Ghost of the Devil

The Originals

Sometimes suffering is just suffering. It doesn't make you stronger, it doesn't build character, it just hurts.

I slowly woke up in the morning, covered in a cold sweat, head pounding as if I'd just drunk the Mississippi in alcohol. I looked around the room I was in - it was old fashioned, almost like the people who lived here had been here for centuries.
'May I come in?' A rough, but elegant voice spoke from the other side of the door, I slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of my eye.
'I.. Yeah.. come in' I watched the door, curious to see who was on the other side.

He slowly walked in, Neatly pressed suit, hair slicked back, piercing dark brown eyes and a smile that could end wars.
'How are you feeling?' He stared as he spoke, like he was trying to put together pieces of a puzzle.
'I'm... I'm okay' I watched him. My body ached, but part of self preservation is never letting people see you hurt. I moved back in the bed slowly as he began to walk toward me
'I'm not going to hurt you..' his voice was both rough and soothing, but I believed him. I stayed in my spot, staring at him, studying his face and trying to figure out his next move. 'Let me see..' he slowly tilted my head to the side, inspecting the deep gash in my temple. I flinched slightly at first, but then grabbed his wrist and pulled him away from my head.
'I'm fine.' I spoke, sternly.
'You don't look fine to me' he counteracted.
'Why do you care?' I questioned as I pushed his wrist away.
'I won't hurt you, I give you my word..' he stared at me again, I think he was both hurt and inquisitive.
I bit down on my lip and slowly looked up at him, dropping my guard very slightly.
'I'm Hayley' I offered him my hand.
'Elijah mikaelson.' He shook my hand. 'Now tell me,' he slowly sat on the side of the bed 'why have you not yet healed?'