❝ a strange encounter! ❞
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
ROSALIE FROWNED, wondering how on earth she got there. A beautiful mansion stood in front of her, glowing under the full moon. A few pillars of white marble, like a majority of the building's material, held the house upright. She looked around; there was an intricate fountain behind her, just in the middle of a circular driveway. A path of pearl-colored cobblestone was spread out in the opposite direction of the house, yellow light bulbs spaced evenly along the border between the pavement and the spread of emerald green grass.
What time is it? the brunette thought to herself. It must be very late because she couldn't hear the bustle that inevitably came from the streets. There were lights lining up the entrance to the house, but she couldn't see past the dark thicket of trees that surrounded the area. Rosalie crossed her arms around her chest, trying to get warm. It was cold, very much so, and she couldn't help but scold herself for wearing shorts and a camisole as pajamas.
The brunette was so lost in her own thoughts that she failed to notice that the front door of the mansion had opened, showing a disheveled Klaus. He already had a difficult time sleeping, making his eyes look tired and pinkish. His dark blond hair seemed to point in every direction, and it didn't help that he had a tendency to run his fingers through it. What was more amusing, however, was the sight of him in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He had hastily shoved the top on when he caught her scent from an open window.
The hybrid's footsteps (he didn't have the patience to use slippers or any type of footwear) startled her out of the trance she was in and Rosalie met his gaze. Worried and curious, Klaus stopped in front of her, "Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?"
"Er, no. I'm sorry," she said, awkwardly. The last thing she remembered was the strange wedding dream with an odd man. The brunette could recall everything she did before she fell asleep, none of which involved standing like an idiot in the middle of a stranger's property. "But I can't remember how or why I'm here."
"My name is Niklaus, but you can call me Nik. I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself last time." He smiled kindly at her, then held out a hand, and she suddenly felt breathless. It was like the air from her lungs was spontaneously sucked out. The brunette looked at his outstretched hand, then back to his eyes. Those eyes. It felt as though she was being engulfed in a warm blanket, or downing a cup of hot cocoa; it felt like home.
"Rosalie," she swiftly whispered upon realizing that she'd been dazed, but he didn't seem to mind as he (more than willingly) held eye contact. Goosebumps erupted on their arms and tingles ran down their spines as soon as their hands connected.
The brunette jumped in surprise, removing her cold hand from his warm one when she felt something akin to an electric current travel through her. "Uh...sorry," Rosalie gestured behind her, maintaining eye contact with him, injured hand wrapped along the span of her stomach, "I should probably go."
"I don't think that's a good idea," the hybrid frowned. "It's the dead of night and I wouldn't wander around if I were you."
Truthfully, nothing bad would happen to Rosalie at any time of the dayㅡhe made sure of that, but he couldn't help himself. Klaus longed to be in her presence, even if she recalled none of their past. He was only...hybrid?
"Do you want to come inside?" Klaus noted the look of hesitation on her features and playfully added, "Don't worry, I'm not an axe murderer."
She burst out laughing, making him smile. Rosalie shook her head, grinning. "Gee, I sure hope not."
They made eye contact, eyes shining with joy as warmth coursed through their veins. It might be completely idiotic, to enter a stranger's house in the middle of the evening; but the brunette somehow knew she could trust him. Rosalie was seriously thinking of taking a personality test.
Klaus smiled, tilting his head towards the front door, "Come on."
Like an idiot, the brunette followed him to the steps of the mansion. A gentle smile was plastered on his lips, pinkish under the dim lighting. The Monet swallowed thickly, trying to force the lump that had formed in her throat down. Now that the distance between them was somewhat shorter, and nothing else held her attention, she could observe him a bit clearer.
The veins on his arms, blue and purple twists beneath the milky expanse of his skin, were visible. Every flexion of his muscles suddenly seemed like a vital thing to notice.
The creak of the front door opening snapped the brunette out of her daze and she walked inside when he held it open for her. The interior was, for the lack of better word, stunning. Nearly every surface was made of polished marble, faint cracks of onyx decorating the pearly surface. Gold leaves and vines were scattered beautifully on the ceiling. Paintings of lavender fields and waterfalls occupied fractions of the wall at spaced intervals.
Klaus cleared his throat from behind her, making her whirl around to face him. He was holding a black robe at the corners, eyes silently asking for her permission.
