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❝ when you love someone, they become a part of who you are. ❞
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GHOSTS LINGERED AROUND EVERY CORNER. For years, they resided in those perfectly made beds in houses Enola would visit overnight. They were guests who died quietly with the lights out. They were guests who let her sleep, who spoke into the ear closest to the pillow, offering assurances of dawn with their vaguely transparent bodies touching her like a strange wind looking for a place to rest beneath the covers.
Enola called them ghosts because they haunted her just the same. Those other ghosts, wronged and forever in the league with wrong, so much has been said about them. But the ghosts who sleep with her and let her sleep are the ones she might have invited into her bed had she known them at the proper time. They might have believed in a future even then and would have let her leave them easily, knowing that somehow it would come to this—her one day drifting toward them, without fear, in a world wholly theirs. She just didn't expect that day to come so soon.
"Hello, little monster."
Enola had been standing in front of yet another painting of Klaus. It wasn't out of the ordinary for her. She had a few of Katherine, Elijah, and even Rebekah at this point. There was just something so fascinating about the villains. Or people who were perceived as the villains. Katherine was just doing whatever it took to survive, Elijah was just trying to protect his family, and Rebekah was just lonely. None of them were necessarily villains. Except for Klaus. The Original hybrid was as villainous as they came. Which is why she found it strange that he seemed so human over the phone. So happy.
"Stop calling me," Enola deadpanned.
"Stop answering me," Klaus chuckled.
"What do you want?" Enola sighed.
"Just thought I would check on my newest investment," Klaus hummed.
"Then why don't you call Elena?" Enola questioned.
"How do you know I haven't?" Klaus teased.
"Because she would've told me," Enola informed.
"Have you told her?" Klaus shot back.
"What do you want?" Enola repeated after a moment of silence.
"So I'm your dirty little secret," Klaus hummed.
"You're nothing to me," Enola scowled.
"If I was truly nothing to you, why haven't you hung up the phone? Better yet, why haven't you blocked my number?" Klaus inquired. "Because your mind keeps wandering back to our time in that confessional. You quite enjoyed it."
