Devil's Angel ° {K.M}[Rewriting]

{004}

A/N: This is a full chapter because it's one of those chapters where I can't just add it up in a few paragraphs.

Let The Right One In
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"I'll spread my wings, and I'll learn how to fly. I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky and I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change and breakaway." —Kelly Clarkson {Breakaway}
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"The wedding is in two weeks?!" Eleanora couldn't believe what she was hearing. She had turned seventeen merely last week and that in and of itself had been a begrudging experience considering that most of it consisted of the town's sons and their fathers trying for her hand as if she was a prize to be won. The aggravating fact that she had been promised to the eldest Salvatore son for years now was disregarded by the lot and for once, Eleanora had found herself annoyed by it. "You said twenty-one. You said I had time!"

James frowned at his daughter, "I thought you were beginning to like Damon, dear. It's been seven years." The young woman gritted her teeth as she released her skirt with a huff, swallowing down the bubbling anger with some difficulty. "Friends, father. We've just become friends shortly after we actually saw past the contract for long enough to see that we're both stuck in this together whether we like it or not and now you are going to throw it right back in our faces!" Elizabeth stood and approached, expression soft and apologetic as she reached for her daughter's hand. 

"I'm sorry, Eleanora but we cannot wait any longer. The bank. . . the bank has given us three weeks or we will lose our land and our home." Some of the fight drained from her eyes as she stared up at her mother, her shoulders sagging with her following sigh. "Mother. . ," She was reminded once again that this wasn't about her or Damon. This was about money and her parents' livelihood and for Giuseppe Salvatore? A descendant to later inherit his wealth. "If we are to be married in two weeks, when does he expect a child?"

Their silence was deafening. Her mother released her hand and wouldn't meet her eyes. Her father found his desk more interesting. When the silence was breached, Eleanora wished they had never spoken. "Within a year of the wedding." Wordlessly, the young woman took a step back. "A year," she echoed, gaze absent as she staggered back. Elizabeth's expression twisted with sympathy, "Sweetheart—" Eleanora drifted out of her mother's reach, shaking her head with a gasp. "No, I think. . . I think I need to be alone. I-I'll," she braced her hand against the frame, inhaling shakily, "I'll be in the gardens. Please don't. . . don't."

The parents watched helplessly as their daughter left the room and subsequently their home. Though every part of them itched to chase after her, to reassure her worries and quell her fears, they knew she needed the time alone.

~

As a storm raged on outside, the onyx-haired girl tucked under her duvet tossed and turned as she dreamed of a life that didn't belong to her. The dreams—or visions—had persisted for weeks, coming to her at night while she slept. America told no one about them, doubting anyone would understand or be able to explain to her what any of it meant or why it was happening. Not to mention, the fact that in these dreams, she saw through Eleanora's eyes and once, when the woman had passed by her reflection in a mirror. . . America saw her own face staring right back at her. 

It had been brief but she had it etched into her mind now and there was mistaking that they weren't just lookalikes. Not now when America was dreaming of the woman's life as she was certain Elena wasn't experiencing the same crazy with Katherine's past life. So, she was essentially on her own—at least if she was thinking of going to the people who knew something about Eleanora and all two of them were horrible ideas. Stefan would be concerned and in all honesty, probably try and get her sister's opinion and slip up and eventually it would get around to Damon and that wouldn't blow over well.