Southern Nights {The Originals Shorts + Preferences}

Of Ice Skates and Sugar Cookies

Summary: Kol Mikaelson x reader || You had noticed that your flatmate had been acting moody recently - well, more so than usual - so you take it upon yourself to cheer him up. But when you receive some rather heartbreaking news, it seems as though you might find your roles reversed...

Word Count: Big Lots.

Warnings: Mild angst, loss of loved ones, emotional rollercoaster, tooth rotting fluff.

***

"Come on, Koala. Do it!"

"No." The dark-haired British boy in front of you shook his head vigorously from side to side. "Not happening."

"You can do it; I believe in you!"

You hadn't thought it possible for him to cling to the wall any more desperately than he already was, but apparently, you were wrong. The cackle of laughter that escaped his lips sounded downright hysterical and you found it quite humorous that your usually fearless flatmate was so obviously terrified.

"You believe in me yet you don't believe in the NASA Moon Landing?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. You idly shifted your weight against the thin blades strapped to your feet and flipped some of the loose strands of your H/C hair out of your face, tucking them back under your beanie.

"That's about right. I don't believe in Cleveland or Cincinnati either," You declared.

"What about Toledo?" He challenged. You paused.

"I, uh ... still haven't made up my mind yet about Toledo..."

He snorted and shook his head, shuffling his feet again.

"However," You continued forcefully. "I firmly believe you, Kol Mikaelson, can do anything you put your mind to. So, feel the freakin' Force, Luke." He glanced up and jabbed a finger at you accusingly.

"First of all, you're not Obi-Wan Kenobi and second, I think I'm fine right here, thank you very much." The boy wobbled dangerously as one foot slid a little too far away from him and, with a rather undignified noise he would never admit to having made, Kol flung the entirety of his weight at the wall surrounding the rink and held on for dear life. He looked so ridiculous but, being the kind person you were, you tried your best not to laugh.

About a year ago, you had realized that you were drowning in student loan debt. Turns out, working part time at Panara Bread doesn't pay enough to support both an education and a place to live. Your solution? A flatmate!

Kol Mikaelson was the man you'd decided to share your flat with and three things about him had been clear since day one: He was arrogant, childish and could definitely use a good kick in the ego. You know what wasn't clear from day one? The whole 'Oh-yeah-I'm-a-one-thousand-year-old-Original-Vampire' thing. Yeah. That little sweetheart was something you caught onto later.

How did you find out? Funny story, actually.

See, you'd always thought of yourself as a rather warm and open person. After about two months of living with him, you came to realize that the boy you shared your flat with was not. For everything he had to say about himself - which was plenty - he never told you anything significant about his life. Whenever you asked him something remotely personal, he would shut you down with a glare that sent chills down your spine. Kol claimed that just because the two of you shared a roof didn't mean you had to share a life. He was moody and temperamental and nearly any conversation with him was like navigating an emotional minefield.

One night you came home early from work, threw your coat down on the couch, and flipped on the lights. When you looked up, lo-and-behold standing there, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, was just about the last thing you'd wanted to see at 10:53 PM. Kol - the guy you had shared a toothbrush holder with for almost two months - held some poor girl in his arms with an iron grip, despite her lack of struggle. His face was burried in her neck, biting and tearing at her the flesh of her throat with teeth of a nightmarish length and wicked sharpness. If Kol had heard you come in, it took him a few moments to acknowledge it. When he ripped his freaky teeth out of that poor girl's throat, his usually chocolate brown eyes were corrupted entirely with a blackness that seemed to drip like tar along the strands of a spider's web sprawled across his innocent features. The sight was truly horrific.