WARNING: THIS STORY HAS BEEN RE'WRITTEN AND MAY NOT RESEMBLE THE PREVIOUS READ YOU CAME TO LOVE. WHILE SOME ELEMENTS MAY REMAIN THE SAME I HAVE ALTERED THE NARRATIVE...
Originally: 'It's Been 1000 Years, Still Remember Me?'
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1000 years old and...
The small cabin Nik had holed us up in was absolutely adorable, my role to simply roam the grounds as he ran around the woodlands of Denver to convert all manners of wolves. The building wasn't as extravagant as Rebekah had described their last thousand years--the family becoming accustomed to a life of luxury and wealth after killing the right people shortly after turning. It was a small and wooden structure though it wasn't at all cramped, it was rather cozy in fact. It held three bedrooms, two downstairs, and one master on the upper floor. Nik had offered the largest option to me, claiming I deserved only the best as his kidnapped guest. That made me laugh and I playfully offered he joined me to fill out such a large room. I don't know why there was a change, the comment I would have willingly said in jest when we were both mostly human rather than a beast. Yet something lonely entered his eyes, and I didn't see him for the rest of the night...
The banging of a closed-door pulled me away from the words of my book, drawing me to set the fairytale aside so I could see what Niklaus brought home with him tonight. I noticed the bodies before I'd even finished descending the staircase, my eyes rolling on instinct as Nik wiped away the last dribble of blood from his lips:
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"Oh, don't be like that sweetheart."
I ignored the man, reaching for the wrists of one of the two girls strewn across the sofa. I detected a pulse my super-hearing couldn't recognize, one that was barely there. "At least I don't have to dig their graves just yet."
"Don't pout, love. I have a gift," the kitchen counter was motioned toward, blood bags gleaming under the glow of the sun setting. My lips twitched with the sight. Since the production of blood in a bag, I'd become accustomed to consuming my meals in that fashion, to the point where the whole snatch, eat, erase game became dull to me now. At a thousand years of age, I didn't need much sustenance anyway, but knowing I wasn't stealing people's memories or taking another life just so I could exist another day. It lessened the guilt of nearly a millennium of anger outbursts, bloodlust, and pointless death. Nik accepting and facilitating that part of me decreased my annoyance toward his mood swings over the last few days...
"Thank you." There wasn't really much else to say. While his attitude toward me had been erratic, he made sure to implement these moments that showed just how much he cared about me, just how much he actually listened to me when we sat with a glass of wine or whiskey and discussed the thousand years of the others life that we'd missed..."Are you joining me for drinks this evening?"
