WAR OF HEARTS ↠ KOL MIKAELSON [1]

3:01

| THE AFTERMATH:
CHAPTER ONE |

"You know," Rhea said softly, her voice echoing faintly in the quiet apartment, "for a minute there, I thought I'd brought you back just so you could sleep for all of time."

She sat curled up in an oversized armchair near the window, a well-worn book draped over her lap, though she hadn't read a single word in the last twenty minutes. Her eyes had been fixed on Kol's motionless form, her heart twisting with each second he didn't stir.

But then he did. Slowly, groggily, Kol Mikaelson shifted under the sheets with a groan, dragging in a breath that sounded like it had traveled through centuries.

"Regenerating from ashes, darling," he mumbled, voice hoarse but laced with familiar mischief, "takes a hell of a lot out of a man."

He sat up carefully, every muscle in his newly-restored body stretching and recalibrating. Then, when he spotted her watching him with cautious hope, he added with a smirk, "But you and I both know my stamina is usually a lot more impressive."

Rhea rolled her eyes—classic Kol—but despite herself, a blush crept across her cheeks. A small laugh bubbled up in her throat, the sound tight with relief. He was here. He was whole.

Kol swung his legs over the edge of the bed and rose, walking toward her, slower than usual, but gaining confidence with each step. The light from the large bedroom window streamed across the floor, golden and unforgiving. He stopped at the edge of it, hesitant.

"You have no idea," he said quietly, "how badly I want to kiss you right now."

Rhea tilted her head, her smirk softening into something warmer. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Kol looked toward the sunlight with a grimace. Slowly, he lifted a hand into the beam, and his skin immediately hissed and smoked. He flinched, groaning at the pain, but didn't withdraw right away.

"I can take the heat," he muttered, teeth gritted, "if it means I get to kiss you." He finally yanked his hand away with a hiss, examining the healing burn, then added dryly, "But I don't think you'd be particularly thrilled if I accidentally burned your entire apartment down in the process."

Rhea's smile faded slightly as her eyes followed the angry red mark on his palm. She'd forgotten, for just a second, that Kol was an Original again—immortal, deadly, tethered to a bloodline that had brought ruin to too many people. She crossed her arms, the air around her shifting.

"Kol," she began cautiously, "when you were a witch... you were different. Lighter. Calmer. And now that you're back like this, I—"

Kol cut her off, stepping forward carefully. "You're worried I'll go back to being a psychotic maniac."

He wasn't wrong.

He gave her a small, understanding smile—something rare and unguarded that made him look impossibly young. "I know what you've seen. I know what I've done. My actions in the past... they weren't just reckless. They got me killed. And worse, they hurt you. Over and over. I watched you shatter when I died, and that's a memory I never want to live with again."