She may be the youngest, but she'd be damned if she's the weakest.
Brynn Mikaelson doesn't want much out of life. She spends her days in New Orleans with her best friends and stays out of the way of her older siblings.
But when she gets called to...
A/N : just so y'all know, if you've read the last chapter, I've changed a few details towards the end. I changed the age of Sam - the blonde who answered the door. Instead of her twenties, she's in her teens.
✨"Isn't it sad when you get hurt so much, you can finally say 'I'm used to it'" ✨
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It is true. The man she loved, the man who was to become her husband, is alive. Well, sort of.
"You didn't find me."
"I tried. Believe me, Bray, I did. But it's like you dropped off the face of the earth. I had no idea where you were!"
London. That's where she was. He couldn't find her because she was busy being held against her will by some revenge seeking maniac in a bunker.
"You could've tried harder."
"For all I knew you could've been on another continent?! I did everything I could, hell, I even asked Rebekah. But Bray, I was a new vampire. I craved blood all the time and didn't have access to a daylight ring. You didn't come home and no matter how many times I called, you wouldn't pick up."
Yeah, that's because she threw her phone against the wall when she found out he died.
"I left everything. I couldn't. . . I couldn't live here without you, Drew. I haven't been back to Michigan since. . ."
"Since I died."
She nods, shoving her hands in her pockets. "If only I had stayed a few hours longer. If only I hadn't run . . ."
"You can't beat yourself up over it. You were hurting-"
"I left you. I didn't even bury your body." She never thought she would have to admit that to someone, but the shame she felt while saying it to Drew . . . It is unlike any shame she has ever felt before.
"I'm not mad at you, Bray. I never was."
"I just can't help but think of how different my life would be if I had. . ." If she had what? Decided to stay? Have a funeral for him and explain to his parents and little sister that he was attacked? Maybe compel them to believe he was a victim of a drive by?
This is a situation she never thought she would be in. Her ex fiancée is alive, sitting here next to her on the very same park bench they used to have a picnic on every Saturday afternoon. But this time, they weren't laughing or throwing grapes at each other to see who could catch it in their mouths. There were no corny jokes and tickle fights. There was pain, sadness, regret, and most of all guilt.
In other words, sitting here is nothing like how it used to be.
"Who was that?" Brynn asks before she even realizes what she says. "The blonde who answered the door. . . Who is she?"
Drew sighs, running his hands over his face. Even after ten years, he still has his impeccable charm; he was always a chick magnet. He was tall, around 6'3, and he was hot. Ridiculously hot. He had classes, which always reminded her of Clark Kent in a way. His skin was tan, sporting a few freckles across his nose, leading up to his best feature, his chocolate brown eyes. Then he had his amazing brown hair, which he always styled like he just got out of bed. He looked exactly the same.
