All I Ever Needed (Klaus Mikaelson Fanfiction) DISCONTINUED

Chapter 28 - Is it Too Late?

The green and brown of the trees and leaves blur past me as I'm sprinting as fast as I can to the cottage I used to call home. I finally see it in the distance and I use the rest of my strength to push myself and get there. The house is still it's usual faded brown, the windows were still a little scratched up and misted with the crisp morning fog. Everything is still the way it was seven hundred years ago.

I skip towards the front door and hesitantly place my hand on the freezing doorknob. Twisting it, I gently push open the door and walk into the empty house. As soon as my black heeled boots touch the wooden floor beneath me, the front door slams shut causing me to jump ten feet in the air.

"Hello?" I call out. "Is anyone home?" I wait for a response, but it never comes. I walk towards the chestnut dining table in the middle of the room and find a pencil drawn family portrait. I pulled out a chair and sat down in a huff. Alice drew this, I remember. She always had a talent for the arts and she simply insisted to draw us. 

The thin piece of paper was tight in between my fingertips. We all look so happy. My mother sat on the moss covered rock while my father stood behind her, an arm draped over her shoulders. They both had bright smiles on their faces along with the rest of us. I sat on the ground, leaned up on my mother leg. Alice was beside me, her head on my shoulder, eyes closed and a gentle smile on her lips. Adrian was left of her, sitting with his elbows resting on his raised knees. That charming sideways smirk he always had, was on his face. We actually posed for this. We were placed exactly like this while Alice got an idea of how she was going to draw us. She managed to draw herself in, using her imagination even if she wasn't in the pose with us. A wave of nostalgia hit me, tears spring in my eyes but I refuse to let them fall. It was all so easy back then, so effortless. The only challenge I faced was if I picked enough berries, or if I finished dusting off the floor like my mother had asked me to. Now, it's all so hard. I can never get a break because my happiness gets ruined by someones hatred and rage.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" A voice suddenly asks and I jump up from my chair at an alarming speed. There stands Adrian with a serious but somewhat saddened expression.

"Alice had always had such a talent in the arts," I calmly respond. I wasn't intimidated by him, I should never be anyway. He's my brother, whether he likes it or not.

"Sit, please," he gestures towards my chair and I sit down without a question. He pulls out the chair in front of me and sits down. He exhales deeply and picks up the drawing. "If only we could go back."

"Well, if that wicked witch of the west hadn't come into the picture, we would have lived our life the way we should have."

"You have a point," he sighs. We sit in silence for a couple minutes while he was examining the drawing. I was watching him, observing him more so like. He was being odd, not threatening my life. He was just Adrian, my older protective brother.

"Why do you hate me?" I blurt out. 

"I don't hate you," he softly chuckles. Okay, sociopath.

"Then why have you been trying to kill me," I whisper in sadness.

"Anna, don't you get it," he looks up at me. "It's all a show, I had the chance to kill you plenty of times, but I don't allow it. I know Alice visited you that night I 'kidnapped' you," he air quotes with his fingers. It doesn't make sense to me. What does he mean by he could have killed me?