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After five weeks, everything was... simple. Mariposa was becoming less and less awkward, as well as less talkative by the day. She was comforted by those around her, but once they were gone, she would retreat into her little hole in her mind and think. She was slowly succumbing to a foul process.
Elijah approached her on one of those days when she was lost in her thoughts. She crossed her arms and stared out the bedroom window, still in her pajamas. "You're eating less," Elijah stated with distaste.
"I ate a lot last night," Mariposa shrugged.
"You did, indeed. But how can you argue with me when I tell you you puked it all up afterward?"
Mariposa creased her brow slightly. Refusing to look him in the eyes. "It didn't sit right with me." She said this while crossing her arms obstinately.
"Ah. And I'm guessing you didn't like the food the other nights, either? You threw them up in 'hiding'." He began to feel an odd feeling growing inside him after she did not respond to his very true statement. He'd felt a tinge of frustration and anger before, but this was different.
He grabbed her hands and forced her to look at him before he realized what he was doing.
"You can't keep doing this, Mariposa." He said in a stern tone that jolted Mariposa out of her stupor. "If you do, you will become very ill, if you aren't already, and you may die as a result. What do you think- "He shut his eyes. "Do you realize how disheartening that would be for my siblings, myself, and so many others?"
Mariposa had never heard anyone, other than her family, say so many words to her in a single session. Her eyes were wide open as a result of the shock. They then began to fill with tears gradually.
Mariposa couldn't help but smile as Elijah's eyes softened. She had kept her distance from the Mikaelsons over the last few weeks, saying little to no one. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sobbed into his crook.
"I'm not sure... I'm not sure what's wrong with me." Unfortunately, most of her words were muffled. "They say you get better as you go along, but... I only feel like I'm getting worse."
Elijah watched as she wrapped her arms even tighter around his neck and realized, as strange as it may sound to him, she needed comforting. He wrapped his arms around her waist slowly and hesitantly, allowing her to sob into his chest and neck for nearly ten minutes.
During those minutes, Elijah had led her to her bed and allowed her to cry while lying down rather than standing. He sat with his legs out, his back against the headboard, and Mariposa curled up next to him, her head resting on his chest and his arms tightly wrapped around her.
Mariposa stopped sniffing after an hour of him fiddling with a piece of her hair. Elijah realized the only reason it had stopped was that she had dozed off with her arms tightly wrapped around him.
He looked down at her, and the strange sensation crept up his spine once more. He ignored it and continued to watch her sleep. It was a nonviolent gesture.
She was fascinating. Because of the hair on her face, her nose scrunched up every few minutes, and her legs wouldn't stop moving. She kept whining after the first thirty minutes, and Elijah loosened his grip a little and let her position herself before resuming his grip and letting her sleep for the rest of the night like that.
Elijah couldn't help but feel a little protective of her. And the more he considered it, the more he realized... She was the only person he cared about other than his family.
He cared about all humans, and considered it a privilege to be among them, but if the world was destroyed and he could only save one person... It would be her. Surprisingly, he didn't question his gut instinct.
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Mariposa stood in the Mikaelson family's living room. She was pacing around, her hand running through her hair. The witch tried to drown out Mikaelson's voices, but they persisted in their efforts to persuade.
"So, what now? You want me to stay here indefinitely?"
"Yes," Kol simply says, and Mariposa stares at the vampire in disbelief.
"Guys, I'm not staying here. I know where I belong."
"Why?" Klaus inquired as to whether their proposal was normal. "We have plenty of rooms," Mariposa scoffs, shaking her head.
"I don't want to be an add-on," the witch explains, "just because I've lost my family," she finally sits down, dizzy from her walking back and forth. Mariposa completed her task.
She observed Mikaelson's bewilderment "We're not doing it out of sympathy. My brothers and I would like to have you here." Rebekah spoke up.
"I don't believe that," She argued trying to get her point across, "You'll become bored and tired of me being in your presence and next thing I know I'll be on my own again."
"We wouldn't tire of you."
"Look, I just don't want to ruin whatever we have by moving too fast," she says as the Mikaelsons remain silent.
Elijah stands up and sprints toward her, making the vampire almost invisible, to the point where he appears to be a blur.
The older gently gripped Mariposa's chin, he leaned down so he can be face to face with her, "We won't ever get tired of you, Elskan." He whispered affectionally, rubbing his thumb against her cheek.
"I'm not sure. What if I become overly reliant and lose all of my morals?"
"Doll, we'll try not to hover so much, so you have some independence," Rebekah reassured the red witch.
Klaus sneers, "You must speak for yourself." he muttered, drawing a sharp look from his siblings. "I'll try, but no promises,"
Mariposa sighed and looked down at her hands as her leg bounced, "I-," she stated ". "I accept your proposal," she stuttered as she stumbled over her words.
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Silence surrounded her as she lay on the floor of her room, her gaze lazily glinting at the ceiling above her.
The once-decorated room had been stripped bare, and all around her were suitcases and packed boxes containing many of her belongings. Mariposa had packed almost everything she owned, well nearly everything; there were still a few items scattered around her room that needed to be packed.
Mariposa sat up, placed another load of clothes on the bed next to one of the suitcases, and began folding the clothes neatly before placing them in the half-full suitcase.
She walked out of her room into the living room, picking up an empty box. Mariposa sighs sadly to herself as she collects a few photos. Each photograph she takes has a similar feature, all of which was once one of her greatest joys.
She cringes as she runs her hand through her hair; he still hasn't gotten used to this new sensation, and she doubts he ever will. Mariposa takes another look around the room, her eyes brimming with conflicting emotions.
'Am I okay with all of this?' She thinks to herself, the witch shakes her head and continues packing.
She pauses in the middle of putting away one of her favorite photos, one of her family before bad things happened. His finger brushes across her family's faces, across her own, and it lingers on the face of someone smiling right beside her.
Mariposa takes a shaky breath as she tells you not to look at the old photo. The longer she stares at the old family photo, the blurrier her vision becomes. She watches as tears fall on the glass; the witch tries to blink them away, but they continue to fall.
She slid down the wall, the picture clutched to her chest. Mariposa tried to stop the sob from coming out of her mouth, but the harder she tried, the more her lips wobbled.
Mariposa's entire body felt warm as she stared up at the ceiling. She rubs her eyes until they burn, then looks around the room to see that everything is floating.
Kol stood at the front door, wide-eyed, and quickly approached her, "Darling, what's wrong?" He said this while cradling her as she sobbed.
"I-I'm just so tired of feeling this way," Mariposa sobbed, "I don't want to feel anything, I'm tired of crying and overthinking."
"I can help you with that," he replied softly into her hair. "If you want, I can make you forget about your family." Kol went on rocking her back and forth.
Mariposa shook her head, "I don't want to forget," she said, struggling to find the right words, "I just don't want to feel anything at all."
"Are you sure?" Kol asked the crying witch. He asked, waiting for her response, and she nodded, "Fine, I'll help you."
He puts his hand under her chin, his pupils dilated, and says, "Turn it off."
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For story purposes, pretend witches can turn off their humanity.