Blue ▹ The Originals [2]

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LAUGHTER, GUITARS, AND DANCING

"I'll thank my lucky stars for that night."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

     A few days later, Henrik found himself inside Hope's nursery, holding the little girl close in an attempt to calm yet another one of her fits. She had been restless and upset ever since Jackson had died. She wasn't sleeping well, and she couldn't be left alone for more than thirty minutes before she was wailing her little head off. It was like she was afraid more of her loved ones would disappear and never come back like Jackson did. His family had decided to take turns with her; whoever was free when she started crying would be the one to get her. Considering Klaus was passed out after spending the entire night with her, Freya and Elijah were running errands, and Hayley was calming down her pack, Henrik was the only option.

He didn't mind. He just hoped someone would be available later that day. If Hope needed him, he would cancel his plans in a heartbeat, but that didn't mean he particularly wanted to.

He shifted Hope in his arms when she let out another small cry, hands tightening around the collar of his shirt.

"My sweet, sweet girl," he murmured, going to sit in one of the rocking chairs. He didn't know when someone had placed a second one in the room, and he didn't really care. He just sat down in the one closest to the window and placed Hope on his lap, rocking back and forth. He flicked his fingers, hoping his spark trick would cheer her up. She didn't laugh, but she did calm down and stare with wide eyes. He sighed and curled an arm around her, keeping her close. "I hate seeing you so upset."

A small knock caught his attention. He looked up, seeing Hayley leaning against the doorway. She looked exhausted, dark circles under her eyes, clothes slightly wrinkled. She opened her mouth, then hesitated before closing it again. Eventually, her eyes settled on Hope, who was finally settling down, her eyelids drooping in exhaustion.

"She misses Jack," Hayley whispered, stepping further into the room with slow, careful steps. "She doesn't understand why he isn't here. I wish I could explain it to her." Henrik didn't respond, eyes now glued to Hope. Her cheek was pressed against his chest. Hayley took another step closer, then sank herself into the other rocking chair, letting out a small sigh in relief. Henrik still didn't look at her. His entire focus was on Hope, on making sure he didn't accidentally jostle her awake. Hayley was silent for a few minutes as they both watched her, and then she spoke. "Henrik, I—I'm really—" She stopped when Hope shifted. Thankfully, she didn't wake, and Henrik glanced up with a raised eyebrow.

"Really what, Hayley?" he whispered when she didn't continue. She blinked, then averted her gaze to Hope's crib.

"I'm sorry," she said with another sigh. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you. There's no excuse for it. None of it was your fault, I was just—" She stopped to her shake her head. "I shouldn't have said those things to you—"

"No," Henrik agreed calmly. "You shouldn't have." He no longer felt anger when he thought about it, but he didn't feel shame, either. His conversation with Francis hadn't just calmed him temporarily, it had stuck in his mind, had made a significant impact. "You know, I had a lot of things I wanted to say back to you?" he asked when Hayley didn't seem to know how to respond, how to continue. "A lot of very cruel things, crueler than you were being. It wouldn't have even been out of grief, like you, it just would have been out of anger. But I didn't say any of them because I knew you didn't mean any of it and that it would have been disrespectful to Jackson's memory. I controlled myself...but I haven't before." Ever since Hayley's outburst, he'd been thinking of all the times he had lashed back at people who lashed out at him first, of all the times he'd responded toward grieving or rightfully angry people with nothing but defensive anger and violence.