Two hearts made of stone. A little friction, and a spark erupted. That spark was the beginning of their love story. But, the fire was the end of it."
In which, the almighty tribrid falls for the hybrid she swore to never love, all over again.
"I've...
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The constant buzzing sound of her phone disturbed her from her sound sleep. Ana clicked her tongue in annoyance and angrily grabbed the phone from the night stand.
"Damon, to what do I owe this bloody torture?" Rang Ana's angry British voice as Damon flinched on the other side.
"Right, I'm sorry to disturb you at 11 in the morning, Miss Blair." Damon said, mimicking the voice of a servant. Ana frowned and opened her eyes, only to be met with darkness. She pulled off her sleep mask and flinched as bright sunrays hit her honey brown eyes.
"Sorry. You know how much I value my sleep. Get to the point." She said in a demanding voice. One thing Ana hated was when people were beating around the bush. Though she was Damon's best friend, her cold attitude was something he was used to.
Damon cleared his throat and made eye contact with Stefan, who was listening in with his arms crossed.
"So, there's this ball and um...I need a date." He said, nervously. Ana let out a huge scoff.
"Then compel yourself one. Is this why you disturbed me, Damon? You better get ready because I will send you to hell." She angrily barked over the phone as he flinched again. A strong arm gripped Ana's bare waist and pulled her towards his chest.
"Marcel? What the hell? Just because I rule New Orleans with you, doesn't mean we have to do king and queen things." Ana mumbled. Ana had met Marcel when she was in New Orleans in the twenties. They became best friends but Ana never let that friendship become something more. Even after no strings attached hook ups with him, she never grew feelings for him and vice versa. She was the Crescent city's self proclaimed queen and nobody dared to mess with her.
Ana hated the New Orleans witches since they always seemed to have shady motives. The only witch she loved whole heartedly was Davina Claire. She had been protecting the Claire witches since they were the only ones who helped her with her nightmares and whispers. The Claire line had given her herbs in the twenties thanks to Marcel. Only Claire witches were capable of growing those herbs from their magic. They were more like extremely strong herbal sedatives that blacked her out in the night.
"Hey! I didn't do anything. You came to me last night. Of course I wouldn't say no." Marcel replied, sitting up.
"A woman has needs." Ana simply replied, sitting up as well.
"You still hooking up with Marcel? Ana, really?" Rang Damon's voice again as she brought the phone close to her ear again.
"Like I said, I have needs. My heightened emotions make my needs very......needy." She replied, trying to find the right words.
"Eww! Gross. Ok, whatever. So, this ball isn't any ball. It's um...have you heard of the Mikaelsons?" Damon cautiously asked as a smirk formed on her lips at the name. Ana made eye contact with Marcel, who was practically pleading not to go with his eyes. But, Ana does what Ana wants.
"Miss Mae!" She called out as a mid aged woman with raven black hair and green eyes made her way inside the bedroom.
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