"Oh good heavens, there has to be a spell for-"
"For what?"
Clara glanced up and saw Elijah standing in the doorway, hands in pockets, giving her a curiously suspicious look. She smiled and slammed the grimoire shut. She had told him about her dealings with Mary-Alice, just not about her saving Lucien. Sort of. He was saved, for a while. That's why she needed to find a spell to get him out and she needed to find it fast. But, until then, she'd keep the suspicion off her.
"Nothing, Elijah." Clara responded, calmly. "With this newfound ability, I've been a little obsessed with magic."
"I see." Elijah nodded, then he turned to walk away. Things have gotten so strained between the two of them. Even small conversations were painfully awkward.
"Wait," She walked over to join him, wherever he going. "I-I wanted to apologize... for Camille, and for missing her funeral." She lowered her gaze to the floor, suddenly overcome with a guilt and shame. "And for missing her wake. I don't think I can leave with you. It's my fault she's dead."
Elijah opened his mouth, then closed it, as if contemplating something; his fingers brushed the pocket of his jacket lightly. There was something he was hiding from her. After another moment in thought he sighed then, reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope with her name written on it. "Camille wanted you to have this."
"Elijah. Please give this to Clara. She needs to understand that I don't blame her." Camille paused and gave him a look. "And you shouldn't either."
"I don't-"
"You love her. I understand. But, she's loved Lucien since way before your family. Cut her some slack." Camille's tone was knowing but her voice was weak.
Elijah nodded and took the letter. He would do it for Camille.
"She did?" Clara took the letter in her hands, the paper felt heavy for some odd reason. With Elijah still standing there, she opened it and began to read it in a hushed tone.
Clara,
It wasn't your fault.
-Camille
Clara felt her knees wobble at the simple-- yet incredibly powerful-- words Camille left for her. She touch the wall hoping her knees wouldn't give out in front of Elijah. Weakness wasn't something she wanted to show in front of him. When she looked up at him he seemed worried but still distant. With a heavy sigh she gripped the letter tightly in her fingers and rushed out, ignoring his pleas to stay and talk. Ha! Now he wanted to talk? She scoffed and ignored him, quickly walking down the long steps of the Mikaelson Compound.
Though, as she stepped on the first step, something in Clara snapped. She spun around and walked back to Elijah, who had followed her out of the room. His eyes widened when he realized what she was doing, but didn't stop her. Next thing she knew, her lips were in his, kissing his as deeply as she could. His body felt warm against hers and his lips were soft, almost unsure of what he, she, was doing.
Elijah pulled away and smiled, amused. "What is going on in that little head of yours, Clara de Martel?"
"I don't know." Clara confessed. She rubbed her neck nervously. "I'm sorry- I'm just going to leave..." and she did disappear from sight. Fast for a little siphon.
Everyone had left for the Irish wake Cami had requested, when Clara left the confines of Rebekah's room. Why had she kissed Elijah? She pressed a hand on her forehead, then closed her eyes. "You're so stupid, Clara." Without paying attention, she ended up walking into the same room where she found Freya pouring blood into a bowl. Clara was going to say something but is interrupted when Kol walked into the room.
