❝ fangs club! ❞
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
"IT'S BEAUTIFUL, ISN'T IT?"
"What is that doing here, Klaus?" Bonnie backed awayㅡfrom both the Original Hybrid's corpse and his soul. She gulped, chest nearly caving at the sight of someone so close to her be possessed by such a ruthless creature. "The deal we made with Tyler was that you'd leave his body and jump into someone else's the first chance you got."
He had the audacity to look amused. The Hybrid tucked his hands (or, rather, Tyler's hands) in the pockets of his jacket, circling around the Bennet like a wolf on the hunt. "Yesㅡwhen I assumed I'd be a pile of ash. But apparently fate and oxygen intervened and there I am. Please, put me back."
The Bennet witch huffed, though she was secretly nervous that she would meet death at his hands, in a place where no one would hear her cries. She had magic, sure, but he could be so unpredictable. "I can't right now."
"This body is too vulnerable."
"I have to help Elena before she has to feed," she tried to reason.
"Elena's dead," Tyler/Klaus raised an eyebrow, utterly unbothered, leaning against the rocky walls of the underground cave. "And no longer my concern."
"If I can keep Elena human, you'll still have an endless blood supply to make your hybrids. Isn't that what you really want?"
His hands itched to strangle this stubborn girl. Klaus didn't even care about his hybrids at this point, he wanted nothing more than to get back into his own body and check on Rosalie without being mistaken as some moody teen. The Monet looked so exhausted last night, did she get enough sleep? Did she feel better, or worse? A thousand questions ran through his head, but this tiny headache of a witchㅡthis bloody Bennetㅡwas Rosalie's friend. He didn't want to cause the brunette any pain, regardless of how indirect it was. With that, he exhaled, "Do whatever the hell you want. Just put me back, and don't tell anyone about this."
And the hybrid who was so notorious for his harsh threats left, leaving the Bennet witch nothing short of confused.
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
Rosalie smiled at the sight of her mother, eyes twinkling for the first time in days. From her position on the hospital bed, the brunette gazed at the doctor who was stood by the door frame, covering her mouth, her own eyes clouding upon seeing her daughter in such a state. The blonde finally entered the room, closing the door behind her.
If the eldest Monet knew anything about her mother, it was that she was usually composed because of her job. She was softhearted, and was one of the kindest people Rosalie knew, but she kept a straight face and a compassionate front when she was in the hospital treating strangers. But this brunette was not a stranger. Which was why Rosalie frowned when the matriarch stood beside her bed, "Mom, please don't crㅡ"
But Mrs Monet was already sobbing, dropping her clipboard on the bedside table, right next to Rosalie's tulip vase (which was one of the only things she thought about when she was conscious). The blonde threw her arms around her daughter's shoulders, her white lab coat drapping over the brunette.
"Oofㅡ" Rosalie huffed, barely breathing under all the golden curls shoved at her face as her mother bawled in her neck. "Mom, seriously, I'm fineㅡ"
She wept louder at that, arms tightening.
Rosalie laughed, patting her back as she let the doctor cry. The brunette did her best to comfort her, even if it cut off her oxygen supply for a few seconds. "I'm okay. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, okay?"
Mrs Monet pulled back, her beautiful face tear stained. Growing up, Rosalie always thought her mother was a goddess. Even with those long, tiring shifts at the hospital, even after missing so many hours of sleeping, she was always beautiful. And kind, and caring and sweet, and was everything the brunette wanted to be.
"I could have prevented it, I should haveㅡ"
"Mom," Rosalie reprimanded. "It's not your fault. It was an accidentㅡit was no one's fault."
It was silent for a few moments, save for the soft whimpers of a brokenhearted Mrs Monet. Rosalie let her cry, rubbing her back as she whispered soothing words of comfort. The blonde kissed her cheeks over and over, mumbling, "Oh, Rosalie, my sweet girl."
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
The last thing she remembered was assuring her mom before she fell asleep. They'd talked about her condition after the doctor felt better, and the brunette was horrified at the fact that she had to stay for no less than a week in the hospital. Her mother scolded her when she protested, saying that it was a miracle the accident didn't damage her body as much as it would've in most cases.
Rosalie blinked blearily at the figure sitting by her bed. Frowning, she tried to make out who it was, her vision still blurry. The brunette could recall ingesting pills, as prescribed by her mother, and sedatives for the pain, so she was feeling quite drowsy.
"Elena?" she croaked weakly, voice still heavy with sleep.
The Gilbert moved closer, and she could see her features more clearlyㅡguilty. Rosalie scrunched her eyebrows, watching as the brunette talked, though she couldn't hear what she was saying, just distant mumbles. Her mouth was opening and closing, then she was wiping tears away from her cheeks. The Monet tried to read her lips, feeling a pair of warm palms encasing her hand. She couldn't tell how long she watched her friend crumble before her, for what reason, she could not fathom.
