"𝒾𝒸ℯ, 𝒾𝒸ℯ 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎"
The heavy slam of a textbook down onto a desk causes majority of the class to flinch, their attention now solely focused on the man at the front. "The stock market is based on two principles. What are they?"
Ophelia grins as she watches Coach eye each of his students with his usual attitude. It's obvious he doesn't want to be here. Or he just hates everyone enough so that he doesn't want to be here, specifically Greenberg. It took only the first day at the high school for Ophelia to quickly declare that Coach Bobby Finstock had become her favourite teacher. The reason is highly likely because of the way he loves to antagonise, and throw blunt, disdainful comments at his students. In a way, he reminds her of herself.
As Scott's hand raises, Coach briefly glances to him and waves his hand in dismissal, jumping to conclude that the boy couldn't possibly know the answer. "Yes, McCall, you can go to the bathroom. Anybody else?"
The teenage werewolf ignores Ophelia's quiet giggles from next to him, not allowing his confident demeanour to falter. "Uh, no, Coach. I know the answer."
Hearing Coach break into hysterical laughter over Scott's assumed practical joke might be one of the best sights Ophelia has seen all damn year. The man wheezes for a few more seconds, before the laughter abruptly stops and the smile drops upon seeing how Scott's expression hasn't changed. "Oh, you're serious."
"Yes," Scott answers, missing the look his two friends on the other side of him share with each other. "Risk and reward."
"Oh, shit," Ophelia whispers to herself. "Bark-a-lot got smart."
"Wow!" Coach exclaims in surprise, taking a few steps forward to get closer to the boy. "Who are you? And what have you done to McCall? No, don't answer that! I like you better! I like you better..."
"I don't know, I kinda liked the whole 'dumb puppy' thing he had going," Ophelia mutters as she leans over to Stiles. The Stilinski stifles his laughter as he slaps his hand over his mouth, the pair ignoring the large scowl that has replaced the smile on Scott's face.
"Does anybody have a quarter?"
Stiles nods at Coach's question and goes to take out the coin from his pocket. "A quarter? Yep-"
The next thing Ophelia hears is something hitting the ground, but, it isn't the expected clink of metal. The sound draws her eyes onto the floor just beside Stiles' desk, and they widen at what is found. With no shame, the hybrid lets out a loud burst of laughter, tears springing to her eyes at how the boy in question snaps his head over to her with a look that could evaporate her very body into thin air.
With his eyebrows raised, Coach keeps a straight face as he walks over to pick up the 'XXL' condom below Stiles' feet. "Stilinski, I think you, uh... you dropped this." A sly, salacious smirk appears on his face as he hands the item back to the incredibly uncomfortable teenager who is determined to avoid eye contact. "And congratulations," Coach mutters suggestively.
When the man turns around to walk back to the front, Ophelia continues to giggle, and Scott gives their friend a look with a combination of pride and amusement. "Stiles! You absolute whore," she giddily exclaims to him.
Stiles' scowl remains prominent as he forces himself to meet her eyes, his cheeks flushed a dark red in embarrassment. "Fuck off."
"Risk and reward! Put the quarter in the mug, win the reward!" Coach holds up the ceramic mug marked with 'coach rules' into the air, then places it onto the floor in front of his desk.
"So, it's just beer pong?" Ophelia calls out as she leans back in her chair, her arms loosely folded across her chest.
Coach's eyes narrow sceptically. "Do I want to know how you know how to play that, Stone?"
"Depends. Are you gonna throw me to the Sheriff for underage drinking?"
The teacher hesitates for a second, his eyes squinting further as he studies the blonde watching him with a blank expression and an arched brow. "... No. I like you too much."
Stiles shakes his head repeatedly and rolls his eyes at the smug grin now plastered on her face. "You know, the Sheriff is my dad."
