𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄 | Josie Saltzman

Chapter 3

Lydia took a deep breath and averted her eyes from the view she had from her room window. Knowing that she would not be returning here anytime soon was bitter. She had never left New Orleans for a long time, and so she tried to recite every inch of her familiar surroundings to herself to keep herself from forgetting it.

She pushed herself off the windowsill she had been leaning on and walked over to her suitcase. After the conversation with Freya the previous day, she had gotten around to packing the last few things that were still missing and then closing it. With that, her departure had been sealed for her. Although she would rather stay, she had resolved not to complain further. Even though she knew how much willpower it would cost her.

She lifted her suitcase off the bed and set it on the floor to drag it behind her. On her way to the door, she grabbed the leather jacket her father had given her not too long ago. Then she left her room and headed straight for the stairs, where she stopped. She tried to squeeze the jacket under her arm to have both hands free, and then took the suitcase with both hands to be able to carry it down the stairs. She didn't want to take the risk of breaking it just before she left.

"Wait, Lydia," she heard a voice behind her when she had already taken some steps and paused in mid-motion. At the landing stood her father, who quickly descended to her and took her luggage.
"Morning, Dad," she greeted him and let him take the things from her without complaint, "Thank you."
"Good morning," a broad smile crept onto his lips, "Why didn't you ask someone to help you?"
"There was no one here, and I can do things on my own," she replied as she descended the stairs behind him until she reached the bottom.
"You're in a house of vampires. Most of us have excellent ears," he reminded her of the circumstances in which she lived.

She rolled her eyes slightly. Kol could tend to be overprotective when it came to his daughter. The older she got, the worse it seemed to get. Davina did keep telling her that he would stop doing that, but in situations like this, she found it hard to believe.
"Carrying my stuff, I can manage without extra vampire strength," she tilted her head slightly as she looked at him with a deliberate expression, "I'm not a kid anymore."
"Yeah, I know," he ran a hand through his dark hair, "Still, I'm still your dad, and I don't want anything to happen to you."
"What could happen to me?" she asked, frowning. That he didn't mean the suitcase, she could guess. However, she didn't know what else he could be alluding to.
"Nothing, I was just saying that," he shook his head, but there was an expression in his eyes that made Lydia swallow hard. Was there something she didn't know about?

"Come on, I'm sure your mother and Hope are waiting for you outside," he deflected from the subject, reminding her what their original plan had been, "It's better if you leave as early as possible. It's not a stone's throw to Mystic Falls."
"All right," she conceded defeat as she took back her luggage.

Together they walked through the courtyard, into which the first, faint rays of sunlight were already falling at this hour, bathing the old-time family home in golden light. An image that she would undoubtedly miss and of which she only now realized how little she had appreciated it until now. Nevertheless, she refrained from any further grumbling. Even that would not change her situation. She would have to go to Mystic Falls. She knew deep inside that she had no other choice.

So she kept silent as she walked beside her father toward the exit and out onto the city streets. There was hardly anything going on on them at this time of the day. The last vampires who had been hanging around under the cover of the night were retreating into their homes. The remaining residents were probably still in their beds, waiting for the first soft rays of sunlight to tickle the tip of their noses.

Parked on the sidewalk was a dark convertible that could easily have come from another era. The roof was down, and the seats were unoccupied. Leaning against it was Davina Claire, the brunette hair she had bequeathed to her daughter tied into a loose knot. Although she was not a vampire, she did not seem to have aged in the time Lydia had known her. Instead, the same youthful smile still appeared on her lips when she spied her family.
"Good morning," she greeted them, pushing off from the car to walk toward her husband, "I didn't expect to see you here at this hour."
"I can't just let our daughter go without a proper goodbye," he snapped indignantly at his wife's assumption that he wouldn't show up. 
"I thought you knew me better than that. "Davina responded with nothing but a smile and pressed an affectionate kiss to his cheek. The look she gave him was reminiscent of a silent declaration of love.