[ 2 ] exemplary » klaus mikaelson

15

I slowly open my eyes at the sound of knuckles clicking against the hardwood door that belongs to my bedroom. Glancing at the moon outside my window, I can already tell it's still the middle of the night.

I rip my covers off my body and walk away from my bed and towards my door, wondering who would want to wake me up from my slumber.

The second I turn the doorknob and fully open my door, warm arms wrap around my body, holding me tight in a hug. I let us stand here for a few moments, letting my hands secure him in place.

I pull away from his embrace with furrowed eyebrows, "Klaus, what's wrong?"

"I've been having dreams of my father. Safe to say, I am seeking your comfort." he confesses, his fingers lingering on mine. I widen my eyes in surprise. I haven't thought about Mikael since Klaus drove a white oak stake into his heart on Homecoming night.

A part of me wondered if he's having dreams of his father because he's afraid of becoming him once our child surfaces. Shaking my thoughts out of my head, I grab ahold of his arm and pull him to my messy yet warm bed.

"Just sleep with me tonight, okay?" I say and slip under the covers, waiting for him to do the same on the opposite side. "Love, it's alright. I shouldn't have woken you up." Klaus turns away and I shake my head, preventing him from leaving my room with the halt of my hands.

"Klaus, if there's one thing I promised you, it's that I would never leave you. That also includes me being there for you. Come here, please."

He obeys my orders and joins me on the opposite side. A familiar feeling came back to me, the feeling that was abandoned for months. He lays next to me, leaving an even amount of space between us.

It's complete darkness in my room minus the silver light shining down on us from the moon. The only sounds I heard were the leaves rustling from outside and our breathing.

Klaus leans down on his back whereas I have my body on my side, facing him. By the look on his face, I can already tell he's rethinking his dreams about Mikael.

"He's not coming back," I tell him and he turns his head towards me. "Your father's gone and he's not coming back." I repeat with a gentle voice. "You're nothing like him and you never will be."

When he says nothing, I pull my body closer to him and rest my head on his shoulder. I close my eyes and let sleep take over with nothing but the sound of his heartbeat.

§

"I know I haven't been around these parts lately. It's a testament to Father Kieran that we could come together and share a drink, and a story or two. Kieran rolled into town on a rusty old cruiser after his daddy died twenty-five years ago. And damnit, that guy could party! That was, of course, before he took his vows. But, even then, he was committed to the Quarter. He knew that this town needed him. And, we still do." Marcel finishes his speech, raising his glass, "To Father K!"

The audience below him murmurs, "To Father K."

I watch as he gets off from the chair and joins in from the rest of the crowd. My eyes then travel to Klaus beside me, who's drowning himself in whatever alcohol he can get his hands on.

I sit in a booth inside Rousseau's Bar as the rest of us honor Father Kieran's death. Or, at least everyone else honors and parties in the process.

Elijah joins the two of us in the booth, sending me a quick smile before returning to his brother. "Seems rather uncivilized to laugh and dance around the body of a loved one." Klaus speaks after a very long time of silence.

Elijah pours himself a drink, "Yes, far better to practice your process of grief, Niklaus—denial, rage, and hoarding coffins in basements."

I didn't even blink twice before Hayley joins us at the table and Elijah glances a look at her, "I will warn you, Hayley, Niklaus is in a spectacularly foul mood today."