clicking with every step. What can I say? I may not have been looking classy, but I sure looked good.

Arriving at the destination, I walked up to the doorway and handed the guard-like person my invitation. Since I was fashionably late, the doors were closed, making me smirk. As the guard man reached to open them, I stopped him, flashing a dazzling smile.

"No thank you, sir," I said. "I prefer to make my own entrances."

And with that, I blew lightly on the doors, slamming them open as Elijah was making a speech. All eyes turned on me, and I smirked. Just how I liked it.

"-Thank you for coming, and goodnight." Elijah finished with haste upon my arrival, snapping everyone out of it enough to clap.

I smirked at the Original and grabbed a flute of champagne from a nearby stunned (and most likely compelled) waiter, thanking him and taking a sip.

"Nice to finally put a name to a face," Elijah said, approaching me with a tiny - almost invisible - smirk. "Mikaelson. Elijah Mikaelson."

I smiled as he kissed the back of my hand, playing along.

"Pleasure," I smiled. "Ophelia Armstrong."

"Well, then," Elijah winked. "May I have this dance, Ophelia?"

"I thought you'd never ask, Shakespeare."

We walked out onto the dance floor as the string quartet played their beautiful music, beginning a slow dance.

"You look dapper," I complimented, taking in his appearance. "Black is a nice colour on you."

"As do you, Ophelia," he smiled in return, drinking my sparkly green number. "Not what I expected, but beautiful, nonetheless."

I laughed as we danced together, enjoying our one moment of serenity. That is, until he ruined it.

"How are your dreams?" He asked in a curious whisper. "Have you had anymore?"

I sighed and nodded as he turned me slowly.

"What are they about? If you don't mind my inquiries, that is."

"They're about a man and I," I spoke simply. "Well, at least I think it's me."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's my point of view, and it's me speaking and acting, but at the same time it isn't. Like someone else's words are coming out of my mouth."

Elijah creased his brow at my words, tilting his head slightly. I could already see the cogs in his head spinning as he tried to piece the mystery together.

"All I know is that whom ever this man is, I am really into him."

"Oh?"

I nodded and danced in silence while Elijah did the same, just enjoying the moment of serenity we had with one another as good friends, relishing in the music that I recognized as Mozart until he asked yet another question.

"Have you any idea who this man is?"

"If I did, Shakespeare, you would definitely be the first to know."

"And your plots to take back the witches of New Orleans?"

"Eh, still warming up to the ideals of witch-y imperialism, but I like to think that they're warming up to me."

"...They despise you, don't they?"

I laughed and leaned into Elijah slightly, nodding through my laughter, causing him to laugh as well.

"They all think I am absolutely mad for wanting to protect you and your family." I said a little breathlessly, still smiling.

"And mad you are, Ophelia." He responded with an equally as enthusiastic smile.

"Well, the best of us are."

It was silent between us for another short minute, seeming to have drawn the attention of basically everyone in the vicinity with our playful banter to accompany the serious atmosphere of the ball. I suppose these poor souls had no idea what a happy and smiling Elijah Mikaelson looked like until this moment. Clearing my throat slightly I straightened my posture as Elijah did the same, silently reminding each other that we have roles to uphold, even if we desperately wanted to forget them for the night and simply get as wasted as possible and enjoy this fantastically boring evening.

"So where's the rest of the family?" I asked curiously.

"You would want to know," he chuckled quietly. "Rebekah is away -- something about Paris and some man named Jacques. Finn and Kol, are, well, in a coffin, and Niklaus... Well, look up."

Confused, I averted my eyes toward the high ceiling and caught sight of the one and only Niklaus Mikaelson, making my breath hitch in my throat.

He was the man who plagued my inner subconscious and dreams stood directly in above me, looking me dead in the eye of which the same manner I was looking at him. Frightened, scared, confused, and even a little bit hurt.

"Elijah...?" I mumbled uneasily, still looking up at the man. "You know how I just said that if I found out who the man in my dreams was you'd be the first to know?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because I'm at least 97.2% sure that I just found him."