Severed Heaven (Niklaus and Elijah Mikaelson)

Chapter Eight: Darkness Falls Across The Bar

          My admission, which seemed to open up all the sluiceways between myself and the truth, was precisely what drowned my budding hopes when I stepped into Rousseau's. As I stood there in the doorway, frozen in place by seeing a certain somebody standing by the bar, I couldn't bring myself to move. It was him— Niklaus. His attention was no longer on the short man standing beside him. Where would I go from here? Ignore him and pretend his striking presence had gone by unnoticed? I'd be giving myself away by doing that, and he and I both would know it.

He saw me when I saw him. I failed to look away when he approached me. What was there to say to him? Nothing at all or everything at once? And what would happen the next time we pretended not to speak but were no longer sure the frost between us would still sham?

And there he was, looking as handsome as he always did. His black attire mirrored mine almost coincidentally. I adjusted the handle of my bag that hung from my shoulder and crossed my arms over my chest to appear less nervous than I was. I knew I had to be the first to speak. "Save me the lecture, Niklaus." I said.

He gave me a weak smile which changed into a smirk almost immediately, though, I could clearly sense a hint of dismay in his voice. "I suppose later is better than never. If you had not kept a certain piece of information from me I wouldn't even have to lecture you in the first place."

My eyes whirled around the bar solely to avoid his sturdy stare. In the process, I caught somebody looking. "Who's the dirtbag eyeing me like I'm dinner?"

"Old acquaintance." The guy made a face, shaking his head in defence.

I couldn't let the conversation peter out just yet. Now that we had pushed through the barrier that we'd set last week, it felt like small talk. "He can hear us. Great." I said. "So, what now? I'm assuming you're about to apologise on Elijah's orders—oh, no, let me guess... Freya's?" I made a thoughtful face, furrowing my brows.

He scoffed arrogantly. It didn't push me the wrong way just yet, though it should. "Apologise for what, love? I defeated Dahlia all by my lonesome. Nothing that I needed you for."

This time it was my turn to mock his remark. "Whoa— I knew you were pissed, but I didn't realise you were petty."

He stared me right in the face, as though he liked my face and wished to study it and linger on it, but I was well aware of his defiance of me. "Now, what's that supposed to mean?"

"It's an adjective." I said in the most vicious way that I could. "It means small-minded, spiteful." He was taunting me. I was taunting him. I let him ponder my reckless and petty statement.

Then, perhaps to fill the friction that was becoming unbearable, I decided to brush past him to end this absurdity, but he stepped in my way to keep me from doing so. I attempted to warn him with the callous look in my eyes. We were too close, I thought, I'd never been so close to him except in a dream or when we shared one moment of weakness in the third century.

I was slightly crushed when he showed me that cocky smile again. I'd hoped to provoke him. "Listen here, little witch. I admit that I was slightly out of line by placing that curse back on Hayley and her husband." He shrilled at me. "I took your support for granted, and yes, I also admit that Elijah urged me to make peace with you when he wasn't busy loathing me."— chiding condescension. "However, here I am, apologising."

"Well, your apology needs a little work." I shot back at him harshly.

I would've lectured him instead if it wasn't for the old acquaintance sidetracking the conversation. As my frustration boiled heavily in my veins, I glanced away, because I couldn't acknowledge how much he still mattered to me. I glanced away, because that steely gaze of his reminded me of how tall he thought he stood and how far below him I ranked. Now, I stared back to defy him completely.