Ophelia shares a look of exasperation with Scott, then glances at Stiles momentarily before returning her eyes back to front of the classroom. "Mate, you drank almost an entire bottle of scotch last weekend. I also have video proof of you drunkenly performing the Macarena. So, if I was you, I would shut up."
He blinks repeatedly, his lips pursed tightly together. "I-"
"Okay, watch Coach."
"Did he just refer to himself in third person?" Ophelia quietly questions to one of her friends in amusement.
"Yup," Scott murmurs with a nod of his head. "You get used to it."
Coach blows on the coin for good luck, then bounces it on the floor. The entire room is deadly silent until the coin lands in the white mug with a clatter, and everyone immediately breaks into applause. "That's how you do it," he says with a satisfied smile as he basks in the praise. "Okay, Danny... Risk? Reward?"
As the quarter is set onto Danny's desk, the boy in question looks up hesitantly. "What's the reward?"
"You don't have to take the pop quiz tomorrow."
Ophelia stifles a laugh at the reply. "Coach-"
He spins around and jabs a finger in her direction. "Zip it, Stone. Zip. It."
She holds her hands up innocently, and Danny has to contain his own chuckles at the wide grin on her face that appears the second the teacher turns back around to him. "Coach, it's not a pop quiz if you tell us about it," he points out. Ophelia nods frantically and gestures to him in agreement. Aside from that one particular moment a few months ago when the boy had held Jackson back from physically fighting her in the parking lot, she has no reason not to like Danny. Actually, she had grown a rather fond attachment to him.
"Danny, you know, I really expect more from you at this point. Really." Coach rolls his eyes before moving over to Scott. "McCall! Risk, reward. The risk, if you don't put that quarter in the mug, you have to take the pop... the-the-"
"Not a pop quiz?" Ophelia calls out in suggestion.
The man waves a hand at her, and nods in agreement. "Yes, that. And-And you have to write an essay. Risk, more work. Reward... No work at all. Or, choose not to play."
"You're a coward if you don't do this," the hybrid mumbles just loud enough for Scott to hear. She can tell he picked up on the whisper as his eyes subtly narrow and his lips curl into a slight scowl.
The werewolf takes the coin into his fingers and turns it over as he inspects it. "But isn't this just chance?"
"No," Coach firmly denies as if it is blatantly obvious. "You know your abilities-"
"Supernatural abilities to use to your advantage," she utters once more.
"-your coordination, your focus, past experience... All factors affecting the outcome. So, what's it gonna be, McCall? More work, no work, or choose not to play?" Scott stares at the coin for a further few seconds, then finally places it down onto his textbook. "No play!"
"Coward," Ophelia sneers at him. This time though, she isn't subtle about it, resulting in the surrounding students to chuckle.
"I hate you," Scott hisses.
"Okay!" Coach surveys the class, the volume in his voice increasing in determination for someone to rise to his challenge. "Who's next? Who wants the quarter?" Stiles looks in either direction, as if looking for Scott or Ophelia's approval, then he shrugs and taps his hands on the desk with a wide smile on his face."There ya go!" Coach exclaims, handing the coin over to the eager and confident teenager. "There's a gamblin' man! Come on! Step up, step up!"
"Fuck yeah, Stiles!" Ophelia hollers to her friend.
"Stone, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," Coach scolds, although it's fairly obvious that he is taking great enjoyment by her presence, be it slightly inappropriate and unruly, in his class. Clapping his hands together, he watches closely as Stiles aims his throw. "All right, Stilinski!"
However, Ophelia's attention is quickly brought over to the entrance of the classroom as the door is opened, revealing Sheriff Stilinski and a few deputies standing behind him. She shares a look in confusion with Scott, and it appears that he is just as clueless as herself. "Stiles," Noah calls out to his son.
The boy is too focused on the task at hand, mishearing his father's voice as Coach. "Yeah, Coach, I got it-"
"Stiles."
