·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
"I'm about to murder Dr Smalldickㅡ"
Kol paced back and forth, hands on his hips. The groupㅡRosalie, Nik, and Rebekahㅡwent back to the Mikaelsons' mansion, where Kol was left to watch over Willow. There had been an unspoken agreement between Rosalie and the Mikaelsons that there would always be someone watching over the girl. It made Rosalie think about Camille's words, about how Willow was becoming an adopted daughter to her; but that was another thought for another day.
For now, the Monet would have to deal with another trauma (the fire at the clinic) and a gathering of Original vampires.
"It's Chadwick, Kol." Rebekah rolled her eyes. The blonde was sat beside Rosalie on one of the more spacious couches in the lounge room. The pair both looked tired, weary and worn down from stress. Though they had changed their clothes (Rebekah lending Rosalie a loose blouse and what she called trousers), the soot from their former outfits haunted them.
"Who cares what his name is?" Kol barely paused from his antics. "He's still about to die very, very slowly and painfully."
"Can you stop talking about murder for a minute? You're killing my mood." Persephone glared at him, an emotion contrasted by her languid position on the antique settee.
"No." The Mikaelson deadpanned, "I cannot."
"Stop bickering, " Elijah silenced them, followed by a quick survey of the room. "Where's Willow?"
"Sleeping upstairs." Kol replied.
"Alright. Let's get down to business." Suddenly, Elijah's attention turned to the Monet, "There was an attack on the night of the festival."
"What?" Rosalie was startled by the news. It had been such a frustrating, but peaceful night for her that it came as a surprise something violent had taken place.
"It happened just after you leftㅡ"
"Thank God!" Kol exclaimed, dramatically falling on the couch, in the space between Rebekah and Rosalie. "Do you know how difficult it is to get blood off clothing? I wouldn't know either, I have servants to do my laundry."
"I've been trying to establish peace with the humans," Elijah continued, acting as though Kol had never spoken at all. "But their leader might be a problem. She knew there would be many vampires in attendance, and yet she dared to pull a stunt."
"I've told you countless times that she's far too suspicious." Klaus reasoned, knowing from the very beginning that there was something suspicious about Francesca Guerrera.
"Marcel should stick to his side of the agreement, which, speaking of, where is he?" Rebekah asked, frowning. "He's partially responsible for this mess."
Rosalie zoned out of the conversation, watching Nik standing over the makeshift alcohol bar. It was nothing fancy, just a small mahogany table topped with an assortment of crystal bottles containing different colored liquids. What caught her eye, however, was the way he rolled up the sleeves. He folded the black long sleeve up to his elbows, revealing the bluish veins under his defined forearms. Once he was done, the blond poured clear liquid into a glass. Rosalie's mind flickered back to when those arms were wrapped around her, making a blush trail up her neck. Her gaze trailed up to his face, which held a look of concentration.
It was criminal how someone could look so attractive.
He's more than a thousand years old, half werewolf, half vampire, probably killed thousands of peopleㅡhe's deadly, he's cruel and manipulative, he's a liar. Niklaus Mikaelson was the villain.
xi. sensual politics
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