Vampire Diaries Imagines

Getting Through - Kol Mikaelson

I sat alone in the house that once felt like home but no longer did. The walls, once filled with laughter and warmth, now suffocated me with silence. Every room was a reminder of what I had lost-of the people who once filled this space with life but were now gone. The weight of it all pressed down on me, a cruel and constant ache that I couldn't shake.

Everyone else's world kept turning, as if nothing had changed. But mine had. I was frozen in grief, trapped in a moment that had already passed, yet refused to let me go.

I should have expected him.

Kol always had a way of knowing when I needed someone, even when I didn't say a word. He moved through the house like a whisper, his presence felt before I even saw him.

"Darling," his voice was soft, careful, as if he knew I might shatter at any moment.

I didn't look up right away. I couldn't. I was afraid that if I met his gaze, the dam would break, and there would be no stopping the flood.

But he never rushed me. He never pushed.

Kol had always been different with me-gentle, patient in a way he wasn't with others. He had a reputation for chaos, for blood and mayhem, but with me, there was none of that. Just warmth. Just him.

"I knew I'd find you here," he continued, stepping further into the room. He leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets, as if he belonged here. As if he had always been a part of this home.

I let out a breath, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes weren't filled with pity-he knew better than to give me that. Instead, there was understanding, a quiet kind of knowing that settled something deep inside me.

I swallowed hard. "I don't know how to do this, Kol." My voice was barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to keep going."

His expression softened. In a heartbeat, he was in front of me, crouching so that we were eye level. "Then don't." His fingers brushed against mine, cool and grounding. "Don't force yourself to move on if you're not ready. Let yourself grieve. Let yourself break."

A shudder ran through me. My walls were crumbling, piece by piece, and I was helpless to stop it.

And then he pulled me in.

His arms wrapped around me, strong and steady, holding me together when I felt like I was falling apart. He didn't tell me it would get better. He didn't offer empty promises. He just held me, letting me exist in the space where the past still lingered, where my grief still clawed at me.

"I've got you, love," he murmured against my hair.

I closed my eyes, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. He was here. And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel so lost.

Kol held me close, his grip unwavering as if he feared I might slip away entirely if he let go. And maybe he was right. I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take. The silence. The loneliness. The unbearable ache of missing people who were never coming back.

I had never been good at asking for help, at admitting when I was drowning. But Kol had never needed me to say the words. He just knew.

After a moment, he pulled back, just enough to look at me, his hands resting gently on my arms. His eyes, usually filled with mischief and a wicked sort of delight, were softer now.

"Come away with me," he said, his voice low but certain.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Let's leave, love. Just you and me." He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my skin. "Anywhere you want to go, we'll go. However long you need. You don't have to sit here to get through this. Wherever you want to go to heal in your own time."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Kol-"

"I mean it." He cupped my face, tilting it up so I couldn't look away. "You tell me where, and I'll take you there. Someplace new, someplace quiet, someplace that doesn't hurt." His thumb brushed against my cheek, the ghost of a touch. "I'll be there when you need me. For as long as you need me."

The weight of his words settled over me, filling the cracks in my chest. I wanted to protest, to tell him I'd be fine, that I could handle this on my own. But the truth was, I wasn't fine. I hadn't been fine for a long time.

I exhaled shakily. "Anywhere?"

A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. "Anywhere."

The idea of leaving hadn't crossed my mind before. I had convinced myself I had to stay here, in the ruins of my old life, because leaving felt like running. But now... now I wasn't so sure. Maybe this wasn't running. Maybe it was survival.

I let my eyes drift past him, to the house that no longer felt like home. To the memories clinging to the walls like ghosts. Maybe I needed to leave to finally breathe again.

When I looked back at him, he was still watching me, waiting.

"Paris," I said, surprising myself with the answer. "I always wanted to go to Paris."

Kol grinned, his eyes flickering with something lighter, something almost excited. "Paris, it is."

And just like that, the decision was made.

I didn't know if running away would fix anything. I didn't know if it would make the pain any less suffocating. But I did know one thing-if anyone could make me feel alive again, it was Kol Mikaelson.

And for now, that was enough.