Finally taking notice of who is at the door, Stiles stands up, his face dropping in concern. Giving his two friends a glance, he leaves the classroom to follow his dad. Ophelia and Scott don't need to say anything to each other, both of them already having blocked out whatever Coach is doing at the front and using their enhanced hearing to listen in to the conversation occurring just outside the door.
"I couldn't find her. I just figured she'd hooked up with her other friends. Has no one really seen her since last night?"
"No. We put out an APB, but... Stiles, all her friends say you were the last person who saw her."
"Me?"
"We hope that it's just a series of bad decisions based on too much to drink. But if you remember anything else, you call me. All right?"
Sparing another look at Scott, Ophelia can tell that he is just as confused as herself. She has no idea who the hell the Sheriff could possibly be talking about, but by saying it happened 'last night,' she can only speculate that the missing girl is from the party both Scott and Stiles had attended.
"Yes!" The coin clinking in the mug draws both supernatural teenagers back to the front of the classroom where Danny has just successfully completed Coach's challenge.
"Reward! Okay, who's next? Greenberg, put your hand down. You don't have a chance."
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Ophelia huffs a sigh through her nose as she sweeps her curled hair up into a ponytail, glancing sideways to the boys who walk on the left-hand side of her. "Hold up, you think the Alpha pack kidnapped this chick, Heather, just to turn her?"
"Derek says it's easier to turn teenagers," Stiles adds, nodding his head to her to confirm her question.
Scott's eyebrows furrow together in confusion. "But what would a pack of Alphas need with a Beta?"
When the girl points at him in agreement, Stiles sighs impatiently. "Guys, I don't know. I don't care."
"All right, calm down," Ophelia retorts.
"No, I'm not going to calm down!" Stiles snaps. He shuts his eyes and grimaces regretfully, using a few seconds to take deep breathes. "Sorry. It's just, this girl... Our moms were best friends before mine died, okay? We used to take bubble baths together when we were three. I gotta find her!"
Her gaze softens as she realises just how important Heather is to Stiles. "We're gonna find her," Ophelia tells him confidently. "I promise."
"Then we need Isaac to remember," Scott replies.
"How?" Stiles questions. "Peter, Derek, and Ofi couldn't do it."
"Trust me," she mutters to herself, her nose scrunching up as she remembers what had occurred earlier that morning. "I know."
"You guys know any other werewolves with a better trick?"
Both Stiles and Ophelia share a look when they realise Scott is no longer walking with them, instead having stopped a few metres back. "Maybe not a werewolf," Scott counters. "But someone who knows a lot about them."
"Time to go see our favourite wannabe witch!"
"He's not a witch!"
"I never said he was. I said he-"
"Both of you, stop yelling about witches!" Stiles hisses to them, his eyes darting around as they move through a crowd of students. Ophelia raises an eyebrow to him with an incredulous look on her face. The boy clenches his jaw and curtly nods at her. "Yep, yep, I can't talk..."
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Ophelia had lost count of how many bags of ice had been poured into the metal bathtub, not having the energy to individually count the many plastic packets strewn around the examination room. It had been a little awkward for the hybrid upon entering the animal clinic, this visit being the only one since her previous, more violent encounter with Alan Deaton. To her surprise, the veterinarian had given her a sympathetic smile in understanding and informed her that if she was to ever need any help in the future, he would try his best to give her whatever she needed. Aside from blood.
"Obviously, it's not going to be particularly... comfortable," Deaton speaks quietly to Isaac, the pair watching Derek, Scott, Stiles, and Ophelia prepare the bath. "But, if we can slow your heart down enough, you'll slip into a trance-like state."
Isaac moves forward, his eyes locked onto the ice shifting in the more melted liquid. "Like, being hypnotised."
"Exactly," the man confirms. "You'll be half transformed. It'll let us access your subconscious mind."
"So, it's technically just a therapy session?"
Everyone looks to Ophelia, Deaton chuckling at her words. "Kind of."
