"ɪ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴀʏ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴀᴠɪɴɢ ɢʀᴀᴄᴇ."
~~~
Grace Mikaelson seems to think her days of helping her family are over, until a mysterious phone call from her uncle sends her entire world spiralling. Even when her family seems to be fal...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
chapter five - "smells like teen spirit"
...
"I'm just saying, Aunt Bekah, I just don't think he would just ditch us like that," Grace said, as they approached the Salvatore house.
The house, better yet the mansion, was a grand sight. The girls trudged across the sweeping driveway which was lined with oak trees that swayed in the gentle breeze. Rebekah strutted along with her heels and armfuls of shopping bags, whereas her niece trudged behind her, her hands in her pockets. She didn't like the idea of staying here, but she refused to leave her family again.
"He's Nik, what else do you expect?" her aunt replied, flipping her blonde hair from her face.
"No," persisted Grace with a frown, "There must've been a reason."
She knew that her uncle would rather die than leave her in danger. Grace had rung his cellphone twenty-seven times, every time it went straight to voicemail. Dread had settled in the pit of her stomach, something was clearly wrong.
The pair stopped and Grace knocked sharply on the towering mahogany doors. The door clicked open and there stood the raven-haired Salvatore.
"Grace," Damon greeted, although his expression quizzical.
"Damon," she fake-smiled, before swiftly moving around him and entering the house, Rebekah already ahead of her.
"Where's Stefan?" Rebekah said, stepping past the man.
"Who the hell are you?" Damon asked Rebekah, confused as to why two Original vampires were in his house.
The living room smelt so strongly of sweat and blood that Grace gagged with disgust. Dead bodies were carelessly littered across the floor, blood smeared across the walls and floors. In the middle of the room was a group of giggling girls who appeared to be playing a bloodstained 'Twister'. Stefan sat upon the sofa, displeased with the fact Grace and Rebekah had barged into his home.
"He left us here," Rebekah said incredulously, "My brother actually left us here."
"Oh, sorry. Your tone implies that I'm supposed to care," Stefan replied.
Grace was not in the mood for bad manners, she didn't care if his humanity was off or not.
"I put up with you for days, to which you irritated me to the ends of the earth. I could've easily tore your head off," Grace snapped, her eyes flickered silver, "But I didn't. So at least have the decency to show me some manners."
Stefan raised his hands in surrender. He knew better than to witness the wrath of her rage.
"You're Klaus' sister?" Damon asked, pointing to the blonde.
"Rebekah, a pleasure, I'm sure," she brushed off, before she turned to Stefan, "Which ones are our rooms?"
"You're not staying here," Stefan chuckled, dryly.
