𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞 ⟪♥︎⟫ Elijah Mikaelson

V

'Paris at night is something different entirely- I mean, sure, it'll never be dark. There are too many city lights. But it's magical nonetheless.'

A blush stained her cheeks as she looked over at Elijah, walking beside her, through one of the quieter parts of the city, hands in his pockets. There was a certain calmness and wisdom in his pace, as if he knew all the answers of the universe. Yet he always listened to her rambles, that were either filled with knowledge, or packed with nonsense.

He stopped walking and turned towards her, his brown orbs boring through her soul, exposing her. He knew so much about her, but only then she realised how little she knew of him.

'It's beautiful,' he told her as his hand stroked her cheeks.

Her tongue flicked over her lips as she turned her head away, 'What's your last name? You told me, but I'm fairly certain I was too caught up in the moment to register it.'

'Mikaelson,' he said with a little bit of hesitation.

'I've never heard that name before,' she told him, 'it sounds quite unique. Have you ever tried to map out a family tree? You could figure out where it comes from.'

A chuckle left Elijah's lips, the reason unbeknownst to Leah. 'I did something like that, Mikael is a Viking name and his children were of course called the sons of Mikael. Mikaelson.'

Her eyes widened, 'Vikings?! That's incredible, I know very little of Viking history, except that they didn't actually have horns on their helmets. I believe it's an idea that was created in the ninth century, by western society. But don't hold my accountable if it was a different time in history, I couldn't care less for numbers. For my part it was the nineteenth century, I'm quite the disaster whenever are numbers are involved. I'm terrible at maths too.'

Elijah turned towards her with a heart-stopping smile, yet her hands fiddled with her sleeves, because the cold air easily bit through her thin coat. Before she knew it, she was engulfed in his arms, her head pressed against his chest.

But she was not engulfed by his soothing calmness, it wasn't because she'd shivered that she was now in his arms. He'd moved too quickly, his muscles were tense and all that resonated from him was stress. She didn't know the cause, or at least not until she heard voices behind her.

'Well, well, well, look whom we have here. She's like a copy of Katherine.'

Fury burned in her heart, not knowing what the entire ordeal was about, but the effort she made to push against Elijah's chest, getting out of his grasp, was useless. His arms were strongly wound around her and she wasn't strong enough to escape, nor did she want to hurt him in doing so.

Elijah's voice was low and sent chills down her spine as he told the stranger, 'I don't have the faintest idea of who you are, but I advice you to to stay out of my way, before things get very ugly.'