"I would burn the world to the ground for you and it still wouldn't be enough."
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 things you cannot have is what Kalliope knew incredibly well. Spending years trapped within her naturally timid...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
KALLIOPE COULD NOT SLEEP EVEN with alcohol in her system, trauma in her heart, and tear stains on her rounded face. This was another night, fearing the dreams she would encounter once she closed her eyes. Her current situation didn't help either.
It was the middle of the night. Surprisingly quiet despite the shouting from earlier. Her ears were ringing at the silence. The pads of her bare feet touching the woven materials of the Persian rug on the stairs.
The Boarding House seemed eerie at night. Silhouettes of antique, grandfather clocks and decorative lamps filling the room by the moon shining through the tall windows. It felt like she was in a Labyrinth, seeking out clues to escape the haunted thistle bushes.
She wrapped her robe around herself. The only reason she had it was because someone left it outside her door, her nightie included. Kalliope didn't want to think of who exactly committed this act of kindness because she didn't want to be grateful. Being grateful would mean she had to push aside her hurt and she still needed time to sort that emotion out.
Glancing over her shoulder for fear of lurkers, Kalli inhaled when she saw the coast was clear. The Salvatore's would not be happy with her going down here of all places, but she needed a friend. Or any resemblance of a friend. This was the next best thing.
Pulling the tall secret door aside, Kalliope slipped past it and descended down the cold stone stairs into the cellar. The repetitive sounds of the house creaking could be heard more prominently down below. A chill racked through her body as the temperature changed. It was cold, dark and bleak. Truthfully, it reminded her of the first week enduring the black plague. Except there were no hacking children in the streets. No piles of bodies surrounded by flies. No hallucinating screams coming from the neighbor's home.
Elijah cellar door looked like all the others. Rusted metal bars over a thin window, bolted to the wall with a lock keeping it shut. Biting her lip, Kalliope tugged out a key she found in Damon's night stand. Where she found it the night they daggered Elijah. The key she had been harboring for herself for some time now, just in case.
Damon didn't know. Before tonight, she would've been torn apart at the aspect of him knowing this now. Now, she couldn't make herself care about being scolded anymore.
Unlocking the door, she pushed it open as quietly as she could. Each screech of rusted metal made her cringe. It was like nails on a chalk board.
It was inside where she found Elijah. She gasped at his burnt clothes and his disheveled appearance. A prominent frown weighing down her rounded cheeks. Suddenly, she procured a clean towel and a bottle of water, kneeling down beside him. Very carefully, she wetted the rag and started rubbing the soot from his handsome face. A click of her tongue in reprimand to the people who did such a thing to him.
