Breathing ∞ Kol Mikaelson [1]

Epilogue

The first thing that hit Emma as she passed through the door of a highly crowded bar in the was the smell. Alcohol mixed with sweat and she suspected if her senses were better, she'd also be able to sense a tinge of blood coming from some hidden corner. Based on what she'd heard, and on what she learned on her own, Emma wasn't surprised to find the vampires of New Orleans living their best life out in the open. But unlike them, she wasn't here for a grand time. She was looking for answers.

It had taken her some time, and multiple tries before she figured out the way to get her own memories back, especially once she noticed the magic mixed with the compulsion. Now she remembered. She could recall all that was wiped from her mind all those years ago. But even once that was complete she didn't know everything she wanted to. And since she was done with the hiding and the running, done trying to dig up answers in hidden notes and writings, she found herself here.

She couldn't be sure the man from her past would have all of the answers she was looking for, but he was the best bet. And so, once she spotted him, sitting at the bar, and laughing along with some of the other vampires around him, Emma started to make her way over. She pretended she was just another patron, her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she came up to the bar. Leaning forward, her elbows resting on top of the bar, it wasn't hard to catch the attention of the bartender and get her drink.

And it wasn't hard to notice that she'd caught the attention of the group of vampires to her right. Just as she hoped she would. She waited a moment longer, pretending not to hear their whispers, before she turned her head towards them. But she only met the rich brown eyes of her target. She sent him a short smile but didn't approach. It was better if he thought the first move was his.

She wasn't worried about him chickening out. And the fact that she had no reason to be was proven quickly enough. As the bartender placed her drink in front of her, Emma reached into her bag for her wallet, but was stopped before she had a chance to pay. "It's on me." His voice was just as she remembered it, smooth and calm. For a moment, memories of overheard conversations, of compulsion and manipulation rang through her ears. But she pushed them away, instead, turning to him with a pleased smile.

"Thank you." She said, her tone hiding just a touch of flirtation to make it known she wasn't going to turn him away. She searched his face, analysed the way he looked at her. He didn't seem to recognize her, which was good.

"It's the least I could do to welcome a new face around here." He responded, the smile on his face brightening his features and making him seem warm and friendly. Emma had no reason to think he was anything else. After all, whatever she could remember of him never made her fear him. He must've noticed the silence lasting just a second too long, taking it as surprise or curiosity and choosing to add. "I know everyone in the Quarter and yet I don't remember ever seeing you."

"Maybe you just forgot? It happens to the best of us." Emma suggested with a coy smile playing on her lips as she took a sip of her drink. Her words made him chuckle as he shook his head in denial.

"I doubt that's possible." He said, obviously meaning it as a compliment.

"I came into town just a few days ago." She dropped the pretence of acting like she'd been here for some time now and he just hadn't noticed her. After all, it didn't matter even if she told him she grew up here. At least not yet. "I'm Emma."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma. I'm Marcel." He introduced himself, taking hold of her extended hand and shaking it, his touch just a little too soft and lingering. "What brings you to New Orleans?"

"I'm looking for someone." She said, not yet revealing all of her cards. Lulling him into a false sense of security.

"Boyfriend?" He asked, the smile playing on his lips making it known he didn't even care for subtlety in that moment. The question made Emma let out a short laugh. She didn't put much effort into it, hoping to make it clear that wasn't a topic she would be eager to talk about.