ℍ𝔸𝕌ℕ𝕋𝔼𝔻 - ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴋᴀᴇʟꜱᴏɴꜱ

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞 𝖋𝖎𝖛𝖊

❧ stefan has a long list of victims ❧

≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫

The faint crackle of a turning page broke the gentle stillness of Amalie's apartment. She sat perched at the kitchen counter, one leg tucked beneath her, the other bouncing idly as her pen hovered over the half-finished crossword puzzle sprawled across the page in front of her. The warm light of the pendant lamps overhead bathed the space in a soft, golden glow, their faint hum blending with the distant whir of the AC.

To her left, a steaming mug of hot chocolate sat abandoned, the surface swirling faintly as wisps of steam curled into the air. Amalie tapped her pen against the marble, her brow furrowed in thought as she chewed on the inside of her cheek.

The sharp, insistent knock on the door broke her concentration.

Amalie sighed heavily, letting the pen clatter onto the counter with exaggerated dramatics. "Seriously?" She muttered to the empty room, glancing toward the door with reluctant irritation. Sliding off the stool, she padded toward the door in socked feet, the faint whisper of fabric against hardwood the only sound accompanying her.

She already had a guess as to who was on the other side. Elena, no doubt. She pulled open the door, already preparing herself for whatever plea or bargain awaited her.

But it wasn't Elena.

"Katherine," Amalie said, leaning casually against the doorframe as her gaze swept over the woman standing there. Her voice was smooth, practiced, but the flicker of surprise in her dark eyes betrayed her composure. "To what do I owe this...pleasure?"

Katherine stood just outside the threshold, framed by the dim hallway light like a painting. Every detail of her appearance seemed calculated, deliberate. Her dark curls spilled over her shoulders, framing her face. Her jacket was unzipped, revealing a deep red blouse that seemed to contrast against her skin. Her lips curled into that familiar, dangerous smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Let's just say I missed you, Moya Lyubov," Katherine purred, the endearment rolling off her tongue like silk.

Amalie raised a brow, her lips twitching into a faint smirk. She crossed her arms loosely over her chest, leaning more heavily against the doorframe. "Did your latest scheme fall apart already?"

Katherine gasped theatrically, a hand flying to her chest. "You wound me." Then, with the graceful ease of someone who had long since stopped asking permission for anything, she stepped forward, brushing past Amalie and into the apartment as though she owned it. Her fingers trailed fleetingly along Amalie's arm as she passed, featherlight and deliberate.

Amalie turned slowly, watching as Katherine shrugged off her cardigan and tossed it over the back of a chair without a second thought. "So," Amalie began, her arms still crossed as she leaned against the door, "what's the plan this time? Hiding out? Laying low? Or are you just here to ruin my morning?"

Katherine shot her a sly grin, sauntering toward the counter. "Why can't it be all of the above?" She quipped, her voice dripping with casual amusement.

Amalie opened her mouth to retort, but Katherine closed the distance between them in a blink. Her cool hands brushed against Amalie's shoulders, her touch as light as it was deliberate. The movement was casual enough to seem innocent. But Amalie knew better.