Rosalie looked around the hospital room, and felt everything spin out of focus, so she glanced back at Elena, who had a strange look in her eyes. The Gilbert was staring intensely at her neck, making her wonder if she had hallucinated her friend entirely.
Elena gulped, moving closer to Rosalie. The Monet frowned confusedly as the brunette gazed at her, almost hungrily. She felt her hot breath on her neckㅡ
Then, without so much as a warning, Elena disappeared from her line of sight.
Rosalie closed her eyes, allowing herself to be dragged down the dark abyss of sleep once again.
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
His hands closed around her throat, pinning her to the wall. It was, fortunately, after hours and no one lurked in the hallways. The tips of her toes didn't even touch the floor as the Hybrid held her in a death grip, nearly crushing her windpipe. Elena clawed at his hand, though the scratches didn't even faze him. She gasped, desperate for a breath of air.
"You're a persistent one, aren't you?"
His voice was calmㅡso deathly quiet that it didn't reverberate through the long corridor. Although this was the case, his eyes, which were already darkened at the thought of slaughtering her everytime they met unexpectedly, held the promise of a slow and painful death. It was the complete opposite of how serene his tone was.
"Klaus," someone murmured, gently, when the Original tightened his grip. "Let her go."
He didn't budge, watching the Gilbert gasp helplessly. He wanted to murder her, his blood was practically boiling with the need to harm her the way she harmed his beloved. Thoughts of torturing her made his veins hum, and Klaus saw red.
"Klaus," the voice was firm, Elena tried to see who it was, and failed. "Stop it."
But he didn't listen. The Original Hybrid snarled, baring his teeth, never removing his intense gaze from the Gilbert. He was murderous, every single part of him screamed darkness and death and suffering.
"Drop her, Klaus! You're better than this. Think about Rosalie!"
He closed in on Elena's face, tilting it to the side. It took every bit of self control to stop his claws from growing. Then, in that same disturbing tone, Klaus growled. "Touch her, and you'll see why they call me the Great Evil."
Klaus stepped back, shoving Elena away with such distaste. She fell to the floor, palming at her throat as she regained the ability to breathe. The Original looked at the side, noticing a group of people gaping at them. He didn't bothered to identify all of them by their name, but he knew they were all a part of the exclusive Mystic Falls supernatural circle.
"What the hell happened?" a distressed Alaska Monet pushed through her friends, her brother Jacob following closely behind. She had a frightening look in her gaze, bordering on homicidal and insane at the same time.
"Ask your so called friends," the Hybrid laughed bitterly, a sound so thunderous that it made everyone, even the young Monet who had nerves of steel, flinch.
Klaus stormed back in Rosalie's room, nearly crushing the doorknob in his grip; but he didn't make a sound, careful not to disturb the silence as he left the door open. A short woman, with hair as dark as night, and bright eyes, trailed after him.
How someone of her build could snap the Original Hybrid out of his murderous state was a mystery to them.
Jacob Monet, seeming to understand a telepathic message from his blonde sister, followed en suite, gently shutting the door behind him. After years of living with the blonde Monet, he knew better than to say anything unnecessary when she was furious.
So he left, silently, leaving them to deal with Alaska's wrath.
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
The brunet squinted at the dark-haired girl, nothing but suspicion in his gaze. Jacob had an arm draped over his unconscious sister's knees, protectively, as he tried to figure out what she was doing.
Klaus had a blank expression on his face, gazing at Rosalie's sleeping form. She looked calm, at least, he sighed. His skin thrummed with the need to move closer to her, even just to hold her hand, which he knew would feel coldㅡa given in her recent stateㅡagainst his own. But, out of respect for her brother, who was feeling (and looking) edgy, he remained in the plastic chair at the other end of the room.
Jacob had had enough. "What the fuck is she doing?"
The said girl didn't so much as cringe at the sound of his voice, merely continuing her quiet murmurs. Her eyes were closed, and her chanting voice sounded like honey. Jacob frowned at her, creeped out at the sight of her standing so still near the original, hands outstretched.
"Protection spell." Klaus said, his tone bored. The Original Hybrid stood up, turning off the main light switch and the room was plunged in darkness. Before Jacob could protest, light glowed from the bathroom, which was actually better for the dozing brunette.
"A protection spell? On the room?"
"On Rosalie," he corrected, tucking his hands in the pockets of his hoodie in hopes of stopping the thoughts of holding Rosalie. Klaus returned to his seat, then leaned his head back against the wall, eyes closed.
