The Other Gilbert (Rewriting)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two rewritten

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 "What are you?" Niklaus asked as he stared at me in confusion.

"I don't know," I told him truthfully, catching him off guard, as he surely expected me to lie, "I don't know how I am the way I am. I just know that I'm different, not human."

Niklaus stood in front of me, with conflict clear on his face. He didn't know how to react.

"You don't know what to do, do you?" I asked, "my family and their friends are your enemy, yet you feel something for me, something you can't quite place."

"You are delusional," Niklaus hissed, his eyes turning a blood red as veins appeared around them. Instead of the reaction he wanted, I stepped closer to trace those veins, causing him to take a sharp intake of breath.

"When I look at you, Niklaus, I feel something otherworldly," I whispered, "it's almost hypnotic, but I crave it," I placed a hand on his chest, "and there it is, the thumping of your heart, in sync with mine. There's something about it," I explained, "something I can't explain, nor understand."

Furious, Niklaus clutched my hand , his nails piercing my flesh, drawing blood. I wasn't sure why he raged, perhaps because he, himself felt it, yet denied the feeling. Immediately, his eyes zoned in on the trickle of blood flowing out of the healing wound.

"Taste it," I gasped, I felt possessed in a swirl of confusion and passion. This was unlike me, yet it felt right.

Slowly, Niklaus lifted up my wrist, bringing it to his mouth, and as he kissed the wound, he began to suck on it. His eyes never strayed from my chocolate brown ones.

"Niklaus," I whispered, closing my eyes, I let out a breath of ecstasy. This feeling was foreign, it was a drug, and I needed more.

"Who are you?" Niklaus whispered as he caressed my cheek.

When I opened my eyes, he was gone, leaving me breathless and alone.

"I don't know," I answered as I looked at my surroundings, "I don't fucking know." 

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When I was eight years old, I remembered drawing a picture for my parents. They loved it so much that they had it framed. The very next day, Elena gifted them with a painting twice the size. They placed it over the fireplace for all to see. Whenever I did something, Elena always did it better. It wasn't long before I gave up entirely and stopped doing anything. I was content with the role I was given. The shadows become a place I belonged to. That was, until I found the forest, and my love of nature grew. I stopped hiding in the shadows, and instead hid in the woods. It was there that I came across an old cottage near the lagoon. With vines overtaking its roof, fallen branches almost devouring it, and rotten wood making it unstable. During summer it became my mission to restore the little cottage to what I believed was its former glory. Magic and Werewolf strength came in handy. And of course, knowing that no one would question my missing presence allowed me to repair it. The cottage was now my little get away home. Although there wasn't electricity or running water, it was the perfect place for me to practice my magic. Being a witch without a mentor was difficult. Where young witches would be taught by their Elders, I had to figure everything out for myself. There was even a low point where I had a sneak peak in Bonnie's grimoire when I found out she had one. It helped me realise that my form of magic was different. Bonnie used existing spells, yet I always had to experiment and create my own. My magic was personal, and a pure extension of myself. Unlike other witches, what I know hasn't been passed down, but rather cultivated for years through research and trial and error. I wouldn't call myself stronger than others, but I knew I was no rookie.