war of hearts

ch.3

Furious yet intrigued, Marcel watched as Klaus entered the compound, flanked by two men carrying a casket, wearing that same old smug expression. "I brought a valuable gift," he quipped, a playful glint in his eye.

"What games are you playing at now, Klaus?" He asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

"No games this time," He assured him, sounding sincere enough.

Marcel approached the casket, his curiosity piqued. And as he lifted the lid, his initial surprise quickly morphed into a wide smile.

"We started off on the wrong foot," Klaus began, his voice smooth. "I mean to make amends."

He glanced at Klaus, a smirk playing on his lips. "Did Elijah willingly step into that coffin?"

The hybrid chuckled, closing the distance between them. "Not exactly," he replied with a mischievous grin. Placing a firm hand on Marcel’s shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze, he added, "See, I was hoping that we could become friends again, much like the old days."

Marcel’s smile remained, though his eyes held a hint of skepticism. "Yeah, maybe."

Marcel was no fool, trust didn’t come easily, especially with Klaus. The latter’s expression grew more serious as he mentioned, "There’s one more mistake I need to fix."

Marcel raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly. "I’ve been waiting for you to say that."

----------

The second Klaus stepped into the room, all eyes were on him. He could sense their hostility, not that he cared. But his eyes fell on her the moment he entered.

There she sat on a rocking chair, her demeanor calm and detached. Unlike everyone else, there was no hostility in her gaze, as if he were someone of no consequence. The indifference in her eyes irked him more than any of the hostile glares. It was odd seeing her sitting comfortably among all those vampires.

Marcel’s voice broke the tension. "Klaus and I, as you all know, go way back. He realizes his mistake and he means to fix it."

The room remained skeptical, the men still wearing expressions of disgust.

Marcel’s speech felt demeaning to Klaus, who quickly interjected. "I intend to earn everyone's trust, starting now."

Hayley toyed with her moon-shaped necklace, watching intently as Klaus approached the sick vampire's bed. She noted the hint of sensuality in everything he did, from the way he gently raised Diego's head to biting into his own hand and bringing it to Diego’s dry lips.

The transformation was immediate, Diego's pallor fading as Klaus’s blood revived him.

He turned for a split second, his eyes meeting hers. She lightly pouted, almost as if disapproving of his actions.

She watched as he whispered something to Marcel, who responded with a smile.

The moment he was out the door, she rose from her chair. "Wait," she called out.

He turned around, irritation flickering in his eyes, as he watched her make her way down the stairs.

"What schemes are you up to?" she demanded.

Klaus smirked at the very true accusation. "Schemes? I wouldn’t dare."

Hayley was now just a step away from him, towering slightly on the stairway. "God, you’re such a pretentious fuck," she snapped.

He held back a laugh. "I expected you to be happier that your friend will live," he said, emphasizing the word friend. She caught his meaning.

"He’s not a friend," she retorted. "On the contrary, I don’t like him."

Klaus, curious, asked, "Why, if I may?"

Hayley tilted her head, a move that amused him as he watched her intently. "He’s never truly accepted my… nature."

Klaus looked away, feeling a pang of sympathy. He knew better than anyone what it was like to be rejected. Leaning closer, he asked, "Then why stay if you’re not welcome?"

"I have nowhere else to go," Hayley said. "Not everyone is as privileged as you."

A glint of understanding in his eyes, he responded, "You might find I'm not so bad if you got to know me."

"I’m not so sure," she said, and he grinned slightly.

"I intend to stay awhile, so I’ll be around," he asserted, placing a hand on the newel post at the bottom of the staircase.

At the indirect declaration of protection, she smiled. "I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid." Proud, much like himself, he noticed.

"Well I’ll be nearby if you ever change your mind," he stated before leaving.

Hayley watched his every movement carefully as he walked away.

There was something about him she found irresistible. He was quite charming, she couldn’t deny. He exuded power, a true leader.

These were qualities she had only seen in Marcel so far.

Like father, like son, she thought to herself before heading back upstairs.