napalm skies <<>> kol mikaelson

07

"meet me where the sky touches the sea. wait for me where the world begins."

07 | TEMPTATION

June, 1865

Kol Mikaelson was, yet again, lost on what to do. And, yet again, it had something to do with a certain blue-eyed Charlotte Salvatore.

Her name made him think back to their last meeting—the night of the gala. He remembered their dancing, both in the ballroom and in the garden. He remembered the way she had let him touch her, despite the clear reservations that she still held toward him; he also remembered the way she had pulled away, as if his touch burned her. The look of fear on her face was ingrained in his memory, and he felt strangely hurt by her rejection.

He remembered following her to the French Quarter; he remembered watching as she drank a man dry, and to be completely honest, he didn't mind the way she looked when she did so.

She had such an innocent face, round and yet sharp in all the right places. Her eyes were like the deep blue of the ocean, and yet they reminded him more of the sky than anything. When she had drank from the man, the blue in her eyes receded and turned red, and although Kol had never found beauty in the vampiric features, he couldn't help but see that she looked breathtaking with such bloodlust in her face. He noticed freckles on her nose when they had been dancing, and they reminded him of the stars in the night sky. Her words were both guarded and vulnerable, and he felt himself wanting to know more and more until she consumed him completely.

He groaned, leaning forward on his bed and running his hands through his unruly hair. He was shirtless, a woman's dead body in bed next to him. He had been prepared to bed her before he drained every drop of blood from her veins, but the thoughts of Charlotte Salvatore had deterred him from doing so. Anytime he looked at the blonde woman—or any woman for that matter—he would only see her, and out of frustration, he had ripped her neck open mercilessly.

The act didn't relive any of his stress or annoyance.

Once again, Charlotte hadn't been seen since their last meeting at the gala. It wasn't for lack of looking either, for Kol had been searching the Quarter up and down for a wisp of dark hair followed by deep eyes. He kept an ear out for any whispers of her in the city. He commanded those under the Mikaelson reign to help him in his search. Despite his attempts though, there was nothing to indicate that she had ever been there in the first place. She was like a ghost, an apparition that only appeared once he was desperate and aching for one more glance in her eyes.

It was frustrating to say the least, and Kol had been hoping that a womanly distraction would get her out of his mind—but to no use. He continued to think about her even as the body next to him grew cold with death.

"Something bothering you, brother?" A voice asked from the bedroom doorway, and Kol glanced up to send a glare to his older brother.

"Leave me be, Nik," he sighed, surprising the other man. Kol stood up, slipping a white, loose shirt over his head to cover his skin. When he looked back at his brother, he noticed Klaus's eyes fixated on him, an amused expression slowly crossing over his face.

The half-brother crossed his arms wryly, tilting his head to the side. "That girl sure does have an affect on you," he commented, shrugging his shoulders. "I only wish I had the pleasure of meeting her at the gala before you scared her away."

Kol glared. "I didn't scare her away," he said with a deep sigh, annoyed already by his brother's implications. "And in all honesty, brother, I can't say I'm unhappy she didn't meet your acquaintance."

Klaus smirked, looking past his brother at the body that laid lifelessly in the bed. The older of the two raised an eyebrow at the sight. "Well you're certainly unhappy about something," he noticed, his eyes going back to meet his brother's. "Am I correct to assume it has something to do with the girl?"