Twelve Days Of Smutmas - [Elijah Mikaelson One Shots] - COMPLETED

Elijah Mikaelson, Esquire - Pt. 2

"Rebekah, what are you saying?" Elijah sounded impatient, not fully comprehending the weight of her words.

"Katherine is pregnant, Elijah. So pregnant that it was visible from across the room. You've only been broken up a couple of months, so I am assuming.." Rebekah trailed off, her eyebrows raised as if the conclusion were obvious.

"You're assuming I am the father of Katherine's unborn child," Elijah whispered, eyes closing in disbelief.

"Yes.. but what are you even doing here, Elijah? And where is your shirt?" Rebekah asked as she pulled Faith from the changing table. She wrapped her back up in her blanket and cradled her to her chest as she gazed quizzically at Elijah.

Elijah's eyes dropped to the ground and his cheeks tinged pink, remembering the way he was wrapped around his dream girl just moments ago.

Suddenly, Rebekah's eyes widened, gasping as she put two and two together.

"You were with Y/N! In her bed!" She whisper yelled so she didn't disturb the baby, but her shock was evident.

"Sister--" Elijah began, before his eyes landed on the baby monitor beside the crib. "Oh, no."

He realized too late that their entire conversation was audible over the baby monitor, the other half of which was in the room with Y/N.

He rushed down the hallway to the guest room, heart splintering when he found her there.

She was curled up on the bed, her face buried in her crossed arms as her shoulders shook with silent sobs.

He moved to the side of the bed, his heart pounding as he realized she was in pain because of him.

"Y/N, I--"

"No! Just go, Elijah. Between Mason and-- and sleeping with you, and now the fact that you're going to be a father! It's too much. I just.. I just can't." Her voice was a strangled whisper and if his heart hadn't shattered completely before, it certainly had now.

All he wanted was to sit beside her and soothe her pain, rub her back softly and whisper words of love and devotion.. but he knew she no longer wanted him there. He gathered up his things to dress and moved to the door.

As he turned around, he whispered softly, "I'm so sorry."

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Y/N cried herself to sleep that night, waking up wrapped only in the soft cotton sheets as the morning sun glared harshly through the window.

She didn't have to look in the mirror to know she was a mess, puffy eyed from hours of crying, and hair matted from lovemaking and tears. With a sigh, she pushed back the memories of the night before and took a hot shower, washing the pain down the drain so she could paste on a smile for her best friend and her baby.