Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❝ you, whose eyes hold heaven's gate. ❞
❝ always and forever! ❞
· ° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
NEW ORLEANS, USA three weeks later
THE IDEA OF HOME as a place was absolute bullshit. A place held precious memories and traumatic events, a place had the power to evoke nostalgia, but it could never make you feel the exact feeling twice. For one Niklaus Mikaelson, home was a stunning brunette with eyes like whiskey and a smile that intoxicated him.
There was no one quite like Rosalie Monet, and after a thousand years, he still found reasons to fall invariably harder for her. How could he explain that every moment with her felt better than the last? How was it possible that his love for her felt overwhelming and comforting all at once?
Like the many sunrises before, his head was propped by his hand, the arm resting beside her head. While the other was over her collarbones, without putting weight on her. His fingers were burried in her hair, massaging her scalp in comforting circles. Nik had lost count of how long he'd been tracing her features with his gaze.
A gentle smile curved at the corners of his lips when she stirred between awakening and slumber.
"Can I ask why you're looking at me, Mr Mikaelson?" Her voice was still heavy with sleep, still tired from the night before.
"You're exceptional, Miss Monet."
She huffed, still getting used to his daily compliments. The brunette snuggled closer to his warmth, like a moth in awe of candlelight. For someone with murderous tendencies, he was far too cozy and cuddly.
"Why don't you let people see this side of you?" She said, caressing his cheek, his day-old stubble rough under her fingertips.
His eyes sparked with mirth. "I'd like to think this side of me is reserved for your eyes only, darling."
Rosalie rolled her eyes at his implication. "I mean, the side that's kind and happy. Everyone seems to know you as the Original Hybrid, someone to be feared."
"Do you fear me?" The question was supposed to be playful, but she could tell a part of him was genuinely worried about the answer.
She snorted, breaking the serious mood of the conversation. "I saw you wipe a tear watching Tangled last night, when you thought I was busy sobbing on my own."
