Eternal || Elijah Mikaelson

CXXXVIII - Fervour

I have been trying to update this chapter for a fucking HOUR

GRRrrrRRRRRRRrrrrRRrRRRRR I HATE EVERYTHING

Except you guys, you good

And Elijahhhhhh

But seriously though you have no idea how fun it was to write this chapter lIKE UGH MY BABIES YOU ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME

Elijah's getting jealoussss ;)))

Byeeeeeee :)

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Chapter One Hundred & Thirty-Eight

He stared up at me for a second, but then he gave me the weakest of smiles. "I wondered when you would appear, my dear Roseia."

I went up to him, and knelt down in front of him. He didn't have the energy to lean forwards, but I still felt slightly unsure. Was this really the right thing to do?

I set the bowl down beside me, and soaked the cloth in it before wringing it out. I wiped at the area around the bite on his neck, seeing him wince in pain and squirm a little.

"I'm sorry that they did this to you," I lied to him. From the expression on his face, he was falling for it. "I told them not to."

"And here I thought we were enemies," he said, his breathing beginning to become shallow.

"We are," I said immediately.

I placed the cloth directly on the bite, and his jaw clenched. I washed the blood away from the left side of the bite, then looked him in the eyes.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, coughing afterwards.

I bit my bottom lip, and saw an unknown emotion spark in his eyes. It was working.

"Why do you want to help me? Afraid I might die and you won't get enough information out of me?" he asked, a harshness lingering his voice. It appeared that he had a sudden surge of energy, because he sat up all the way.

"I love Elijah, but I do not condone this type of interrogation," I said, leaning a little closer to him angrily. "If you think that lowly of me, then I can leave right now."

He didn't say anything, the small bit of anger that had been in his eyes fading away.

I looked away from him and soaked the cloth again, squeezing it when I did. The water turned red, and I knew that his blood would stain the bowl. Blood often did that.

"How did you convince him to let you in?" he asked, and for a moment I wondered if his weakness had been an act.

"It wasn't hard. He trusts me."

"Should he?" he asked.

"No," I replied, though I was lying. Elijah knew he could trust me, and he was right. He knew that I would rather burn myself alive than be in the same room with Tristan, if I didn't absolutely have to be.

"Should I?"

I didn't answer him. Instead, I brought the cloth up to his neck, and when I finally got all of the blood away, I saw his expression. He was completely exhausted. He was going to die, and he knew it.

He suddenly collapsed, his torso falling forwards. I caught him, his head on my shoulder.

"I'm going to save you, Tristan," I whispered, my voice shaking. I hoped that he didn't hear the uncertainty and regret that lingered in it.