Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Blessing On The Moon

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            Throughout the night, the thought of leaving this city kept tugging at me, straining toward me ever so gently now. I wasn't waking out of it, not when I put on some quiet music, not when I let myself drown in one of my favourite books. The idea had finally tapped me on the shoulder and was now encouraging me to look for every inducement to consider. It all washed over me like water, or perhaps flooded would have been the better fit, because I couldn't help but wonder whether it would be better for me, for everyone. What if I went back to that tomb, and took all of that magic back tonight? And leave, crumble, end everything without saying goodbye?

Like numbness, the thought worked on my extremities first and then penetrated to the rest of my body, giving all manner of arguments, starting with the silly ones, rising to the major ones— how will I face death, and how to face myself?

Why hadn't I thought of this before? Because to stay so badly for any unknown reason? Because I wanted the counterarguments to spring on their own, without my having any part in summoning then at all, so that I wouldn't blame myself? Don't lie to yourself. It was my mother's voice in the back of my head. It was the underside of it all that I loved. I loved the boldness that was pushing me forward.

However, in fact, I was lying to myself. I knew exactly why I wanted to stay. In my heart I still believed to find true love in this city.

My heart was suddenly beating like crazy when I realised I'd been flipping countless pages like a mad person. I was afraid of nothing, so why be frightened in the first place? Why? Because everything scared me, because both hope and desire were busy equivocating with each other, with me, and at one point I could barely tell the difference between wanting to go and wanting to stay. I greeted myself with excuses, like apologising for not having had time to consider this before.

Regardless of my irresolute and vague feelings this afternoon, I was pleased by the ambiance in the room right now. It was quiet. All I could hear was the music from the record-player. A few candles I conveniently had in my possession were lit.

This was my kind of Christmas each year. Perhaps I wouldn't want to have it any other way, or was I still lying to myself?

When I finally lost myself in my book, able to let my doubts and wonders go, there was a lenient knock on my door. I hesitated, placing my entertainment of the night on the coffee table. Who the hell could this be at this hour? I debated ignoring it, but me being me, I really couldn't. I decided against it almost immediately. So, I reluctantly unlocked my door, deep down hoping that this was imaginary, my own loneliness playing tricks on me yet again. I wasn't expecting anyone, was I? No. This was either Vincent, coming to apologise, or this was never even real in the first place.

And when I swung open the door, I was looking into those lovely brown eyes. I forgot to breathe when he looked into mine. I was covered in his actuality all over again just when I thought I had been able to let him escape my mind. Why did you have to do this to me again, Elijah?

There was a glint in his eyes. At once, right now, he was an open book right away. I caught glimpses of impatience, true promises, alleviation, all that and so much more. It was all painted so perfectly on his handsome face. Was this a sign? A good sign? What was he here for? "What are you doing here?" I asked him, and I let him sense the curiosity, let him sense the surprise in my voice. I allowed him to read me as I had done to him.

What did I feasibly have to hide? Nothing. Because I knew why he was here.

Deep in my heart, I knew.

Elijah stood there, still and so calmly. I noticed he was wearing a different suit. I studied him as he took his time to answer my question, and absolutely gave it my all.

Severed Heaven (Niklaus and Elijah Mikaelson)Where stories live. Discover now