Isaac crouches down on the floor and leans his arms over the ledge of the metal tub. Looking up to his boss with a concerned frown, Scott asks, "How slow does his heart rate need to be?"
"Very slow."
Derek's eyes narrow as he meets Deaton's gaze. "Okay, well, how slow is 'very slow'?"
"Nearly dead."
The girl blinks a few times as her head wraps around the many possibly endings that this situation could lead to. "Fuck."
Isaac nervously swallows at how quickly the room's atmosphere has changed to one of immense unease and concern. He tentatively dips his fingers into the water, and almost instantaneously retracts his hand out with a hiss at the temperature. "It's safe though, right?"
"Do you want me to answer honestly?"
Glancing up at the adult, the Lahey sighs heavily and shakes his head. "No. No, not really." Looking for some sort of comfort or reassurance from his friend, he then looks over to Ophelia staring at the ice with a blank face. "Fi, have you ever done this before?"
Her eyes flick over to his and she gnaws on her lip in worry. "No, not this... I'd normally have a proper witch on speed dial for an actual spell."
Which is true; Bonnie Bennet used to be her emergency contact. Despite being engulfed in the supernatural world for such a long time, Ophelia had rarely any contact with witches. Which in her current situation meant that she no longer had anyone to call and ask for advice on how to retrieve Isaac's lost memories.
A loud snap leads everyone to look to the side, Ophelia a stark contrast to Derek's expression, having to bite onto her tongue to stop herself from loudly laughing. Feeling eyes on him, Stiles stops wiggling his fingers and turns toward the group, his slight smile quickly dropping. "What?" The Hale raises his eyebrows pointedly at the rubber glove on one of the boy's hands, and Stiles rolls his eyes before ripping it off and tossing it onto the floor in irritation.
"Look, if it feels too risky, you don't have to do this," Derek tells his Beta, the other two supernatural creatures nodding when Isaac looks over to them.
Isaac takes a deep breath and removes his shirt, Ophelia internally yelling at herself in disappointment for letting her eyes linger a little too long on his defined abs. "Have fun," she tells him. Despite trying to hide the sarcasm, her efforts do little to nothing as Derek glares at her.
Puffing out a breath of air, the werewolf slowly steps into the bath, and a gasp quickly leaves his parted lips as he lowers himself into the icy water.
Glancing to the other Alpha, Derek and Ophelia share a nod as they grip onto either one of Isaac's shoulders, preparing to push the boy under water. Once she counts to 'three,' the pair forcefully push Isaac down, both of them grimacing at the water that spills over the side and crashes onto their shoes. Stiles and Scott share a nervous glance as they watch Isaac emerge after a few seconds, his eyes glowing golden as he loudly roars with his canines on full display. "Get him back under," Deaton firmly orders.
With a look of disbelief, Ophelia scoffs as she places her other hand onto Isaac's shoulder. "What the hell does it look like we're doing? Having a cup of tea?"
Isaac continues to vigorously struggle in the grips of Derek and Ophelia, but from their combined strength, he doesn't seem to be getting very far. "Hold him," Deaton reiterates with his arms folded.
Sharing a look of exasperation with the girl, Derek glances over to the man to snap, "We are!"
After a few more seconds being fully submerged under the mostly melted ice, Isaac's efforts to leave the bath finally come to a still. Similar to Derek, Ophelia hesitantly removes her hands off his shoulder and steps back, keeping a watchful eye on the werewolf's movements. Isaac slowly floats to the surface and sucks in a gasp of air whilst his eyes remain closed. The room looks to Deaton for further instruction, and the veterinarian glances to everyone individually and holds up a finger in warning. "Now remember, only I talk to him. Too many voices will confuse him and draw him out." Once he receives nods, he leans forward and calmly begins to speak. "Isaac, can you hear me?"
"Yes," the boy quietly replies, his lips a shade of blue from the cold. "I can hear you."
"Holy shit," Ophelia murmurs, her eyes wide in awe that this had actually worked.
