𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔，Elijah Mikaelson【𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍】

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

2012.

"Where's your invitation?"

The woman smirked, blinking innocently at the guard. "I gave it to you, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't—"

She whistled a small, divine tune, her fingers grazing the air. Instantly, the guard's expression shifted, entranced by the melody.

Such an entrancing tune, he thought.

The man found himself smiling, almost hypnotically, as he gestured for her to enter. "I remember now, ma'am. I apologise for the inconvenience."

She nodded graciously, a smirk tugging at her lips as she passed him, handing her coat to a waiting man inside.

Her dark blue eyes danced over the elegant guests in their gowns and suits, making her entrance impossible to ignore.

Click. Click. Click. Her heels echoed through the room, heads turning to follow her every step. The trance would fade, but she had their attention.

"What can I get you, pretty lady?" The bartender smirked, his eyes already taking inventory of her.

She rolled her eyes. "A dirty martini."

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Didn't think you were a vodka gal."

"Assumptions could get you bitten by wild animals these days, sugar." Her eyes pierced his with a challenge.

Before he could answer, a poised voice cut in.

"I believe the lady asked you for a drink," Elijah Mikaelson's tone was smooth but firm, narrowing his eyes at the bartender. "The proper thing to do is make it. Quietly."

The bartender blinked, caught off guard. "Yes, Mister Mikaelson."

Her gaze shifted to the man standing near her. "Mikaelson," she mused, her smile almost playful. "This your party, Mister Mikaelson?"

His eyes caught hers—blue and steady, with a flicker of something that might have been both curiosity and caution. He couldn't help but notice the faint, almost golden ring around her pupils, or the dimple that appeared with her smile. She was barely a few centimetres shorter than him, making her appear even taller with her heels, and the confidence in her stride was undeniable.

"Family's." He corrected, raising a hand. "Elijah Mikaelson. A pleasure, Miss...?"

She paused, a beat of hesitation before she threw out the first name that came to mind.

"Natasha." A smirk curled at the corner of her lips. "Natasha Romanova."

Internally, she grimaced. Really? The Black Widow?

"Natasha Romanova," he repeated, testing the name. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it.

Before the conversation could continue, Elijah's focus was broken as he heard footsteps ascending the stairs.

"I'll be right back," he said, his voice apologetic. "But I'd like to ask you for a dance when I return."

"Then ask," she challenged, her voice light as her martini arrived.

His smirk flickered as he walked away, glancing back once, but he didn't ask.

"Uh-huh," Natasha hummed, taking a sip of her drink. "Don't worry, I'll be here when you finally ask."

He left, with much more hesitance than he expected.

Natasha sipped her drink as she studied everyone around her whilst Elijah spoke.