Now that the Monet looked closer, the Hybrid was the polar opposite of how he behaved at the hallway. One minute he was snarling and growling like the villain everyone had known him as, then he was the picture of ease in black sweatpants the next. He was even wearing a hoodieㅡthe proclaimed Evil Hybrid was wearing a hoodie. Like he had planned a tranquil evening with warm hugs and messy hair. Jacob tried not to be disturbed at the thought of him being anywhere near his sister.
"I still don't trust you."
"You're smart not to," Klaus hummed, amused, eyelids still fluttered shut. "But I'd never hurt her."
Jacob knew he wasn't talking about Elena Gilbert. Now, that was evil. How could she even think of harming his sister, when she was practically the one who put Rosalie in the hospital in the first place? Thinking back, the youngest Monet couldn't see where everything went wrong in the first place. Was it a vampire newbie thing? Killing a friend in cold blood?
He shuddered at the thought of finding Rosalie if Klaus hadn't stepped in...
"I thought you were supposed to be the big, bad, bloodthirsty Hybrid?"
"I am the big, bad, bloodthirsty Hybrid." His voice was harsh, yet quiet. "I don't mind being the villain to the rest of you."
No one spoke for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft murmurs of Klaus's raven-haired friend. Jacob crawled on the bed, tucking himself beside the brunette. Rosalie was either too thin, or the bed was too big. The brunet forced himself to believe it was the latter, wrapping an arm around her waist in a cuddle. He buried her face in her neck, actions gentle, hoping that his body heat would warm her through the sheets.
"Thank you." The youngest Monet cleared his throat, eyes closing. "For saving my sister."
"I didn't do it for you." Klaus's tone held the same quiet coldness to it.
"I know," Jacob muttered, his heart rate slowing down as he neared the welcoming arms of sleep. "But I'm still thankful for your kindness."
Klaus finally opened his eyes, frowning at the lanky teen curled defensively around one side of Rosalie's body. Someone expressed thankfulness because of his actions. And he was completely lost on how to feel about the warmth that bloomed in his chest upon hearing the word 'kindness' being associated with him.
The Original looked at his companion, who was already staring at him as though she'd sensed his moral dilemma. She smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.
He rolled his eyes.
The dark-haired girl snickered before concentrating on the protection spell again, muttering silent Latin phrases.
His gaze returned to the sleeping brunette. Klaus sensed that she was a bit healthier, and he could've collapsed with relief at the observation. Rosalie looked peaceful, so blissfully unaware of the chaos that had ensued earlier, another thing he was grateful for. She could've diedㅡagain. And it would have been permanent this time.
The idea that she could've been removed from the mortal world forever...
Klaus sucked in a breath, chest aching like someone had shoved a stake through his heart. Then he was standing, walking towards the slumbering brunette before he could stop himself.
Still in that same shade of gold, the intricate necklace gleamed against the milky skin of her neck, and between her collarbones, lay the sun pendantㅡa symbol of her effervescence.
His eyes softened at the fact that she wore the necklace. Klaus knelt down, knees touching the cold floor. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. The Original placed an arm, palm facing down, beside her thigh, careful not to disturb either Monet. Tentatively, he touched the back of her her hand.
Cold. So, so cold. Her skin was frigid, and smooth, and everything he needed. Klaus looked at her with such wonder, with such reverence that it made his companion (now done with her incantation) feel like she was intruding on a private moment.
It started off as soothing strokes, in hopes of transferring some semblance of heat. Then, his palm was enveloping her hand, small in his grasp. Klaus didn't know how long he knelt there, the strain on his knees felt so trivial compared to the longing in his chest.
He wanted to take her away from all the bullshit in the wretched town, to hide her from the horrors of the world. Maybe he'd take her to Italy, where they could see Venice in a Gondola, eat pasta all day long, and watch an opera. Or maybe he'd grace France with her presence, where they could spend lazy afternoons bathing in the sun, tasting expensive wine, and visit museums. Indonesia didn't seem so bad, snorkeling in deep blue waters, eating exotic food, and visiting tropical animals sounded like paradise with Rosalie.
Anywhere sounded like paradise with her.
His mind hummed with the possibilitiesㅡhe did, after all, promise to show her the world. She deserved to relax, to discover great places and taste amazing food. She deserved everything good the world had to offer.
Klaus wanted to ask her out, then he'd be nervous for their first date, and he would've spent the day before preparing everything with Rebekah's help. Even though he knew very well that fancy restaurants weren't her thing, a cozy movie night would've been more than enough to make his heart thrum. He wanted to experience the nerve-wracking process of earning her father's approval all over again, not because it was an old tradition, but because he knew how important he was to her. He wanted the whole human experience with her, to be normal.
But he couldn't just take her.
And he wasn't human.
She was her own person, and she could make her own decisions; but that didn't mean Klaus would stop protecting her from her troublesome friends.
He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the back of her palm as he whispered. "Everything's going to be okay, love."
❝ be kind. ❞
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