Similar stares are thrown to Deaton, yet he ignores all of them, solely concentrating on the werewolf in the bath. "This is Doctor Deaton. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"
"Yes."
"I want to ask you about the night you found Erica and Boyd." As if the weather Gods wanted to cause some drama, thunder begins to rumble outside. "I want you to remember it for me in as vivid detail as possible, like you're actually there again."
Isaac's body tenses. "I-I don't wanna do that. I don't- I don't wanna do that. I don't wanna do that." Ophelia sharply inhales as she hears the fear trembling in his voice, and she locks eyes with Derek, both of them placing their hands back onto Isaac as he begins to weakly struggle in the water.
"Isaac, it's all right. Just relax," Deaton soothes, his eyes cautiously darting around the room as the lights begin to flicker. "They're just memories. You can't be hurt by a memory."
Despite the almost annoyingly calm voice guiding him, Isaac continues to protest desperately, almost like he would rather do anything but recount the moments. "I don't wanna do that."
"It's all right-"
"I don't wanna do that," he interrupts loudly.
"Relax. Relax." When Isaac's objections trail off and he does relax, Deaton gives the pair a small nod. Ophelia and Derek take a step back from the bath once more. "Good. Now, let's go back to that night, to the place you found Erica and Boyd. Can you tell me what you see? Is there some kind of building? A house?"
Isaac continues to shiver, his teeth now slightly chattering. His voice is clearer and calmer. "It's not... It's not a house. It's stone. I think marble."
The hybrid spares a look at Stiles and Scott who watch intensely as Isaac answers Deaton. "That's perfect," the veterinarian reassures. "Can you give me any other descriptions?"
"It's dusty, it's-uh, empty."
"Like an abandoned building?"
The lights begin to flicker again, and the rumbling thunder commences for a second time as if it's a representation of Isaac's reluctance to answer. Ophelia's lips purse together as she glances to Derek. "I don't like this," she mutters.
"Isaac?" Deaton presses the boy. "Isaac?"
"Someone's here," he answers frantically. A hand tightly wraps onto Ophelia's arm in a death grip, the panic beginning to set back in as he relives the memory in the form of an intense flashback. "Someone's here!"
"Isaac, relax."
Deaton's words do nothing, Isaac thrashing against the two grips holding him down in the water. "No, no, no, they see me! They see me!" Screams of terror leave his mouth, and Ophelia lifts her head to study Deaton as she begins to question whether they should continue this process all together.
"Just memories, you won't be hurt by your memories. Just relax. Relax." Isaac's body slumps as the adult continues to soothe him. "Good. Now tell us what you see. Tell us everything."
The pair of blue eyes finally open, but Isaac isn't fully with them. "I hear him," he quietly speaks up. "He's talking about the full moon, about being out of control when the moon rises."
"Is he talking to Erica?"
"I think so. I can't... I can't see her, I ca-I can't see either of them."
"Can you hear anything else?" Deaton queries.
Isaac continues to stare at the ceiling, completely transfixed by the memory. "They're worried what they'll do during the moon. They're... worried that they're gonna hurt each other."
Ophelia's eyes widen and she shares a look with Derek, both quickly realising the severity of his words. "If they're locked up together on a full moon..."
"They're gonna tear each other apart," Derek finishes with a short sigh.
Deaton nods at both of them, then turns back to the teenager in the bathtub, his voice firmer than before with a newfound urgency. "Isaac, we need to find them right now. Can you see them?"
"No."
"Do you know what kind of room it is? Is there any kind of a marker? A number on a door? A sign?"
Without any warning, Isaac sits up with a gasp, breathing heavily as he remains in the trance. "They're here," he whispers softly.
Stiles' eyebrows raise and he looks around the room, just to double check that what has just been said isn't true.
"It's all right," Deaton tries.
"No!"
"Just tell us-"
"They see me! They found me!" Both of Isaac's arms are grabbed once again. "They're here!"
