"Okay, black or red?" Annabel showed up at Diego's bedroom doorway holding up two dresses, one short and the other even shorter.
"Black," he said when he looked up from his laptop.
She left with a nod and, half an hour later, stood in front of her dresser with the black dress on, a white leather jacket and combat boots, her hair done up, her edges laid and makeup done. She slid her small wallet into her inside jacket pocket and walked over to Diego's room as she put on some gold hoops. "Alright, I'm ready," she said, standing outside his doorway.
Diego, who was standing out on the exterior balcony, turned around, and she said, "Tada," walking through his room and out to join him on the balcony. "Whatcha think?" she asked.
"I think I ain't gonna let you outta my sight." She looked down at her outfit and shrugged as he added, "You look gorgeous."
"See, you coulda just started with that..." she muttered, walking back inside after a particularly cold breeze scared her away.
"Lemme just get ready and then we can go," he insisted, and she looked at him, her mouth hanging open.
"I just- I spent half an hour getting ready, what the hell have you been doing besides creeping on tourists on the balcony?!"
"Five minutes," he said with a chuckle at her anger.
She sighed and walked downstairs and onto the couch, deciding to fill her time with some good ole temple run. "Come on!" she yelled precisely four minutes and fifty-eight seconds later. "Let's goooooo!"
Diego walked down the stairs, smirking as he said, "Anyone ever tell you you ain't got no patience?"
"I've heard it once or twice... Now can we go?"
He gestured his hand forward with a quiet chuckle, and she led the way out of the compound, excited to be back in New Orleans.
⋆⋆⋆
Everyone seemed to notice the pair walk into the karaoke bar in a deep discussion about their shared hatred of movie theaters. But when Diego looked back up at them, not appreciating their lingering stares, they all looked away, hastily going back to their conversations.
"Helloooo," Annabel said when she walked over to Marcel and Thierry, a big smile on her face as she kissed Marcel's cheek and said, "Where's the alcohol?"
Marcel stopped talking and looked at the girl, "How much coffee have you had today?"
"I don't know, like, four, five cups? Why? It's not noticeable, is it?" she asked with a smirk, knowing very well that her energy was off the charts compared to her usual self. "Irish whiskey please."
"I didn't realize you were an eighty-year-old white guy," Marcel muttered before ordering her drink.
Annabel rolled her eyes and looked around the bar, smelling the booze first, and the vampires second. She still found it odd, her new sense of smell. And her unhealthy coping mechanism of trying to forget she ever killed someone and triggered her curse in the first place wasn't gonna work if every time she walked in a room she could list someone's species, level of intoxication, and how well they brushed their teeth that morning.
"You hear Klaus is back in town?" Marcel asked when he handed Annabel her drink.
"Who do you think brought me here? I don't have that kinda gas money..."
He nodded, "Right, almost forgot you're BFFs with the Mikaelsons."
"Well, from what I hear, you were bffs with them too. But," she shook her head, "no, that couldn't be true. I mean, my loving, caring father couldn't have possibly been sleeping with Rebekah Mikaelson, right?" Annabel took a sip of her drink, noticing both Diego and Therry's look of shock while Marcel just looked a little murderous. But she held his glare as she finished her glass, eventually bursting out laughing at his predicament and facial expression.
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Fanfiction[book two] It had been just over ten years since Annabel called New Orleans home. Back then, her naivety kept her safe, clueless as to all the violence going on around her. But things had changed since then. She had changed. After graduation, Annabe...
