He was the monster they warned her about.
And she loved him anyway.
Daniella Lockwood was never supposed to fall for Klaus Mikaelson. But somehow, between stolen glances, late-night painting sessions, and the gentle way he said her name, she did. Co...
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TW- ED
Daniella had spent the night with Jeremy, which wasn't unusual. She was often at the Gilbert house—she and Jeremy were inseparable. Their bond was strong, undeniable, and everyone knew they were each other's person.
There were times people speculated they might have feelings for each other, but those suspicions eventually faded. They acted more like siblings than anything else. Daniella had Dylan, and her energy with him was completely different. If there had ever been any truth to Jeremy possibly liking her, it had long been buried under a truly genuine friendship.
Jeremy had already been awake for a while. Elena had told him what happened, since he was confused when Daniella laid down next to him. At first, he assumed Elena had called her to help after his breakdown the night before. He hadn't wanted that. But once he found out Daniella's dad had died, all of that faded. He just felt terrible for her.
Eventually, Daniella woke up—confused at first about where she was. Then everything came flooding back.
The hospital.
Her father.
Gone.
She hadn't fully processed it last night. She'd cried until exhaustion won, but it hadn't really hit her yet. The idea that her father was dead felt unreal.
This wasn't supposed to happen—not to her.
It brought her back to the night Jeremy's parents died. She remembered staying by his side all night, not believing it was real.
Back then, she thought things like that only happened in movies.
And ever since, the fear of losing her parents had never left her.
Now, that fear had become real.
Jeremy noticed her stirring and got up from the chair, moving to sit beside her on the bed. He didn't know what to say. He remembered how much he hated being asked how he was, so he didn't ask her.
"What time is it?" she asked, her voice small and strained.
"Almost eleven. Do you need anything? I brought water." He handed her the cup from the nightstand. "Want to talk?"
She took a sip before replying. "Do you know what happened? Why did so many people get hurt last night?"
Jeremy hesitated. He knew exactly what had happened—but she didn't. And part of him wanted to tell her, but he knew it would only drag her into something she didn't need to be involved in. Not right now.
"Where's my phone?" she asked, looking around. He handed it to her, and she scrolled through a few messages from Dylan and Tyler.
