Devil's Angel ° {K.M}[Rewriting]

{043}

The Rager
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"Everything that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form."
—Franz Kafka
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America discarded the assignment she was attempting to do, sighing for what she was sure was the hundredth time in the hour as she turned to face Klaus. He sat across from her with his sketchbook open, pencil moving with intent. Though he didn't look up at her, his eyebrow arched in question. She leaned forward, elbows braced on her knees. "How serious is blood sharing? Is it taboo? Controversial?" The man's hand paused as he gazed up at her with furrowed brows. "What's brought on this line of questioning?" She pursed her lips, discarding the urge to tell a story of hypotheticals to save the brothers from ridicule.

No doubt Klaus would discover it later so there was no point in protecting them. "Damon fed Elena his blood and Stefan was pissed." Klaus' sudden bark of laughter caught her off-guard, the woman startling before frowning in the face of his amusement. "I don't think it's funny." She pushed herself up as Klaus pressed his lips into a thin line, trying and failing miserably to stop. She huffed a dramatic sigh as she wandered over to him and collapsed on the chair's arm. "On the contrary, it's quite funny watching those three dabbling in something so hopeless."

America scoffed her disbelief as she leaned against the back of the armchair, "Watching them at war with each other while Lena's none the wiser with her new immortality is not amusing." Klaus snorted as he set down his pencil. "Blood sharing is not to be taken lightly, love. Between vampires, it is very intimate and euphoric. It's not a passing method of relieving hunger but on par with laying with the receiving party in question." The woman's lips parted, forming an 'o' as her cheeks flushed lightly. "In terms of the Salvatores and Elena, that sucks, but. . ."

She pursed her lips, expression thoughtful. "Eleanora." America narrowed her eyes, pulled from her thoughts by Klaus' chastising tone. She furrowed her brows, blinking with feigned innocence. "What? I wasn't broadcasting anything. . ," her eyes slit further in her uncertainty, "Was I?" The man huffed as he shut his sketchbook, casting her a sideways unimpressed look as he set it on the side table. "I can smell you." Her initial reaction, she'll admit, was one of offence but by the darkening of Klaus' eyes, she realized shortly after what he meant. The flush on her cheeks deepened as she shot him a sheepish grin, readjusting herself on the arm of the chair.

"In my defence, it's only natural to think about the effects of blood-sharing with a soulmate bond if just any pair can get that much out of it." If she needed any more smugness, it came in the answer of Klaus' eyes sharpening as they imperceptibly flashed gold. "And then," she shifted completely, moving to straddle his lap in one swift movement, "there's the fact that being half werewolf, you feel things differently. . ." she trailed off cheekily as she traced a teasing path along the junction of his neck. A pleasant shiver ran down her spine as his hands settled on her thighs, the heat he radiated seeping through her leggings.