PLS DONT READ THIS IT ONLY FOR ME THANK YOU

LOST LOVE

Destiny was a tough mistress, fate a cruel heartless bitch. Elena Mikaelson drew the conclusion as she stared steadfastly at the long timber box being loaded on board of the small jet in front of her, all that remained of her five years of marriage, the broken and twisted body of her husband Kol being flown from America back to the Mikaelson estate for burial in the family plot.

'Elena.'

She didn't want to turn to the owner of that rich baritone voice, didn't want him here at all, intruding in a moment that belonged completely to Kol and herself.

'For God's sake, Elena!'

She wanted to shout at him, she wanted to ask what the hell he was doing here. He had no right, no right to tread on the broken pieces of her happiness. She was holding herself with great difficulty. The memories of her loving husband were the only things that stopped her from giving herself completely to hysteria.

She finally turned as the doors closed on Kol's coffin, numbly facing the man who was responsible for dealing with the authorities to take the body of his younger brother to his native England. She had known he was in the country since they had found Kol's body, had known he was somewhere using that indomitable Mikaelson power to achieve what he desired, which in this case was the lifeless body of his brother.

Elijah Mikaelson. He hadn't changed at all in the last three years, lean and muscular despite being very close to his fortieth birthday, his burnished brunette hair styled just over his ears and down to his collar in a way designed to look casual, that very casualness indicative of its expensive cut. His arrogantly harsh face was lean, his eyes the color of darkest chocolate, his nose long and straight, his unsmiling mouth a forbidding line as ever. The tailored, dark three-piece suit and cream silk shirt pronounced him for exactly what he was, a successful businessman, and the epitome of sophistication.

She felt the first stirrings of shortfall she had felt in a very long time. He did that or rather his close proximity did that. Made her slow and incoherent, made her a fool she had been six years ago.

But none of her fears, her insecurities or her pain showed as she and Elijah faced each other across the tarmac, the black dress adding height and slenderness to the already slim body. The soft brown of her hair was pulled in a pony leaving her face bare, the dark brown depths of her eyes unadorned by anything but naturally long black lashes. Her beautiful mouth was unsmiling and she looked as if she hadn't smiled for months and indeed she hadn't.

And she didn't smile now, her gaze firm on that domineering face. 'Elijah,' she greeted coldly.

'Elena, you look—-'

'Like hell,' she drawled mockingly. She looked exactly what she was, a recently widowed woman.

Elijah looked annoyed, but the emotion was quickly controlled and masked. 'As usual, your presumption of what I was about to say was incorrect,' he bit out ruthlessly.

'Really?' she scoffed, turning to walk up the steps that led to the luxurious interior of the waiting jet, knowing the crew were merely waiting for them to come aboard before they obtained clearance to take off.

'You've changed, Elena.'

She stiffened in surprise. She hadn't thought he would answer. They never had anything to talk about. She didn't had anything she wanted to tell Elijah Mikaelson except for her curt answer.

'I'm twenty-four now, Elijah, not eighteen,' she answered dryly taking her comfortable seat in the lounge area.

Dark eyes flashed as Elijah angrily sensed her derision. 'I didn't just mean physically,' he rasped as the hostess April disappeared into the galley.