B E T T E R M A N | KLAUS MIKAELSON

NINETEEN

A fight.

Well, a squabble, had broken out between two of her friends.

Rhine couldn't help but feel like it had been her fault, the addition of that extra alcohol had caused a reaction that none had predicted. They had hypothesised a fun night, though spent in a crypt, where the five of them would drink, eat cake and reminisce on their childhood memories. Instead, the pot had boiled over, scorching water dripping down the sides of the pan and with it all of their carefree dreams.

It all began, when Caroline consumed maybe a cup too many, and decided to drunk text her now ex-boyfriend? (Rhine was unsure) Tyler, asking to meet him. Elena, taking on the job of the mothering friend, has scolded the girl, but Bonnie. Bonnie had always had her moments, though everyone knew that she was the most caring, the gentlest, the most understanding, and generally just the kindest in the group, she had moments where anger sprouted out of her in the form of a ferocious beast.

And she snapped.

The witch had snapped at Elena, before storming out of the cemetery altogether. Rhine had wanted to intervene, had wanted nothing else but to stick up for the one person who always had her back. But, for probably one of the first times in her life, she acted with rationality.

Truthfully, she didn't know where she stood with the rest of the group, not even with Bonnie, who had always accepted and understood everything, but this, this was completely different. Her soulmate was more than just a man. He was a tornado, circling the town they had all inhabited, and with each passing second, he grew closer and closer. Circling winds picked up speeds, sucking all sorts of things into the swirling pool and ripping it to shreds, from buildings to people. It didn't stop, never thought about his actions, simply stormed through their town creating havoc wherever he went, and it just so happened that they had been directly in his warpath.

So Rhine wasn't sure if she could step in, if she could defend the witch. That was without warranting even more dispute for herself. And so, with regret shining through that softened amber, she stood, and she watched as her smaller figure disappeared into the night air.

The rest of them, those still stood there, had been left with a turmoil that none knew how to deal with. The air was thick, oxygen struggling to find its way through the heaviness of the fog intercepting all of them. It was silent too, not even the sound of steady breaths could be recognised.

Slowly, the four of them managed to bandage together that which had been broken, mostly with the help of alcohol, but also with some kind words by one Matt Donovan.

Soon, they were all at varying points of drunkness, apart from Rhine, who had discovered that she could no longer get drunk by the same means that they could. Though she didn't complain, simply simmered in the company of her friends. It was odd, how something so weird, so unnatural for their little group, had been the one thing to make her feel so mundane.

All of it came to a worrying halt though, at that same squeaking sound of the metal gates being opened, the sound had been stretched out, making Rhine flinch at the unease it brought her, but showed that whoever was interrupting them, had been hesitant. All four of the friends peered up at the same time, from anyone else's perspective the level of their intense sync would have scared them. But this wasn't anyone else. This was Tyler Lockwood.

Dread coated his entire face, seeping through his pores and painting his usually tan face, pale. "Sorry, I erh. I didn't mean to crash the party."