"Please," he muttered before averting his gaze from her build. Apart from his concern for her occasional shivers, the revealing fabric of her clothing was far too much for him to handle. "You must be freezing."
"Thank you." Rosalie smiled, turning her back and slipping her arms in, careful not to disturb her injury. "You have a wonderful home."
Klaus scratched the back of his neck, mumbling a small thanks. "Do you want some tea? Or milk?" he questioned nervously, unsure of what to do.
"Sure," she mumbled absentmindedly, looking at a painting of the seaside. Her hands, strained and competent alike, were tucked in the pockets of the robe.
"Rosalie?" Klaus called out after a few minutes. The brunette in question turned her head towards the direction of his voice, feet trudging across the threadbare carpet.
She was met by the sight of a poorly lit room, the crackling hearth casting a warm glow on a side of the chamber. It looked cozy, with the crimson wallpapers and carpeted floor. The brunette saw him on the sidelines, holding a pair of mugs. She approached him.
"Thank you," Rosalie smiled, accepting the cup of warm honeyed milk Klaus offered her. He nodded for her to follow him to the center of the area where pieces of antique furniture were located. They sat facing each other on velvety armchairs, the flickering embers of a fireplace serving as the only light in the room.
The hybrid grinned softly at her, holding a mug of his own. He could see the flames reflecting in her golden eyes, tongues of red and orange amplifying its already startling shade. Her skin glowed as the fire kissed her face. He found the way his huge robe hugged her body terribly endearing.
"I'm really sorry I disturㅡ"
He chuckled, "You've got to stop apologizing, love."
"You've been saying 'sorry' all night," he continued upon seeing her questioning gaze. Rosalie pulled her knees to her chest, placing her chin on them, and grimaced.
"I'm soㅡ"
Feeling embarrassingly stupid, the brunette screwed her eyes shut. "Right," she breathed out. She expected him to make fun of her, or to push her away from the house because of her awkwardness; but he was still gazing at her as if she discovered penicillin, the corners of his lips slightly curved upward.
"Your eyes," Klaus mumbled after a moment of silence.
"Oh, I don't know why they're this," the brunette cringed. "It looks like I have some sort of jaundice."
The blond furrowed his eyebrows, "They look more like gold, actually. It's beautiful."
After what seemed minutes of gazing into each others eyes, Rosalie chuckled with reddened cheeks. "Are you always this flattering?"
"Only for you, love." He grinned teasingly, causing a brief chuckle to escape her as she shook her head at his cheekiness.
Rosalie rolled her eyes playfully, "Don't make me blush."
"But it's so easy," he whispered with a grin, lips brushing against his mug.
The Monet groaned, "Nik!"
Klaus laughed at her expression, raising a hand in surrender.
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
"Well, thanks for the ride," Rosalie grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, again, for ruining your evening."
Klaus playfully rolled his cerulean orbs, a smile still present on his face. He had missed thisㅡthe rush of warmth that inexplicably flooded his veins when he was with her, the way his lips never seemed to stop smiling, the feeling of happiness; and by God, did he revel in it. "You didn't ruin my evening, love. Quite the contrary, actually."
"Aren't you the charmer," the brunette snorted, but the blush dusting her cheeks gave away her act of nonchalance. The sight of it (it was hard to miss when someone closely mimicked a tomato) brought a strange pressure in Klaus' chest, causing him to smirk proudly that he caused a reaction from her.
"Good night, Nik," Rosalie murmured, feeling absurdly giddy inside. She opened the door of the black vehicle and walked out.
He smiled, watching her walk to the porch. Feeling his gaze on her back, she turned around, still as red as a cherry, and waved at him.
Once she was inside the Monet household, Rosalie leaned against the front door. It felt as though the flames from Nik's fireplace made themselves at home within the valley of her cheekbones. Pale, slender fingers gently rubbed them as she tried to calm her heartbeat. She placed her bandaged hand above her heart, feeling it thudding wildly.
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
If you asked the people of Mystic Falls what took up the majority of Rosalie Monet's time, all their answers would be the same: reading. Whether it's sci-fi or a biography, a thriller or a romance, the brunette could never be seen without a book regardless of where she went (except when she was sleepwalking to stranger's houses, which, by the way, still remained a mystery to her); which was why going to the library made her feel ecstatic.
Today marked the first day of her scheduled research for her thesis, and the Monet was not known for letting opportunities pass her byㅡshe made every single day count. Every hour, every minute, every second, was allotted an activity. Bumping into something, or rather, someone, was definitely not an occurrence she desired.
