Rebel Just For Kicks: Kol Mikaelson [1]

66: If Only Morning Never Came

a/n: slightly explicit content warning (we be easing into this because S4's where the spice will get ✨)

MJ knew there was something inherently wrong with her body clock. She always went to bed late, and she always woke up early, and because she'd gotten used to it, she'd tricked herself into thinking she actually enjoyed being an early bird. What she was learning was, she only enjoyed being an early bird because she'd spent most of her life feeling unsafe when she slept. Waking up next to Kol?

She had the initial 'Where am I?' panic for about a second, then she remembered everything from the previous night and cursed her brain for switching on.

Once it was on, it didn't exactly turn off.

She inspected the situation a little.

He had an arm wrapped around her, hand resting on the left side of her ribcage, where her shirt had ridden up. The other was stretched out to the side, and his head was tilted towards her. He was snoring lightly, and she found herself smiling like an idiot at the sight of him.

He'd clearly fallen asleep after her since the shirt she remembered him wearing had been discarded, and there was an empty blood bag by the table lamp.

She'd been asleep next to a hungry vampire.

He'd shown her a memory of savagery and sibling squabbles, and his complete disregard for his victims, and not only had she kissed him like it was her only purpose, but she'd fallen asleep next to him.

Despite the memory, she felt calm.

Could she let herself feel safe with an Original Vampire?

Subtly shifting out from his hold, she placed her bare feet on the floor and stood up.

He was an Original. He couldn't burn in the sun, stakes didn't hurt him, and he had super strength and speed. If he wasn't a bit of serial killer, he would be incredibly safe to sleep next to.

She stretched and looked around the room.

There was a cooler by his bedside table, probably filled with blood, and books scattered about the place. A lot of books. A large collection of Shakespeare in the centre of the case. She noticed a few records too. Most were far too old looking to still work so she had to assume they held sentimental value, and there were newer ones he'd picked out from the piano room.

On one side, there was a book that definitely had spell pages clipped inside of it, modern sticky notes marking individual pages. Looking at what he was 'working' on felt a little too invasive, so she looked over the Shakespeare.

She opened the one that seemed most recently read, creased spine and curved corners.

The pages were annotated.

She smiled, running her fingers over his handwriting. Most of the notes were just lines he seemed to like, but some of them were clearly written after multiple readings, where he'd gone back through marking all the more subtle bits of foreshadowing.

She moved to the next one – a copy of Macbeth. The back pages were covered in scribbles. How he'd stage the play, specifically, how he'd want to use The Porter through the entire thing, alongside other ensemble members as servants to represent the idea of surveillance and shifting allegiances.

She picked up a third when she noticed the lack of background snoring.

She was being watched.

Slowly she turned to look at Kol and his smirk.

He raised his eyebrows at her snooping.

MJ rubbed her neck awkwardly, and he dropped to a more relaxed expression, sitting up and wiping sleep from his eyes.