"This isn't working," Derek says quickly, moving around the bath so he is leaning over the bath, similar to Deaton. "Isaac, where are you?"
"Derek," Ophelia hisses in warning, her eyes narrowed to slits. Even if Deaton isn't a typical witch, she is smart enough to know that something like this should never be messed with. Especially if it meant putting Isaac's life on the line.
"I can't see them, it's too dark!"
"Just tell me where you are," Derek presses impatiently.
Deaton urgently adds, "You are confusing him-"
"I can't see!"
"Isaac, where are you? Just tell me where you are!"
"His heart rate," Deaton stresses in worry. "He could go into shock-"
With a low growl of annoyance Ophelia takes a step back, and without another further thought, she grabs onto Derek's arm and spins him around to punch him squarely in the face. When the now unconscious man slumps to the floor, the hybrid smiles in satisfaction. "Problem solved," she casually says to the three staring at her in shock.
Attention now back onto the teenage werewolf, Deaton's voice raises again, but he doesn't hold the impatience that Derek did. "Isaac, where are you?"
"A vault! It's a bank vault!" Ophelia softly sighs as Isaac sits up, snapping out of his dream-like trance. "I saw it! I saw the name," he rambles, shivering as he is helped out of the bath by Scott and Ophelia, the veterinarian handing him a towel. "It's uh, B-Beacon Hills First National Bank. It's, um... it's an abandoned bank, and they're keeping them locked inside, inside the vault." When he looks around the room, Isaac's lips tug down into a frown at the silence he is greeted with. "What?"
"You don't remember what you said right before you came out of it, do you?" Stiles questions him.
Isaac shakes his head and clutches the towel tightly around his dripping body. "No."
Stiles sighs, shutting his eyes briefly. "You said when they captured you, that they dragged you into a room, and that there was a body in it."
Isaac's eyes dart around nervously. "What body?"
"Erica," Ophelia reveals grimly. "You said it was Erica."
With a groan, Derek's eyes snap open as he clutches his broken nose that is quickly healing. "I'm going to kill you," he mutters angrily toward Ophelia. Although he pauses when he doesn't receive his usual smug retort from the girl. Standing up, Derek's eyes only widen further in surprise finding his Beta awake and sporting a solemn expression like the others. "What happened?"
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Roughly ten minutes have passed since Derek had been filled in on what he had missed out on. Of those ten, seven had been of the man pacing around the room in silence. "She's not dead."
Stiles' eyes squint as he watches the Alpha finally come to a stop. "Derek, he said, 'There's a dead body. It's Erica.' Doesn't exactly leave us room for interpretation."
"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" Derek asks.
Ophelia shrugs as she looks up from picking at her worn red nail polish. "Not Erica."
Stiles nods to her. "Someone else, obviously."
"And maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle, okay?" Scott points out, looking over to Isaac who has now changed back into his clothes. "The one who saved you?"
"No, she wasn't like us," Isaac denies with a shake of his head. "And whoever was in the vault with Boyd was."
"What if that's how Erica died?" Stiles theorises. "They, like, pit them against each other during the full moons and see which one survives? It's like werewolf thunder-dome."
"Solid idea," Ophelia replies. "It could be a supernatural version of 'Survivor.' Maybe Duke's been watching a little reality telly."
"Then we get them out tonight."
Deaton sighs at the Hale's determined statement. "Be smart about this, Derek. You can't just go storming in."
"Are you kidding me?" Ophelia chuckles at him and shakes her head. "I'll punch a hole in a bloody wall."
Derek slowly nods at her in agreement, and his eyes flick over to Isaac. "If Isaac got in, then so can we."
Deaton looks between both Derek and Ophelia, his eyebrows raising pointedly as he counters, "But he didn't get through a vault door, did he?"
Ophelia scoffs and she shrugs on her jacket that had been discarded out of fear that it would get ruined by the water. "Well, then, I'll punch through the door instead."
