Of Monsters and Men ₰ The Originals

Chapter Thirty Eight | Fragile Alliances

This book is based and inspired by the Originals, with a tinge of the Vampire Diaries. I suggest that you watch the shows to understand some occurrences.

All rights go to The Originals television show on the CW, and Lisa Jane Smith (the author), except the characters and events that are purely of my imagination. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, OR ELSE YOU'LL BE REPORTED.

I JUST WANT TO SAY THAT IF ANYONE IS COPYING SECTIONS FROM THIS BOOK THAT ARE OF MY INVENTION, PLEASE TAKE ACTION.

(EDITED)

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The song of the chapter is: Perfume by Britney Spears

Do I imagine it, or do I see your stare?

Is there still longing there?

Oh I hate myself, and I feel crazy,

Such a classic tale.

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          CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT ― FRAGILE ALLIANCES

     MY EYES FLICKER OPEN dazedly. I murmur something non-committal under my breath, dragging my fingers through my knotted hair, my body still demanding some rest. I click my tongue in annoyance as another vociferous drone slams across the morning air of the Compound, beating against my eardrums. What the hell were they building at this ungodly hour of morning?

     I forcefully push myself out of bed, yawning tiredly, quickly brushing my teeth before marching out into the indoor circular balcony. I grip the banisters and lean my head towards to the ground floor looking for the assholes to blame. There, equipped in his Armani suit as always, Elijah is pointing directions at some renovators, commandingly giving them orders as to where to put new furniture. I flinch at the exceeding loudness of drills, and wallpaper ripping, groaning. There were way better times to renovate, and all of them excluded morning time, in my opinion.

     "Enough with all the racket!" I look up towards Nik's bedroom, not surprised to see him angered at the infernal cacophony that resounded from below. "Is there a problem, brother?" Elijah asks innocently, before turning towards the workers. "Gentlemen, please."

     The noise decreases, and the brothers can now talk normally. "I agreed to a general sprucing up, not a bloody three-ring circus." Nik crosses his arms, walking down some stairs to get a better look at Elijah instead of awkwardly talking to him from above. "Marcel and his minions abused our home for the better part of a century. Now, you might be content to live in squalor. I'm not." Elijah shrugs his shoulders. Vaguely, I wonder why he chooses to wear suits at all times. Does it not get stifling?

     "I agree with your brother." A feminine voice perks up and I look away in exasperation. Genevieve and I might have had a heart-to-heart conversation yesterday, but it did not stop the pair from having another raucous slumber party. "It's a new era in the French Quarter. This place could use a makeover."

     "Careful, Elijah. When this one agrees with you, it's a sure sign she wants something." Nik smirks, leaning an arm against a banister. After a month of living together in the same house, I had grown to learn about Elijah's different irritated facial tics whenever he got annoyed at Genevieve; it was quite amusing to be honest. Right now, I could see him clench his jaw, causing me to smile. Perhaps he just created this ruckus to purposely disturb them. I wouldn't be surprised: everyone was kept awake late these nights because of those two.