for over a thousand years, she has been on the run. she's gone through many names and different appearcances. now, she was astrid lockwood. tyler lockwood's '20-year old cousin' that bill forbes called to help with the male's sire problems.
but once...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•
based on what damon salvatore said, klaus was in town doing god knows what. she dreaded seeing him again. because, what if he kills her? kisses her? or worse of all, doesn't even recognize her because he forgot her?
she could feel her heart break at the idea of klaus no longer knowing who she was. she would take him killing her over him not even glancing her way.
in all her dreams, she hunted him, sometimes through the woods they had fallen in love in, sometimes in the commune of france, merindol, where she vowed to hate him all over again. always she chased, and always she caught him.
in the good dreams, she slammed him to the ground and stabbed his heart, the way he, figuratively, did her's, watching the life drain from his eyes, heart full of venacne. in the bad dreams, he kissed her. and she did not fight.
"so, lockwoof," damon said as he entered her room. she was currently residing in the salvatore boarding house, though carol lockwood offered her house, astrid couldn't accept. she might, after all, accidentally run into klaus there. "any plans for the day?"
she looked up from her book, and squinted her eyes. "depends."
damon jumped on her bed, landing beside her, and closed her book. "on? and seriously, romeo and juliet? i'm sure someone your age has read the most popular—and basic, if you're asking me—love story of all time."
"you'd be surprised at how well i know this story," astrid muttered before swiftly saying, "i know you did not just enter my room to berate my taste in literature."
"i cannot think of a nickname for you besides lockwoof, which sucks because a, you're not a lockwood and b, i already use that on your great-many greats-grandson."
astrid pinches the bridge of her nose. "why not tell me the reason you interrupted my reading first? then, we can talk about the prospect of nicknames, hm?"
"you're a smart one... tri-tri?" damon said and astrid scrunched her nose in disgust. "because your name is astrid and you're the tri—"
"i got it, damon."
"yes, well, anyways, stefan and i will go out for a while. just wanted to check in on you before we left," he said with a sweet tone, which scared astrid.
damon didn't say anything else as he smiled and walked away. astrid, confused, rolled her eyes and re-opened the book.
it was funny, damon saying she must have read romeo and juliet at least once in her long life. it was funny, because william shakespear was a dear friends of her's in the 16th century. but what was truly funny, was the fact that she shared her history with a certain mikaelson (of course, altering some details to prevent the poet from knowing just how old she was) to him.
