Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
·° 。: ✰ : ·° 。
"THIS IS LITERALLY THE STRANGEST EVENING I've ever experienced," Alaska rubbed her eyes, tiredly. The Monet closed the door behind her, actions gentle so as to avoid the production of noise. The blonde trudged inside, her posture slumped. The teenager looked as though she was carrying the world on her shoulders, which wasn't exactly something new for her. She froze when saw her brother, frowned, and shook her head, continuing her descent.
"I haven't had enough coffee to deal with this."
The girl with black hair had a smirking Jacob pinned to the wall, a snarl on her features. With bright eyes, light blue and deadly, it was a shock that the youngest Monet didn't tremble when that murderous gaze was trained on him. Alaska paid them no heed, calmly passing by to sit next to Rosalie's sleeping form.
"Kids," Klaus rubbed his forehead, also slumped on a plastic chair on the other side of the room. "Please."
The girl didn't glance at the Original, but a low threat left her mouth before she left the room herself, looking as though fire was about to bloom where her feet touched the floor.
Klaus rolled his eyes at her retreating form, mumbling something about her 'dramatics.' The Hybrid crossed the threshold, and handed the blonde a carton cup of coffee. She stared at it suspiciously, but he only raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to accept his offer. The Monet finally took it in her grasp, nearly moaning when the warm liquid made contact with her tastebuds, limbs already tingling at the dose of caffeine.
She squinted at him, now back in his seat. "I still don't like you."
"I expected nothing less," he breathed, the ghost of a smile on his face. Sure, she'd never seen him smile much, but it was becoming something common in Rosalie's presence. It was probably rare for someone who's been alive as long as him to look so tired. A rarity she was currently witnessing. It must've taken a lot for him to feel the toil of human activities. The Original must have been up all night, watching over the eldest and youngest Monet siblings. Alaska felt a wave of gratefulness hit her, almost feeling empathetic towards Klaus.
Keyword: almost.
"Don't you think you should rest?" She looked just about uncomfortable as she felt, squirming under his curious gaze.
"Why would you say that?"
Their eyes met from across the room: his gaze shocked and prodding; hers, cautious and questioning. Alaska raised an eyebrow. "You look like death," she deadpanned.
