After 90 years of running, it had to come to an end. She found herself in Mystic Falls, a place she'd be dreading to go to but it was bound to happen. Luna Salvatore, the youngest Salvatore, arrived in Mystic Falls. Little did she know, her coming t...
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Luna found Marcel tucked into the furthest corner of the compound, wallowing with a bottle of whiskey as his only companion. Luna sat across from him, not saying a word. Her mind couldn't think of anything to say that would comfort him, 'Did Klaus send you here?' He said bitterly.
Luna frowned and waited for his gaze to meet hers, 'No. I'm here because I want to be.'
'I don't want you here.' He lied through his teeth, bringing the bottle to his lips.
'Are you lying?'
'Yes,' He admitted, running a hand over his face, 'I don't know what to do. You gotta tell me what to do.' He pleaded, his mind clouded by the memory of Davina's death.
'Grieve,' Luna began, making Marcel roll his eyes, 'You have nothing but time. You get to take as long as you need. Not to mention, anything can happen.'
'That's stupid. If the Harvest was gonna work it would've by now.' He refuted quickly, his head hanging low.
'No one ever really dies, Marcel. Especially the witches in this city. They're all crafty.' Luna sighed.
'Why are you talking about your kind like that? You're making fun of yourself.' Marcel reminded her, one brow raised.
Luna lifted a finger and shook it, 'Wrong. I'm a siphon, we're much better than witches.' Luna said, lowering her voice as if it was a crime to say.
Marcel shook his head and cracked a weak smile before his monotonous expression returned, 'You realise that ever since Klaus showed up, everything's gone to shit? Do you remember how we used to run this place? You helped me build this all up.' He reminded her with a clenched jaw.
She sighed and leaned back into her chair and stared at him seriously, 'You realise he's the father of my child? What do you expect me to do? Run away?'
'I don't think anyone would blame you if you did,' Marcel muttered before raising his voice slightly, 'But as my best friend, I expect you to sit here and listen to me bad-mouth him.' Marcel demanded matter-of-factly, chugging the whiskey.
Luna opened her mouth to object, 'Girl, I listened to you complain about his ass for 20 years, you can spare 20 minutes.'
Luna nodded, taking notice of his point that was too strong for her to refute in any way, 'Fine. But I expect this favour to be returned when he pisses me off.' She bargained, folding her arms over her chest.
'Alright, so same time tomorrow?'
*
Klaus rushed past Luna, who was going up the stairs, 'What's up with you?' She questioned.
He stopped on the step he was on and went up one, 'You remember Papa Tunde?' He sighed, looking up at her, anger evident on his face.
Luna hummed and frowned as her mind fished to put a memory to the name, 'The dude with the twins that Marcel and I killed?'
