THE MUSE | n. mikaelson

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"Why haven't you turned off your humanity?"

She asked and he didn't know what to tell her. Perhaps, there was some value in feelings. Yes, some of them were making him vulnerable, and the others were enhancing his power.

Then she asked, "If you could erase emotions which ones would you erase?"

Almost immediately he wanted to say love. But he stopped himself before he got another question. Instead, he took a moment to look at her and it made him feel—well, foolish.

Everyone saw the way he was, the way he portrayed himself - this blood-thirsty monster with no remorse. But could you be anything else once you live over a thousand years? If mere humans were so prone to violence in all of the years they had, why were his actions so surprising?

She asked again, after not getting an answer from him: "Would you leave love with you?"

She was eager. Always eager around him. Always trying to get into his mind. And he would let her. He would let her even if she despised him, even if he didn't try to make amends. He would let her do anything to him.

"Love is a weakness," he finally answered.

He lied.

He lied and she saw that.

She smiled—and that brought him to his knees. Such a beautiful smile with such sorrowful eyes. "You always lie to me." She shook her head—not angrily, no. "But you haven't answered my question."

Always so insightful. Always so—

"I would leave it with me."