On My Own (TVD Series)

Trusted Foe

3 WEEKS LATER

"Ms. Blackwell, where would you like the new couch for you?" The mover blurted out from the foyer as I stared up at several paintings that I have been considering hanging up.

"In the living room is fine."

Switching between an oil painting and a charcoal portrait of my parents' shadows, vases, and other decors were being stacked and organized into their rooms. I had spent the last few days contemplating about the rooms and the old furniture, whether to throw it out or just refurbish them. But with the partial family spirits still lingering around every now and then, I figured It would keep me occupied with the calls and the food offerings Caroline had been leaving on the fountain.

It had been days since I had last stepped foot into town, two weeks since I had withdrawn from Whitmore. Talking to counselors about my loss was already worst, recommending me to reach out to family and other friends but what was the use. They had taken my last friend from me, the only one that could possibly understand what I was feeling at all times. 

I was better off without anyone, I was calmer even. My magic was controlled and my incantations were fluent to the tongue, along with my greek which I had finally found time to master. I was bettering myself in such a short amount of time, that anything else became irrelevant, including my old memories. 

"Ms. Blackwell, where would you like the old picture frames?" One of the mover asked.

"Closet in the attic."

"Ms. Blackwell...the master bedroom and bathroom are decorated is there anything else you need help with?"

"Yes, I have some candles in the garage, could you place them in the attic?"

"Of course, anywhere in particular?"

"Away from the windows are fine." I smiled.

Carefully hanging the oil painting on the wall, one of the movers that had been helping me moved the accent table below.

"It's perfect...let's move to the foyer," I asked her, handing the fabric cover from the oil painting.

"Are these canvases from your old collection, Ms. Blackwell?" She asked.

"Some...I've been spending a lot of my time painting new things, and since the Lockwood's are no longer with us, I figured I shouldn't let these go to waste."

Ducking my head as a group of moved the large accent rug into the living room, I rested the charcoal painting up against the wall, while we moved the accent table. With several workers putting in time on the chandelier above us, I kept my ear out for everyone outside as there had been some incidents regarding the basement and back patio.

'Has anyone seen Bobby?' I heard one of the workers yelled out.

'Last time I saw him he was heading outside of the grounds, why?'

'We need an extra hand.'

"Ms. Blackwell, is everything alright?" Tori asked, holding onto an old vase.

"Yes...be careful with that."

Sighing deeply, I removed the thin fabric on my charcoal canvas before hanging it up just under a small light fixture.

"You are really talented, Ms. Blackwell...it's a shame these paintings have to kept in secret."

"...maybe one day they won't have to be...but we'll see." I smiled.

'I'm sorry, Sir. The only way to enter the premises is if Ms. Blackwell herself allows you inside.'

Cautiously, I looked over my shoulder, I slowly made my way to the front door staring out at the driveway as most of the working appliances and equipment was occupying the space.