Devil's Angel ° {K.M}[Rewriting]

{045}

 We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes
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"I knew who I was this morning but I've changed a few times since then."
— Alice in Wonderland
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Much of the house was doused in silence aside from the sitting room where some hybrids sat with Klaus, the man listening quietly as they told him of what had transpired the past week in his absence. Of the five in the room, they were admittedly unaware of the young girl perched right outside. Simply a heartbeat as she hadn't uttered a word, none of the men considered it could be anyone other than the dog who liked to lurk. It wasn't until the acrid scent of anxiety wafted over to them that they entertained the idea it was Rosie around the corner. When called softly by Paul, the girl peered around the corner with wide eyes and fidgeting hands. 

"Hey, kiddo," the man stood, slowly making his way over, "Everything okay?" The little blonde pressed her lips into a thin line, twisting her hands nervously. "M—Ella's sick." Paul sighed softly, some of the worry receding as he saw what the girl's concern was. "Oh, El's fine, short stuff. She's just been having a rough time." It was An understatement, as the cause for her struggle was watching them closely in the room. "No, she's not fine. She's sick! I know she is." Paul wasn't taken aback by the sudden outburst, pursing his lips as he contemplated calling Eleanora down. 

She calmed Rosie the easiest among them all but. . . his gaze flicked momentarily back to Klaus, throwing that idea away immediately. It would benefit not even Rosie if Paul put the couple in the same room with an audience before they were in one alone and didn't murder the other. "Ro—" He reached for her but tiny, clawed hands slapped him away, leaving behind minor, red marks on his hand. "No, you're not l-listening," the girl sobbed, "She's sick. I w-went to sh-show her my new crayons an-and she told me, she told me t-to go away and that she, she never wanted to see me again." 

Paul straightened up, brows furrowing as he peered at the blonde girl in confusion. "What?" He echoed, glancing back at the others to see if they'd heard that too. Merrick certainly had as he was on his feet first, gone in a blink. A tiny sniffle and a shuddering breath drew his attention away again, Paul cooing softly as he swept Rosie up into his arms. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you the first time." Soft cries were muffled in his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. He shushed her softly, rocking her as he turned to see that Klaus was the only one aside from them remaining in the room.

The man was quiet as he sat still, staring unseeingly at nothing in particular. Seconds passed and Paul wanted to scream. He wanted to march over to the man and shake him—shake some sense into him until he resembled someone he recognized. The man who would have known the moment Eleanora wasn't feeling well and been up there with her in an instant instead of trying to pry the identity of who murdered his precious hunter in his absence. The man who would have never left Eleanora in harm's way and the man who had left her for nearly two weeks in silence were disgustingly the same and Paul couldn't fathom how and why one had become the other.

It had been hard to see the ruthless, obsessive and paranoid man Klaus could be because, with her, he had been nothing more than a man content with what he had while the danger he was capable of lurked in the shadows. Without her. . . he was every bit of the cruel man Paul knew stories of. A man who had no qualms about daggering his own sister and plotting behind his lover's back. It was jarring how the couple could go from equals to Klaus reducing the woman who dwarfed him in power and strength to a husk of herself for greed. Relentless, pointless greed. One of the most powerful creatures to ever walk the earth and he still yearned for more at the cost of what he already had.