Ace of Hearts

23

I'm a black hole.

It's the only accurate representation I can come up with. I feel as though I'm suspended in space. A giant vacuum that swallows whole words and every ounce of light that comes too close. It's fitting right now. No one has been able to come near me since I took Kol's ring and stopped talking. Even Klaus only attempted it to carry me over to the couch.

Now he's continuously moving with the force and rage of a hurricane. His steps sends tremors through the floor as he paces, shouts, and slams his palm against the barrier that Bonnie put up the second she arrived. Everyone seems terrified of what either of us will do.

I can feel their eyes watching me; their breaths holding each time I seem to move. It brings me a twisted sense of joy. Something about knowing that I can make them tremble in fear is empowering. It makes sense to me now why Klaus and Kol adopted their personas.

There's also an air of apology that fills the room. My words seemed to have struck a cord in Elena, because it didn't take long for her to run out of the house. She came back after Caroline and the others arrived.

Apparently, everyone wanted to see if their grand plan had worked after all, if Jeremy's tattoo will complete and they'll live long enough to decipher it. This is one time that knowing what the outcome will be isn't ideal. Still, since they don't know the truth is, I decide to add a little extra torture to the waiting—just for my own sake.

One by one, Stefan, Damon, Caroline, and Elena double over in pain. A flicker of sheer panic flutters through the room. "Oh my god. We were wrong?" Elena cries out right before she starts to cough. The group attempts to comfort each other, but only succeed in writhing from the pain.

A dark part of me doesn't need to watch to find a twisted enjoyment from this. It's the same part of me that refuses to be taken to a hospital yet or given any blood. Because right now, I need the pain. I need something to distract me from the hollow spot in my chest, which makes the world seem too viciously real. The fabric of the couch beneath my fingers too rough. My breathing sounding like a tornado in my ears. Worst of all, the sight of the charred floor that peaks out from the tarp.

Klaus somehow manages to lay a hand on my shoulder, which pulls me back from myself. He doesn't need to speak for me to get his message. Right now, he's the only person who can reach me, but that's because he's already drowning in the same grief I am.

My eyes remain locked on the same spot on the floor as I release them. "Wait, I'm fine!" Caroline cheers. "But if we're all fine, then what—?" Her voice drags off, and shock takes away her voice.

I dare to glance up. All eyes in the room are locked on me. Some of them show sorrow, apologies, and shock mingled with curiosity—which come from the majority of the group. Damon and Elena, on the other hand, stare me down in anger, disgust, and—if I'm not mistaken—a twinge of fear. Good, let them know a little bit of the enemy they've made.

"You little—" Damon prepares an insult, to which I turn my head with a slightly raised eyebrow in amusement, but he barely makes it two steps before Stefan stands in his way.

"Damon, take a breath. Now's not the time."

"Why because she lost her boyfriend?" Damon snaps at his brother. "News flash, Stefan, he tried to kill us all multiple times. This time he—" His words snap off as he clutches his head in agony. The tiny blood vessels in his brain stretch and pop, heal, and repeat. I receive another glare from him, which I return with the empty, careless gaze I know I've mastered in the past hour. "Fine. I'm sorry." I give him one extra push for good measure before leaving him be.

The rest of the night becomes a series of distant mumbles. People talking to one another, occasionally to me, but I ignore them all. Even as I'm taken to the hospital, as nurses poke and prod, x-ray and question me, I don't flinch or speak.