US AGAINST THE WORLD ▹ KLAUS MIKAELSON

three; midnight stroll

-•-•-

Warmth; all Marley could feel was warmth, as it suffocated her with an unbearable swelter. She felt like she was being smothered, and she thrashed against the tight hold of whoever or whatever was gripping her arms. She attempted to sit up, but it was as if her body was paralyzed; frozen.

Marley tried to force out a scream, but nothing came out. A bitter taste crept into her mouth - a poisonous sweat cocktail. She gagged, and a sickening cough racked her chest.

The woman let out a forceful gasp as she jumped out of her bed, sliding down the side of her mattress. She let her head fall into her sweaty hands as she heaved out a sob that had been building up for weeks upon weeks. A tear made it's way down her reddened cheek. 

"Fuck," she breathed. Marley's first night in New Orleans was proving to be quite eventful thus far.

A sudden droplet of slobber fell onto her leg and her eyes darted toward Porkchop, who had made his way onto the bed. The bulldog whined, turning in one circular motion before wobbling over to her lap.

"Hey, buddy," Marley spoke softly, running a hand along his back. "So much for a fresh start."

Forcing her legs off of the now sweat-covered sheets, Marley walked over to the balcony in the hope of clearing her head. Her first night in the new city wasn't as ideal as she had imagined it would be. The same recurring nightmare cursed her mind, and she had no idea why. What the hell did it mean?

A chilled breeze entered her lungs, quickly snapping her out of her drowsy state. Marley's eyes subconsciously wandered over to the balcony across the street, which belonged to the beautiful compound. Outside of that building is where she ran into the bulky man with the dapper outfit, and his blond brother with the dimples and gorgeous blue eyes. 

Though the compound was dark and seemingly uninhabited when she first passed it, voices - many voices - boomed from within it now. One proved to speak louder than all others, though, whom she heard the others refer to as 'Marcel.' The rowdy bunch were a sharp contrast to the oddly quiet elderly couple she used to live adjacent to in her old apartment.

The woman stayed outside for a few more moments, hoping that maybe Klaus would make an appearance outside, perhaps strolling down the streets at three in the morning - or even Elijah - but they didn't. Regretfully, Marley trotted back inside and stood aimlessly in the middle of her living room. 

"Well, what the fuck do I do now?" she asked aloud. Porkchop softly whined as he laid in front of her feet. 

Deciding that she might as well go for a walk to clear her mind, Marley hastily walked back to her room and threw on a pair of random clothes from her still unpacked suitcase, grabbed her dog's leash, and ran out of the apartment as fast as she could. She didn't even bother to turn off her staticky television.

Marley strolled along the sidewalk, eyeing the neon signs that illuminated the dark streets. It seemed as though a new group of buskers had taken over, different from the daytime performers. She had barely been in New Orleans for twenty-four hours, and yet she was already so captivated by it. It provided a distraction for her whirlwind of a mind - an escape from her ever-consuming nightmares.

She roamed aimlessly around the city, occasionally taking note of the street signs so that she would have an idea of how to get home. Soon enough, Marley found herself wandering around the edge of the city. Apparently, time has different laws when you're sleep deprived. Her eyes drooped, occasionally shutting all together every so often. She could only imagine how severe her eye-bags were. 

Marley's hand grazed over the cold bars of a metal fence, with the occasional poke from a shrub branch. As her eyes rerouted form the ground to the path in front of her, she noticed someone just a ways ahead. It seemed like a lone brunette woman staring down at a styrofoam cup. Marley's eyebrows furrowed. Did people in New Orleans like taking midnight strolls, too? 

As she got closer, she could hear the woman mumble something to herself. "Come on, Hayley. One upset stomach and all of this stupid drama is ancient history."

"Yikes, Porky. Sounds like she's having a rough night," she muttered, squinting her eyes at the faint outline of a slender figure. As she gradually got closer and closer, Marley couldn't help but feel the need to sit down next to her. Maybe she just needed to talk. Everyone needs a moment to vent every once in a while, even to a complete stranger.

"Shitty night, huh?" Marley asked, though sounding more like a statement. 

The woman seemed to snap out of her trance and glanced up at Marley. "You have no idea."

Marley nodded, feeling strangely empathetic. "Yeah, my night hasn't been the best either," she muttered, her eyes drifting down to cracked pavement. The two women sat in silence for a moment - though not the awkward kind. It was comforting, in Marley's opinion. She felt like she wasn't alone. "You're a tea fan? I'm more of a coffee person, myself," she piped up again, breaking the soothing void that had encompassed them.

The brunette woman's lips were in a straight line, like she was debating whether she should share or not. "I guess so," she sighed. "Just one sip and all my problems will be gone." It sounded like she was trying to convince even herself of that statement.

Marley's eyebrows twitched up for a second. "Vodka tea?" she asked, earning a chuckle from the brunette woman. "I didn't take you as the alcoholic type."

"No, my vice is much worse: one night stands with complete psychopaths," she replied, her frame seeming to finally relax. "I'm Hayley, by the way."

Marley smiled - a real, genuine smile. "Marley."

"Hey, I love that movie!" Hayley quipped, and sent a heartier laugh her way. At that moment, Marley knew she had just made a friend. Hopefully they would meet again one day, under better circumstances.

Their conversation continued for a few more moments, and the tea in Hayley's hands lowered to her lap instead of the verge of her lips. As Marley bid a reluctant goodbye, she could've sworn she heard a moment of commotion before the remnants of a gust of wind brushed up against her - but after all, it is New Orleans; when isn't there commotion?

Marley shrugged it off and continued back to her apartment, praying that she could catch more than three hours of sleep this time. And for once, that might just be the case. Keyword, might.

-•-•-

I'm a bad person, I know. I don't even want to talk about it. sorry about how awful this was. it would've been out sooner, but I seem to have acquired a knack for loathing my writing in this book. I just decided to ignore it bc you guys deserve an update :(