Perhaps it wasn't Murielle's finest moment when accidentally mispronouncing a spell had an unconscious Original landing slap-bang in the middle of her home. Though at first this mistake may have seemed horrible, it leads to a whirlwind of a life tha...
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"Niklaus can't find werewolves for shit." Was the first thing Finn said to her over the phone when Murielle had picked it up. At first she had thought the ringing to only be in her mind but when she tracked it down to a blurry small screen, she sighed with relief.
Her new phone was something she'd been learning to navigate in tandem with Finn. Elijah had been teaching her most of the basics but Finn had to deal with his brother's ridicule instead of help.
Finn had made no mention of him kissing her in any of their phone calls and Murielle wasn't all that eager to bring it up in a situation where she only had his voice to gauge whether he was being honest with her or not. This was their third phone call, on the third day since their parting.
In the background, Murielle could hear Niklaus grumbling back, "It has been three days."
She laughed at the two of them, who had been bickering to no end whenever she was on the phone with either of them. "Patience is a virtue, Finn."
"Believe me, I have patience, just not for my brother's incompetence." He retorted.
There was a loud sound before the phone seemed to clatter to the ground. A myriad of other noises filtered through for a while before finally Niklaus spoke to Murielle. His voice was louder and he had obviously come into possession of the phone. "Hello, Murielle, love."
She smiled, even though he could not see it. Just how much she did enjoy his company would be a secret kept to her alone, one that his ego was never to lay hands on. "Hello, Niklaus. Should I be worried about what you've done to Finn?"
"Why worry about Finn when you could focus your thoughts on our scintillating conversation?" His smirk was practically audible, each word laced with his usual smooth tone. Like he was the secret sixth member of the Rat Pack. Whenever Niklaus spoke to Murielle, his tone always brought her back to smoke-filled bars and lit up stages with a suited man singing into a microphone. It made her feel as though she balanced a glass of alcohol within her hands, sitting at her small table and staring up to the singer, whose eyes looked right back as he sang the most heartfelt of songs. His words were always a romantic seduction, poised to captivate its audience.
And it always took effort to focus on the words and not their melody enough to form a normal reply. It helped, this time, that the backing track was Finn's low grumbling that was barely picked up by the phone's microphone.
"It's barely begun."
"Any conversation with you is brilliant." Him and his words.
Murielle rolled her eyes. "Don't butter me up to try and ask about my immortality."
Yet another constant throughout their phone calls was Niklaus's persistent interest in how exactly she was able to not die. He had professed a desire to know all the ins and outs of her curse. Knowledge that, judging by the tone of his voice, would not be of a kind that Murielle was willing to divulge.
