Lights Flicker And Fade : Kol Mikaelson [3]

285: Haunter of Ruins

a/n: yall...lmao I'm so sorry. I genuinely edited this chapter in like Jan ready to go but my god this year

Tbh, I had a cursed end to 2026 and the start of this year has been fantastic (bar like two things), but my god it's been busy / emotionally a lot. Peak 20s mess , heartbreaks, holidays, family stuff - Anywaayyyyy , also sorry as this is like a part 1 of 3 chapter too, but it's got some gems in it x

Love you all
- Bea

With context, the position they were in was inherently a little wrong...maybe...Marcel wasn't sure. Hell, in 1991, he hadn't had context, sitting on the edge of a water fountain, trickles beginning to appear as colour melted into the sky, lighter and lighter shades of pink turning blue. Their warning that it was time to stop. Soon, the city would be awake, and though some would claim it always was, they'd found a hole in time that made an exception. Ana Ruiz could sit in her running gear, a Walkman clipped to her waist, headphones tucked around her neck, hair released from a ponytail, cascading around her face in frizzing curls.

Her eyes may have been brown, but they seemed to reflect the sky, that lightness captured in their corners, almost yellow.

Yellow-brown eyes, warm skin, a messiness that matched the foliage, like she might've crawled out of the souls of those trees. Marcel wouldn't have been surprised if she had. He was still figuring her out – maybe that was the issue? Every time he felt closer, he got stuck in that loop of 'what is you?' Not who, but 'what.' What was Ana when she was tired. What was something that would make her laugh, and why did it make her laugh, and how would it tell him about the music she'd listen to, and the clothes she'd wear, until he'd be bold enough to go 'this reminded me of you.' The park reminded him of her. The trees reminded him of her. The air.

"It's good to know the baby's officially safe," Ana glanced away as his eyes lingered, "Though Deveraux got a visit from some angry dogs."

"I didn't realise you hated them that much."

"I don't know if it's hate," She sighed back, letting her nails tap against the stone ledge, "Maybe, some primal rivalry."

Marcel couldn't help but smile at the gleam in the phrase.

She was in double-layered black gym shorts and a seemingly knitted jumper; the material looked too light to be wool, and deliberately crafted to have gaps until it was practically see-through, sports bra clear beneath it. Nothing like the typical floating skirts, and shirts, and layers of jewellery he'd grown used to, then again, she had been on a run. And, the change certainly matched his shorts and sleeveless workout hoodie.

Not that they had any reason to match.

"Because you're a shifter," He recited, "Once a month, you turn into something, and you won't tell me what."

"Not like a werewolf," She waved a hand, "It's not some curse; Floare can simply, sometimes, rarely, become something else."

He risked a smirk, "Isn't that your whole thing?"

The fact they'd started to hear water meant the park was going to open to the public, though, that didn't really mean anything. With how underfunded their city parks were, a lot of people actually went out of their way to avoid them on non-holidays. However, it meant she'd push up to leave.

"Ana Ruiz, something else."

She laughed, "And yet I've never done it."

He tried to seem calm, nodding along with the nugget of information, "You said..."

"I've tried," She mused, "Alas..."

A moment of hesitation danced across her features, a hand dipping back into that water.