Devil's Angel ° {K.M}[Rewriting]

{028}

Astoria, Oregon
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"The ones we love have the power to inflict the greatest scars. For what thing is more fragile than the human heart?"
—Lady Whistledown {Bridgerton}
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A grand staircase decorated beautifully with lights, a manicured hand running along it as tranquil music echoed throughout the large home—a mansion. A crowd mingled below, men and women dressed immaculately in pristine suits and stunning dresses but the colours were dark. Too dark reds and green, smooth grays and blacks. . . not a splash of colour until she looked down and saw the wine-red of her gown. Someone walked alongside her, a man dressed in a suit somehow cleaner than that of the men below. 

A blink and she was in another room—a ballroom—in the same man's arms, gliding around the room as grand music played. There was the distinct sound of someone speaking, her mysterious prince, it seemed, and her own laughter followed as he spun her. She ached to see his face, looking up as he pulled her back in but in the same moment, in the waking world, was when her eyes opened to the interior of the SUV that had become much of a home in the past two weeks. America rubbed the sleep from her eyes, muffling a yawn as she looked around.

Her door was open and they were parked in a parking lot, one close to the sea which spoke volumes of the fact that they had arrived in Astoria—and their chosen hotel if the small cluster of buildings around them were any indication. "And sleeping beauty rises." She made a half-heartedly exasperated noise as she covered a yawn, her nose scrunching as she did. "Mhm, thanks to you being loud. I was having a really nice dream, you know." Klaus ushered her out of the vehicle to which she complied lazily, stretching languidly once she was standing upright.

"You are a creature many millennia old and you find a fascination in Grand Balls?" Standing in the way of him closing the door, the man waited with an exaggerated look of impatience for her to stretch and whine as her muscles were pulled taut, sighing loudly when she finally moved out of the way and allowed him to shut it. "Yes, you know why? Because I've never been to one and I feel like that's something someone should get a chance to check off their 'I did that' list. Also," she suppressed another yawn as they made their way into the hotel.

"Rosie and I watched Cinderella a few nights ago so the concept is fresh in my head." It was on the smaller side, looking similar to a motel or even a small, three-level apartment building although, much more pristine and homely inside than it appeared on the out. "Did you end up finding the wolves that are here or do we have to go looking for them? Because I'd like another nap honestly." Their room was on the second floor, a corner that was arranged beautifully with an even better view of the grassy, flat land before it faded into sand and ocean.

"Not that you would know but we have been in town for four hours. I've already met the mother and son." Klaus settled in one of the chairs that made up a mini sitting area just in front of the bed, watching her as she glanced around the room, taking everything in including their bags that were tucked into the corner. "The mother is a witch, and the son is a werewolf who got the gene from his father. He knows what she is and the dangers of his life. . ," the man trailed off, America peeking up from the rose she had taken off the neatly spread bed.