𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐄 || 𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐉𝐀𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝟏𝟒.𝟎

[THE SUN ALSO RISES]

you are your home.

      JULIETTE WOKE UP TO the sound of someone humming. It was soft and low, the vibrations echoing in her ears as she drifted in and out of consciousness, like a faint memory. 

Her heart pounded, and for a split second, she thought she was back in Elijah's bed, sunlight beaming through the curtain, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her arm, his chest pressed up against her back as he nuzzled into the side of her neck. But then came familiar smells. Bourbon. Dust.

The air smelt off, it didn't smell like Elijah's cologne, and when she finally forced her eyes open, her vision blurring slightly as she blinked rapidly, she realised she was sitting on an armchair she didn't recognise.

A brown leather couch. A messy living room. Empty bourbon bottles on the counter. Bookshelves filled with.... History books?

Alaric's apartment.

Juliette blinked twice, confused, she tried to move her arms but couldn't. Looking down she realised her hands were tied with rope, tying her to the chair. "Great," the blonde muttered under her breath.

Her wrist ached and bruised as the hard rope rubbed against her skin, and the back of her head throbbed. But Juliette could not remember why.

There was no sign of her phone, her jacket, or Elijah.