"He was a boy who loved to play with fire and she was his perfect match"
Ophelia Davern is haunted by death but maybe the infamous Klaus Mikaelson can silence the screams.
[DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE ORIGINALS I ONLY OWN MY CHARACTER OPHELIA DAVER...
T W O : L I E S A R E A G I R L S B E S T F R I E N D
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As soon as Ophelia had risen from her supernatural induced sleep, she had scrambled up form the hard wood floor and ran to her room. She had dragged her suitcase and had began to chuck items on there, now she couldn't even recall what she had packed and what she hadn't, she had been in such a rush to help her friend.
It was when she was seated in the back seat of a taxi at eight in the morning that the betrayal had set in, before it had been over shone by the worry that had brewed in her chest for her closest friend. It had taken her a while to find a taxi that didn't tell her to get out of their car when she requested the three hour trip to new Orleans, it had taken five one-hundred dollar bills to be waved in the drivers face before he had said yes. The first hour of the journey had been spent with Ophelia's knees bobbing up and down in no particular pattern as her nervousness shone through as she absentmindedly picked at the chipping green nail polish.
It was during the second hour that Ophelia realised that Hayley had lied to her, a white lie she would have looked past, after all they are a part of the supernatural girl's vocabulary but this was something bigger, this was a planned out lie that had to have been thought about, and Hayley had deliberately lied to her face, consequently endangering herself in the process. It was supposed to be them against the world, but Ophelia was now facing a reality that may not include Hayley, just because of the girls lying.
That's when the guilt kicked in. Had it been her fault? Had she unknowingly pushed the girl away? Or even made her feel like she would have to keep something from her? What if she couldn't get to her In time? Even if she managed to locate Hayley, she didn't have claws or fangs, just one hell of a pair of lungs. Sure, Hayley had been adamant on giving her lessons on self defence and even though she was one hell of a harsh teacher, Ophelia had never fought someone for real, someone who wanted to stain their hands with her blood.
In the third hour Ophelia had decided that the way to go about this was clinically, unattached, so that her emotions wouldn't claw away at her from her insides and ruin her chances of finding the girl.
Now as Ophelia stood from the taxi, four hours after getting in it, everything felt so much more real. As the taxi driver went around the vehicle to retrieve her bags, she soaked in the atmosphere. Jazz music filled the open air as people shuffled on by down the streets, some carried on walking till they were out of her sight but some went into tiny shops or market stalls, a young girl even stepped foot into a voodoo shop. "Witches." Ophelia mumbled, quietly to herself, her lips pulled taught.
A clearing of a throat caught her attention, her taxi driver stood beside her, her suitcase at his side. "Thanks." She spoke, pulling out the five one-hundred dollar bills as she spoke. "Keep the change." She smiled before turning to get her suitcase, Hayley was paying her back for this when she found her, so why not give the guy a tip.
