Southern Nights {The Originals Shorts + Preferences}

Christmas In Dixie - Kol x reader

Thunk! Skitter... Ding! Click, click, clack... SPLOOSH!

That was the sound of a rock falling down into a sewer grate. How unfortunate.

Perhaps we should elaborate; Kol Mikaelson had left home exactly thirty-eight minutes and twenty-two seconds ago. Exactly four minutes and fifty eight seconds into his walk, he had found a tennis-ball-sized stone and for thirty-three minutes, he had been kicking that particular rock ahead of him as he made his way down the streets of New Orleans. Not once in those thirty-three minutes had he fumbled a kick, miscalculated the stone's trajectory, been interrupted by a pedestrian, or come across any other sort of misfortune that would cause him to break his perfect streak. Honestly, his rock-kicking was quite remarkable and Kol was sure he had broken some sort of record. But all good things must come to an end, and in his case, that end came in the form of an unexpected sewage drain.

So why was the loss of something as insignificant as a rock so unfortunate? That answer was simple. The rock was a distraction.

It was a distraction from all the loud, chaotic, and downright painful thoughts running rampant in his head. He'd taken a walk to try to clear his mind. There was a party being held at the compound that night and there was music and dancing and so much alcohol, an entire army of sailors couldn't dream of drinking it all. On any other night, he would have loved that sort of thing. But tonight he couldn't stand it. Because this wasn't any other night. The month was December and tonight was the tenth.

December tenth wasn't a good day for Kol - not since 1914.

As he'd glanced around at the preparations for celebration, he'd felt almost sick. It was all too familiar, and as much as he tried to ignore it and push it down, there were just some things he couldn't block out. The ghost of a silver dagger slicing it's way into his heart was one of those things.

Kol had slipped away from it all sometime around seven PM and though Rebekah had caught him as he made his way out the door, she didn't try to stop him. No words had been exchanged, only a simple nod because it was December tenth and she knew what she'd done in nineteen fourteen. She figured she owed him one. After all, time doesn't really heal all wounds and it hadn't been one hundred years for him.

So, he'd kicked a rock down the street to get his mind off of all the things he probably should have been thinking about.

That rock was pretty much the only reason he hadn't committed several accounts of first-degree murder that dreary December night and there it went down a drain as if it didn't have a responsibility to uphold - that responsibility being his mental health and the well being of any stray human within a four-block radius.

Kol sighed at his misfortune and lifted his gaze to the world around him. His surroundings were completely and utterly foreign. He'd never really had the time to familiarize himself with much of New Orleans but he did know enough to admit that he was hopelessly and completely lost. Had he crossed the river? He couldn't remember. He hadn't even taken his phone with him on his way out which meant no google maps for him.

How bloody fantastic.

He supposed it wasn't all that bad; Kol wasn't ready to go back home yet. Lingering feelings of something melancholy still clung to him like the chill in the winter air. It surprised him that he didn't feel particularly angry like he usually did when thinking about Niklaus and his daggers. He just felt ... sad, really.

Because despite all the more rage-inducing events that had become attached to it over the years, Kol still had a soft spot when it came to Christmas - or holiday bonfire season as he still sometimes thought of it. Whatever the name, he'd always taken comfort in the season. That time of year when the harvest had been successful and even though the winter was sure to be harsh and cold, somehow things felt warmer because everyone was happier despite not having that much of a reason to be. It was a time to be grateful - though he was never too good at that part - and it was a time to make wishes for the coming of the New Year. Making wishes and burning them for luck had always been his favorite tradition, and not just because there was fire involved though that was definitely a plus.