𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒚 | Elijah Mikaelson [1]

V

A/N: Regé-Jean Page as Brandon Bassett

Morrigan Brooks

"I'M going to sleep, but let me just say, thank god we weren't involved this time. This house desperately needed this." Eliza says and I nod, agreeing easily.

We spent the day decorating our house with some furniture, curtains and appliances that were not from the time when Eliza was born. I have no clue if anything of note happened today because Eliza and I spent the day in Richmond. IKEA to be exact.

I finally got a canopy bed and I was so fucking excited, but not as excited as I could have been since I still couldn't stop thinking about that letter that Elijah wrote.

1: Since when can a vampire come back from being staked by a bloody coat rack and be well enough to pour his heart out to some random girl.

2: I don't know why anyone would leave him since from my time being held hostage, all I remember other than 'what the fuck' is 'oh my god he's literally smoking hot'.

3: Why did he leave me that note? And how did he know my name? I distinctly heard it and I was still wracking my brain to try to remember if I have ever met him or anyone that may be associated with him.

"Yeah, I'll probably set up some of the stuff, but goddamn I'm not far behind you," I say, opening one of the many boxes with magic. I grabbed the piece of paper that I assumed were the instructions and took one look at them before I gave up.

Maybe I could get Damon to do it all for me. Who am I kidding? He'll totally do it for me. He'll take any excuse for him to take his shirt off.

I threw the instructions on the coffee table that thankfully came assembled and walked up the stairs while unzipping my weirdly tight boots.

Opening my door with the intent to take off my makeup and probably fall asleep in the bathtub while watching something trashy, my plans were disrupted by a certain handsome man in a suit.

"Shit!" I scream, throwing the closest thing (a clear quartz crystal) at him, which he easily catches.

"I just want to talk to you." He says and I put a hand over my heart to calm it.

"Um, no thanks, creepo." I say, putting my shoes away. Maybe if I go about my routine he'll go away.

"Wha-" He starts but I interrupt him.

"Now, I'm old, so I might be a bit slow, but to my understanding, it's not very polite to leave random girls love letters, asking why they left." 

He falters before speaking. "Random... girls?"

"Yes, weirdo. Have we ever met?" He takes too long to answer so I do it for him. "No. So please for the love of god don't make a habit of it. It's quite confusing actually." I say crossing my arms. He seems at a loss for words so I just push past him and rummage through my dresser drawers to see if I had any vervain.