MEMORIES ▷ KOL MIKAELSON [1] [COMPLETED]

𝟎𝟐. 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄

(CHAPTER TWO:
COME DINE WITH ME)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

"WHAT THE HELL DAMON? I am not going to play human for some pathetic Come Dine With Me fantasy of theirs." I had started to rant, enraged by the suggestion alone of attending the dinner party. Not only did it sound incredibly tacky, I had zero faith in Damon's scheming skills. "I won't—no, can't—play nice with Klaus and Elijah. I'd practically be a liability." I reasoned, my voice rising to be far louder than I ever intended for it to be.

Although Damon was unamused, he snorted in efforts to indulge me. "Undaggering his siblings is not exactly 'playing nice' now." He defended roughly, exhausted from all the times I persisted that he was being weak by submitting to the Originals. "You're overreacting, per usual. We'll fake make our peace and make a swift exit once the entire clan arrives." He rolled his eyes, implying I was overthinking the entire situation. Something I profusely disagreed with.

"I wasn't even invited." I reminded him plainly. "Why should I have to come?" I proceeded to whine, folding my arms over my chest harshly.

Per usual, the Salvatore ignored my insistent ramblings, much preferring to drink himself raw in Bourbon. First, it was one glass. Gone. Then, two. Gone. Soon enough, he was on his second bottle. Gone. Furious at his ignorance, I yanked the glass out of his steady grip, resulting in his typically blue eyes to grow dark, a raging storm brewing inside of them. That was when I realised that I shouldn't have touched his alcohol.

"Don't touch the Bourbon and don't think I give a damn about your opinion." He hissed venomously, the words spiked with the most deadly poison. "Sure, we had fun in the past, but you've become such a Saint this century, Lottie. How prude." Damon continued to snarl, unimpressed by the 'new me.' In truth, I had changed for the better, my bloodthirsty ways were hazardous. "Now, you can either find the impulsive vampire I plucked off the streets or I'll drop your body into the ocean. How do you feel about the Atlantic?" He hummed, the menace that lurked in his tone becoming more prominent with every unkind word.

"Atlantic is bit of a cliché." I mused, refusing to be intimidated by my long time best friend. "I much prefer the Pacific." I remarked bravely, my body suddenly falling stiff before the two of us could bicker further. Paralysed, memories overwhelmed me once more—they tended to attack at the most inconvenient of times.

✧࿐ ཾ✧

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS [1922]

Exhilarating. In a word, Chicago was exhilarating. It was electric, the decade and the city. According to my humbled opinion, the roaring twenties were off to a fantastic start and were an amazing time to be alive—or, technically speaking, undead. To begin with, the idea of roaming the world, forever alone, was daunting, but the thought became more tolerable as I had new experiences. There was the opportunity to live in different eras, meet different people. Not that it was abominable to be a permanent teenager either since my body attracted prey and didn't have the limits of a matured body too. Overall, life was good and I was thriving.