Nobody can get everything they ask for. Ok, not entirely true. Katrine could get anything she wanted with a bat of those pretty little eyelashes. But it didn't give her what she really wanted; a family, a friend, a lover, anything.
She has sailed across oceans, crossed several borders, and been to thousands of cities, but she never once did find someone who truly understood and loved her for who she was. They wanted only one thing from her: immortality. Naturally, she killed all those worthless pieces of rubbish. She's a Petrova, what do you expect?
I entered my apartment, throwing my keys on the table. I opened the fridge and grabbed a bloodbag, slightly weakened by the amount of vervain/whiskey I had consumed. I ripped off the cap, hungrily draining the plastic holder of all the delicious red liquid. There, nice and strong again. I took off my heels, trading them for some comfortable black flats.
I walked out of my apartment, new strength seeping back into my body. I walked down the sidewalk, through the town square, and into the Mystic Grill. Dustin turned deathly pale as I sat down at the bar for the second time today. "Back already?" Dustin let out a nervous laugh. "I just couldn't stay away." I said, playing the 'innocent girl' card. "What will you be having?" Dustin asked. "Another whiskey, and Dusty, remember what I said." I growled the last part. He nodded like crazy, practically running to get my alcohol.
I sighed contentedly, happy that I now had the little human tending to all my alcohol-based needs. He knew better than to cross me now. I was pulled out of my thoughts by a glass hitting the bar. "Here you go." He said, not smiling like a pervert. "Oh, come now, Dusty. Don't look so down. I won't hurt you." I said. He look relieved, color rushing back to his face, "You won't?" "Not yet, at least. But of you try to expose me..." I let the threat hang, leaving him to imagine all the horrible things I could do to him.
"Got it. Stay on your good side." Dustin nodded. "I don't have a good side." I said, sipping my drink, happy when I noticed it was vervain free. Dustin turned pale again, shuffling away from me. "Well, hello there." A man smirked, suddenly sitting next to me. Baby vamp, I've got no time for your games. "Nice jacket." I commented, still sipping my whiskey. "Aren't you a little young for that?" He asked, pointing at my drink. "I'm 467 years old. I get a free pass, alright?" I snapped.
"Ooh, fiesty. I like that. I don't share it, but I like it!" He said, provoking me. "Who are you, baby vamp?" I asked, not really interested. "Damon. Damon Salvatore." He smirked, like he was some kind of legend. "Well, Damon, I'm 300 years older than you, so I suggest you leave me alone." I said, giving him my own crooked smirk.
He grabbed his drink and stalked away, clearly not used to rejection. I turned around, boredly watching the people in the grill. A person stepped in front of me, casting a shadow over the bar. "Is this seat taken?" He asked, a British accent obvious in his voice. "No..." I said, turning around and waving over Dusty. He grabbed the whiskey bottle and filled my glass. "Thanks, Dusty." I gave him a cold smile.
"What will you have?" Dusty asked the British man. "Scotch." He replied. "Hey, Dusty!" I called. "Yeah?" He looked back, fear in his eyes. "Remember what I said. None of that stuff in anyone's drink." I said, glaring at him. He understood and nodded. "Stuff? You mean vervain?" The British man asked. "Good for you.You figured it out." I said, unenthuisastically. "I'm Klaus. Klaus Mikaelson." He said, smirking at me. "Ah, the pyschotic hybrid that has been hunting my mother for 500 years. How nice." I muttered. "And who is your mother?" Klaus asked, confused. "Katherine Pierce." I replied, not looking at him.
"You're the devil's spawn? You look much different than I imagined." Klaus said, looking me over. "Aww, you thought about me? How sweet." I said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Fiesty, are we?" He asked, bringing his drink to his lips. "Oh, honey, you have no idea." I said, looking to take in features. He had short, curly light brown hair, emerald green eyes, and tanned skin. He wasn't that bad-looking, if we're being honest.
"See something you like?" Klaus asked, his smirk widening. "Nope." I said, popping the 'p'. I downed the rest of my drink and stood up. "Leaving so soon?" Klaus mock pouted. "Don't pout. It doesn't look good for a man of your age." I said, walking away. I made sure to sway my hips a little more on my out.