Scott shakes his head in amusement at her firm propositions to break into the bank. "We need a plan, Fi." When she opens her mouth to no doubt suggest another violent entry, he raises his eyebrows at her. "A better plan."
"That's a brilliant plan," Ophelia mumbles to herself, unable to understand how punching into a wall doesn't seem appealing to anyone but her.
"How are we gonna come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours?"
"Uh, I think someone already did," Stiles responds, his eyes glued to something on his phone. "'Beacon Hills First National closed its doors three months after vault robbery,'" he reads aloud. "Doesn't say here how it was robbed, but it probably won't take long to find out."
"How long?"
"It's the internet, Derek, okay?" Stiles answers with a chuckle. "Minutes."
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When Ophelia had arrived home no more than fifteen minutes after departing from the animal clinic, she had been greeted by Rebekah staring into the fireplace with a glass filled to the brim with blood held tightly in her hand. The hybrid's small smile drops into a frown of concern as she takes the spare spot on the couch beside her older sister. "What's wrong?"
The Original vampire shuts her eyes and sighs, then downs the entire glass in a few seconds. She finally turns to face the younger girl and gently grabs onto both of her hands. "We need to talk."
"I don't like those words," Ophelia slowly says, her eyes narrowing as she searches the woman's face for any hint of what might be going on.
"Hope and I need to leave."
The blonde's eyes widen at the blunt response, and her lips part open in surprise. "Oh," she whispers.
"It's nothing about you, it's just a precaution. We can't be too careful, even with the cloaking spell."
Ophelia nods in understanding and thickly swallows the lump that has appeared in her throat. "Yeah, no, I get it. Gotta make sure no one finds her."
Her heart drops into her stomach when Rebekah watches a single tear drop down the girl's cheek. "Oh, sweetheart." Quickly, she grabs onto her sister and pulls her into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," she murmurs, willing that her voice won't crack. "I wish we could stay."
Screwing her eyes shut, refusing to let any further tears fall, Ophelia hums in acknowledgment. "Me too. It's... It's been nicer than I thought, you know, having you both around." As they pull out of the embrace, she takes a deep breath as she tries to centre herself; to keep herself from breaking down into hysterical sobs. "I guess it just made me realise how lonely I really was."
"Everyone would love to have you in New Orleans," Rebekah points out. She softly laughs when a look of disgust appears on Ophelia's face.
"And get caught up in Nik's ridiculous battle for the fucking throne? No, thanks." Her slight smile fades away as continues to chip away at her nail polish, not allowing herself to meet her sister's gaze. "I can't just leave them here." Her eyebrows pull together slightly as she begins to realise just how much Beacon Hills has come to mean to her over the short time she's resided in the town for. "They're... They're all becoming like family, I guess."
"I understand," the older blonde responds with a small smile. "Nik will too. Everyone will." Clearing her throat, she reaches behind her to grab something that had been hidden under a decorative cushion. "A parting gift," she adds whilst handing it over.
The second Ophelia lays eyes on the photograph, another wave of hot tears blur her vision. "Oh, Bex..." Printed in black and white is a photo taken only a few days ago of Hope, Ophelia and Rebekah. The frame is a beautiful mahogany wood, but what almost breaks her is when she finds the cursive words of 'Always and Forever' engraved into a brass plate on the bottom, the Mikaelson family crest on either side. "It's perfect," she whispers.
"Wherever I am, I will always be here for you. No matter what."
𝘏𝘪 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴!!
𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘬- 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳. 𝘐𝘛 𝘞𝘈𝘚 𝘚𝘖 𝘍𝘜𝘕𝘕𝘠 𝘛𝘖 𝘞𝘙𝘐𝘛𝘌. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘉𝘦𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘺.
𝘉𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘰𝘳𝘢, 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦
𝘈𝘭𝘴𝘰, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘳? 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘚𝘖 𝘔𝘜𝘊𝘏!!
𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹
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