Splitting Our Odds Into Evens

321: Action

THE NEXT DAY...AT ROSSEAUS...

The bar was nearly empty this early in the morning.

Rebekah, Hayley, Marcel, Klaus, Elijah, and Davina were crammed around a table in the corner, a pitcher of mimosas untouched at the center.

Hayley checked her phone for the third time. "Okay. This is ridiculous. We've been here half an hour."

"Forty-two minutes," Rebekah corrected without looking up from her screen. "Kol's lucky he's proposing to Bonnie, or I'd already be gone."

Klaus leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "He's lucky he's proposing to Bonnie, or I'd already be gone. Some of us have better things to do."

Rebekah snorted. "Like glare at strangers from balconies and plot vague revenge? Riveting schedule, brother."

Klaus shot her a look sharp enough to cut glass but didn't bother responding. 

Davina sat quietly beside Marcel. 

She hadn't slept either.

She'd spent most of the night at the hospital with Landon, still on a love-struck high. When Kol and Bonnie never came home, she'd crashed on the couch, grimoires spread out around her, eyes burning as she reread incantations that might—might—turn Kol back into a vampire.

If he agreed. If she got the chance to tell him.

Marcel leaned slightly toward her. "D," he said quietly. "You okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Elijah cleared his throat. "I, for one, am glad he's finally decided to seal the deal."

Rebekah hummed in agreement. "They've been practically playing house since New Year's. I'm honestly shocked it's taken him this long."

Klaus scoffed. "He's known her for years. Dated her for three. And now she's carrying—"

"His heart," Rebekah cut in sharply.

The table went quiet for a second.

Klaus blinked, amused. "Right. His...heart."

Davina flinched. It was subtle, but she felt it all the way down to her spine. She looked around the table, catching the shared glances, the unspoken understanding.

What do they know that I don't? Because I know something they don't.

The bell over the door jingled.

Everyone turned.

Kol stumbled in, hair a mess, shirt half-buttoned like he'd given up somewhere between the door and the mirror. He looked wrecked—pale, tired, holding himself together by force. 

Act normal. Smile. Don't let them see it.

He constantly felt like he was in a movie set around them, being someone he wasn't. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets, steadying them.

"Sorry I'm late," he said, dropping into the empty chair between Marcel and Davina. "Morning traffic is hell. Especially when you're spiraling. I've been trying to get things together since six this morning."

"Charming," Klaus said dryly.

Kol ignored him. "Thanks for coming. I know it's early, but this couldn't wait."

"Spit it out," Hayley muttered.

Kol exhaled. "Alright. Here's the thing." He paused. "We're throwing another masquerade ball."