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·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
REBEKAH STOOD BY THE DOOR of the Monet household, eyelashes still wet with remnants of the her cries from earlier in the night. Her fingers vigorously tapped the screen of her cellphone to tell Rosalie that she was waiting on their porch. Almost immediately, the door flew open and the brunette in question peeked her head out.
"Come on in, Bekah," Rosalie welcomed her, upturned lips holding nothing but warmth as she did her best to make the blonde comfortable. The brunette was the dressed in sweatpants and an old band T-shirt, her hair in a loose ponytail. It felt as though she radiated tranquility and ease, though this was no surprise to the Mikaelsonㅡshe always felt calm around her.
"Feel free to look around," Rosalie gestured to the direction of the living room. They were still standing by the main door, Rebekah clueless about what she should do. The brunette, however, was smiling kindly. It was clear to her that the blonde felt lost, so she wanted to do what she could to ease the other's nerves. "I just put the kettle on the stove, so we can have some tea while we talk. Is that okay?"
Rebekah nodded, murmuring a quiet expression of gratitude. The Monet went to the kitchen, busying herself with the preparation of their beverages. She retrieved two teacups from the cupboard, placing them on the kitchen island. Then, the Monet rummaged around for the chamomile teabags. Chamomile was like drinking liquefied serenity, a go-to drink for calming down (though she admits it tastes a bit too much like grass). Rosalie spun around, teabags in hand; but she forgot about the placement of the delicate china, accidentally knocking one off the counter.
The sound of shattering glass echoed through the kitchen, shards of the once beautiful porcelain hitting the floor. The Monet groaned, crouching down to clean the mess; but a wave of dizziness stopped her from doing so. She shut her eyes, trying to will it to go away. It was lucky she was gripping the edge of the counter, or else she would've fallen down completely.
"Rosalie? Are you all right?" Rebekah rushed to the doorway of the kitchen, concern etched on her features. The blonde was observing the abundance of photographs hung on the walls of the hallway when she had heard a crash from the other room. It was heartwarming seeing images of the Monet siblings grow from babies to children and teenagers, though she couldn't help but feel a bit jealous at the obvious parental love the trio were showered with.
The brunette gave a weak smile. "Just great."
The Mikaelson raised her eyebrows at her, moving to help Rosalie collect the shards. "Is everything okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Everything's fine." Rosalie waved her question off, forcing herself to get it together. They took their time cleaning the shattered glass, making small talk as they did so.
