Two Strangers #Book 1 *EDITING TWICE*

26. Sympathetically Apathetic

Davina's POV:

It was pitch black when I sauntered across the street in the French Quarter.

Despite the hustle and bustle of the city during nighttime, this part of the area was rather empty, something unusual considering its loud residents. One thing I had learned about this city was that it never slept.

Once I found Marcel's car, I quietly unlocked it and slipped in the driver's seat, accelerating this feeling of adventure and solo travel. It had been a while I had done this and I couldn't help but feel thrilled.

"So, where are we going, darling?"

At the sound of a second voice in the car with me, a familiar one, I jumped in my seat, terrified of the idea of being in the same car with him, from all people.

"Kol?"

I couldn't believe it. At the moment I saw him there, I couldn't help the anger building up inside me.

I couldn't believe Marcel had told him. No way, he wouldn't do that. Right?

"Oh good, you haven't forgotten about me," he commented, leaning closer to my side, "How could you run away from this city and not tell me about it? Aren't we trip buddies?"

Trip buddies?

Tell him about it?

Why was he acting so carefree about this?

Why was he doing this... to me?

Again, as if nothing had happened, like a few hours ago back to the mansion. Did he care that little about the damage his words had caused? Did he honestly think he could intrude anytime he wanted like this and expect a forgiveness?

"We, aren't anything. So get out of my car now."

He breathed out and I could faintly make out in the dark him shaking his head dismissively. And out of he blue, I felt his fingers on my chin, turning my head to face him in the darkness engulfing the car.

"Are you still mad at me for what I said before?"

I pushed his hand away.

"Don't think so highly of yourself, Kol Mikealson. You're not that important to me."

"Oh, yeah?"

He was still smiling, that manipulative wench.

"In fact, thank you for opening my eyes. You are indeed quite poisonous for my health. So stay away from me."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, love. Not for now, at least. You see, I have made a promise to someone to keep an eye on you while you're taking your vacation."

"Marcel. It was him, wasn't it? He told you."

He shrugged his shoulders. As if he was that innocent.

"So I do remain just a responsibility for you," I scoffed, gripping the wheel with both hands, "Aren't you sick of responsibilities, though? Aren't I just a burden for your carefree lifestyle?"

To my surprise, he didn't answer. He couldn't deny the obvious nor the facts, after all. He has admitted it himself that it was too tiring for him to look after me. Or to even be around me. Too much of a hassle for someone free of concerns.

I felt a hand on my neck, forcing me to turn my head again. And I would push it away again, but this time, he was adding more pressure and I didn't exactly want my neck to be broken, so I looked to my side. I looked at him.