Running in a hurry to get to the library was something she would never try again. The brunette and her papers flew unceremoniously onto the concrete pavement in a blur of colors. Luckily, the sheets of parchment she had brought were grouped into folders, making it easy for her and whoever she'd crashed into pick them up.
"I'm sorryㅡ" they both said at the same time, the other voice masculine. Rosalie wasn't even paying attention, mentally chanting "I'm late, I'm late, I'm late."
Once all the folders were tucked safely in her arms, the brunette stood up from her crouch and finally saw the face of the victim of her ignorance. It was a blond male, probably in his late thirties, and there were lines under his blue eyes.
"Aren't you Rosalie? Alaska's sister?"
She scrunched her eyebrows, looking skeptically at the man; but he continued, "I'm Alaric Saltzman, her history teacher and close friend. People just call me Ric."
"Oh," Rosalie breathed out, "yeah. It's nice to meet you, Ric. I'm sorry, I have to be somewhere right now. See you around?"
"Sure."
The brunette nodded, smiling politely before trudging up the library's entrance. Ric watched her enter the compound, feeling something strange flowering in the pit of his stomach. His heightened sense for the supernatural was definitely active, even if he didn't know it, now that the darkest parts of him was exposed by the Gilbert ring. The idea itself was supernatural in its own way, but it was reliable, regardless. There was no denying that the sensation he felt with the Salvatoresㅡvampiresㅡwas the same feeling he got in Rosalie's presence.
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
The evening was already progressing to its darkest extent. The skies were dark, and the stars were out, both giving off a sense of serenity; but the events in the Mikaelson Manor was anything but.
"She's here," Klaus whispered, making eye contact with the other Original. "In Mystic Falls."
Elijah froze, eyes glazing with unshed tears, eyebrows furrowed in pain. "Wㅡwhat?"
The hybrid had just finished telling his older brother about the death of their father, leaving the more shocking news for last. After what seemed like hours, Klaus took a shuddering breath, "Her name's Rosalie Monet."
The older Mikaelson leaned against the wooden coffin for support, his hand gripping the collar of his suit; while the younger one remained staring at nothing in particular, trapped in a daze as his eyes clouded with sorrow. Klaus' chest was caving in from the weight of the memories flashing through his mind, making the immortal heave silently for air.
A few minutes had passed and the pair of Original brothers, along with Stefan and Damon Salvatore, were sitting in a circular table to argue their terms. Tensions ran high, Klaus trying his best not to sever Stefan's head from his body. He was still furious about the car incident with Rosalie, so he decided to divert the subject to keep his sanity together.
"Should we tell them about Tatia?"
"Now," Elijah chuckled weakly, "why should we discuss matters long since resolved?"
Klaus grinned wickedly, knowing that he had hit a nerve with the rest of his dinner companions. "Well, given their shared affection for both Elena and Katerina, I think our guests might be curious to learn about the originator of the Petrova line."
It was Damon who spoke this time, looking as though he prepared himself for the annoyance beforehand. "We're not going anywhere, Elijah," he raised his glass, taking a sip. "Please, do tell."
"When our family first settled here, there was a girl named Tatia. She was an exquisite beauty. Every boy of age desired to be her suitor, even though she'd had a child by another manㅡ"
"ㅡand none loved her more than my darling brother, Elijah," Klaus cut him off, a smug look on his features.
"Oh," the older Mikaelson mused. "I say there was one who loved her at least as much."
"Wait, so you both loved the same girl?" Stefan gestured between the brothers, confused.
Klaus snorted. "Oh, please. My heart already belonged to someone else long before Tatia arrived. I was mㅡ"
The hybrid choked on air, an expression of melancholy clear on his face. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, "I'm talking about our other brother, Kol."
Elijah saw this, and tried to divert the Salvatores' attention to him. "Our mother was a very powerful witch. She sought to end our feud over Tatia, so she took her. We would later learn that it was Tatia's blood that we that consumed in the wine on the night where our mother performed a spell which turned us into vampires.
"Tatia wouldn't make a decision between the two of us, so for a time, Kol and I...grew estranged. Harsh words were traded, we even came to blows, but in the end we recognized the sacred bond of family."
"Family above all." Klaus finished, raising his glass, Elijah following en suite.
"Family above all."
❝ be kind. ❞
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