Blood Lust ⚜ Salvatore or Mikaelson?

35. Always and Forever

Klaus brushed his fingers along her hands and to her upper arms, caressing them. "Look at me, love." He spoke softly. 

Delevingne looked into his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

"It's going to be all right." He told her, brushing his nose against hers and placing a kiss on her lips. He pulled away and knelt down, pulling out her bag of belongings and holding it as he stood to his full height. "Bid your farewells, then we leave."

The witch nodded and walked back to her sister, hugging her close. "Sister, stay safe." She said, tears forming in her eyes. 

"I will, Delevingne." Abigail whispered into her abdomen. 

"Remember what we promised?" She asked.

Abigail nodded. "We will meet again in 320 years." 

"Good." Delevingne pulled away from the embrace and nodded at Klaus, who stood by the door. "Farewell, sister." She walked to her lover and took his hand, the two disappearing into the night. 

A/N: There is attempted suicide in this, so please please please if you are triggered by things like that, the part of the coming scene, the action itself, will be separated by ‼️‼️‼️. After the second ‼️‼️‼️, the scene is over.

May 1, 2011 

New Orleans, Louisiana 

Poppy stood in her bedroom at the compound, pacing a bit, the sound of her heels hitting the ground resulting in a satisfying small sound. She wore a long black dress, and her hair was in its natural curls. Tears rolled from her eyes, which was why she didn't put on mascara, and her cheeks and nose were rosy. She held a pen in her shaky hands, deep in thought. 

A note was typical in these circumstances, but she couldn't think of what to write. 

She scoured her mind in search of any fight she had left in her, any reason for her not to follow through with her plan, but she couldn't find any. She was at her lowest point, and darkest hour. 

‼️‼️‼️

With a deep breath she walked over to the record player and set the needle on the disc, beginning to play soft classical music. She then opened one of her drawers and moved aside some of her clothes, revealing a beautiful blade. She sat down on her bed. 

She was alone, tired, depressed, and scared. She wanted to end the pain. 

So, she did the one thing that came to mind. 

Poppy moved backwards on her bed so that she was fully on it, her black dress contrasting against the pale pink. She always loved the color pink. She looked down at her wrist as she held it out in front of her, palm facing up, nearly letting out a sob. With a trembling hand, she drew a line into her wrist, cutting deeply with the blade. Darkly satisfied with the cut, which began to pour out blood, she did the same to the other wrist. 

She closed her eyes, the vampires in the compound would no doubt smell the blood, which is why she took extra measures and lit candles around the room, masking the scent. She laid back on the bed, relaxing as the crimson color began to spread around the bed covers, like watercolor paint on a canvas. 

‼️‼️‼️

As she began to fade out, a feeling of regret arose in her. What would leaving do? Yeah, it would end her pain, but at what reasonable cost? She hadn't been thinking of the impact it would have on her family or friends. More importantly, she was robbing herself of future opportunities-a chance of marrying and starting a family, or even becoming a pack leader. She could have achieved great things. She could help people. She could help find the cure to cancer if she so wished. But, all of that was thrown away the moment she gave up.