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❝ this—all of this—is the world you created, niklaus. ❞
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"WRITING A LOVE LETTER TO ONE OF YOUR MANY SUITORS?"
It is the phenomenon sometimes referred to as alienation from self. In its advanced states, we no longer answer the telephone because someone might want something; that we could say no without drowning in self-reproach is an idea alien to this game.
Every encounter demands too much, tears the nerves, drains the will, and the specter of something as small as an unanswered letter arouses such disproportionate guilt that one's sanity becomes an object of speculation among one's acquaintances. To assign unanswered letters their proper weight, to free us from the expectation of others, to give us back to ourselves—there lies the great, singular power of self respect. Without it, one eventually discovers the final turn of the screw: one runs away to find oneself, only they find no one at home.
The only place Enola felt at home these days was in the nursery. She had no patience for anyone some days. And this was one of those days. She sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room with a pad of paper placed delicately in her lap. Normally she could be found sketching. Today she could be found writing what Klaus so arrogantly thought was a love letter.
"You and I both know that you are my only suitor," Enola rolled her eyes playfully.
"Do you reckon Damon has finally given up?" Klaus teased.
"On me or Elena?" Enola quirked a teasing brow.
"Both?" Klaus hummed. "He has a fetish for Petrova doppelgängers."
"What does that say about you?" Enola quirked a teasing brow. "Tatia, was it?"
"Yes, but I have been with women besides Tatia." Klaus defended.
"How many?" Enola quirked a brow, wanting to know everything about the life Klaus had lived before he met her.
"I have had many conquests over the years, but I have only fallen in love a total of three times." Klaus confessed. "Love—true love—is a rare thing."
Enola smiled softly before grimacing slightly, catching the attention of Klaus almost immediately. Her hand fell down to her swollen stomach as he took a curious step forward. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. She looks so ethereal. Even when she was a mess.
