napalm skies <<>> kol mikaelson

19

"like condensation after a storm, your ghost still haunts me."

19 | SENIOR PRANK NIGHT

October, 1886

She felt his fingertips on her like they were brands, like he was marking wherever he touched, making it clear to anyone and everyone that she was his. The marks disappeared immediately after, but she craved more. She wanted the pain, ached for the harsh grips against her wrists, ached for the demanding pressure against her lips, ached for the way he would groan in her ear when she raked her nails down his back, curving her body against his and feeling as if every breath he took was shared inside her own lungs. It was heavenly, and yet it felt hellish—an evil sin that she probably should've washed out long ago, but she didn't mind the idea of eternal hellfire. If she was next to him, she'd fall into flames any day.

She scraped her nails against the side of his face, hooking a finger underneath his jawline, and he hummed into the kiss, breaking it just barely. When he spoke, she could feel every letter against her mouth. "Star, you'll get the sheets bloody," he pointed casually, but she knew he didn't really care, considering the pleased amusement in his voice. Although, a warmth bloomed in her chest at the new nickname he had taken to calling her. "I thought you liked these ones."

"I'll like the next ones more," she muttered, pulling him closer and planting a bruising kiss against him. He clearly wasn't going to put up a fight, and he hardly ever did. Whenever Charlotte wanted something, he usually gave it to her.

She wanted more, but Kol groaned loudly, detangling himself from her and slipping out of her grasp before she could pull him back into the sun-streaked bed. She released a soft whine, looking up at him with a pouting expression.

"Don't look at me like that," Kol said laughingly, moving to the side to pull on his pants. Charlotte turned onto her stomach and watched him languidly, kicking her feet lazily behind her and tilting her head to get a better look. Kol noticed her staring, and when he dragged the hem of the trousers to his waistline, he smirked. "Don't look at me like that either."

She smiled sinfully, interlacing her fingers and flattening them to make a platform her chin could rest on. "Why? Tempted?"

"Ridiculously so," Kol replied immediately, then shook himself a bit when Charlotte started to smirk. "No. Darling, do not tell me you wish to spend your entire birthday inside?"

Charlotte hummed, her eyes still raking over his naked chest. "Well, I don't suppose it would be a terrible gift, now would it?"

Kol grinned. "As flattered as I may be, I have other plans for you," he replied, raising his chin a little. "Get dressed."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Oh, how bossy," she mused, not moving an inch. Instead, she glanced, with boredom, at her nails, checking that they were smooth and pristine. "You will have to do more than that sorry excuse to get me out of this bed."

Within the blink of an eye, Charlotte had been swooped up into his arms, the sheet wrapping around her body haphazardly so that it looked as if she were wearing an incredibly long Roman tunic. She clutched his bare chest with an airy giggle, and when she tilted her head, he was already gazing down at her with gleaming eyes.

"Well, I suppose I could dress you myself," he mused, eyebrows raised. Turning, he began walking to the large closet, the sheet trailing behind him.

Her lips curved wryly, her own eyes sparkling like stars. "Hm, I'm not certain that's a great incentive either."

"I can dress you slowly," he amended.

She patted him lightly, her smile widening as his did the same. "Better."