𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 ⚜️ ELIJAH MIKAELSON

[ The Butterfly ]

CHAPTER 30
[ New Orleans, 2013 ]

The faint morning light streamed into the room, casting soft, golden hues on the bed where Georgia lay. She stirred, her hand instinctively reaching for the spot beside her—a space that was usually filled with Elijah's warmth, his steady presence the first thing she felt every morning. But the sheets were cold, untouched.

Her eyes fluttered open, and the realization hit her immediately: Elijah hadn't come back.

She sat up slowly, her chest tightening as she looked around the room. The air felt heavier, the silence deafening in a way it hadn't been before. Normally, she would wake up tangled in his arms, his steady breathing grounding her in a way nothing else could. But this morning was different.

Georgia ran a hand through her hair, her mind racing as she pieced together the events of the previous night. Elijah's outburst, the storm of his grief and anger unleashed, and the fear she had seen in his eyes before he fled. She knew him well enough to understand why he had left.

Elijah wasn't pushing her away. He was holding himself back.

It was something he had done time and time again, even in the earliest days of their relationship. Whenever the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, he would retreat, locking himself away behind carefully constructed walls. He thought he was protecting her from the darkness within him, but all it ever did was create a void—one that left her feeling lost and helpless.

Sliding out of bed, Georgia wrapped herself in a robe and made her way out of the room. She moved through the compound on instinct, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floors. Her heart ached with the knowledge that Elijah was likely out there somewhere, suffering alone, because he didn't know how to let her in.

Her steps carried her toward the study, where she hesitated for a moment before pushing open the door.

To her surprise, the room had been restored. The books were neatly shelved, the shattered glass swept away, and the desk cleared of debris. The only sign of the previous night's chaos was the faint tension that still lingered in the air.

And sitting in the center of it all, in a high-backed chair with a glass of whiskey in hand, was Klaus.

"Good morning, little witch," he drawled, his tone dripping with amusement. "You look positively radiant. Did you sleep well?"

Georgia raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorway. "Oh, just perfectly. Nothing like waking up alone to start your day off right."

Klaus smirked, his sharp eyes glinting with mischief. "Ah, yes. The ever-elusive Elijah. I assume he's off somewhere brooding. It's one of his more charming habits."

Georgia stepped further into the room, her arms still crossed as she surveyed the study. "I see you've made yourself comfortable."

"Someone had to," Klaus replied, his tone mockingly serious. "This room was in shambles. Frankly, I'm impressed Elijah left it standing at all. He must have been holding back."

Georgia shot him a look. "Funny. Do you always make jokes when your brother is falling apart?"

"Only when they're this good," Klaus quipped, though his smirk softened slightly as he gestured for her to sit. "Come now, love. Sit with me. Let's have a chat, shall we?"

Reluctantly, Georgia moved to the couch across from him, her legs folding beneath her as she perched on the edge. Klaus watched her with an infuriating mix of curiosity and amusement, his glass of whiskey dangling lazily from his fingers.