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Tears fogged her vision, preventing her from seeing clearly as she stumbled out of the club, withholding the whimper that wanted to so desperately fall from her lips.
She couldn't believe how her husband had spoken to Stefan, it fuelled her with enough emotions to cause a migraine.
He'd spoken like they were back in the tenth century, like she was his property and a possession, her only duty to fulfil his pleasures, to be at his beck and call.
But this wasn't the tenth century, the century they'd wed within. It was 1922, times were changing and the movement for women and equality was becoming more prominent.
She'd witnessed it herself, through the world war- the war Marcel had graciously fought within. Whilst many men were away fighting, the women had mucked down themselves.
They'd pulled their weight, keeping the country running smoothly with pride. It had began a movement; one she was sure would continue through the years.
A shiver racked her petite frame as the cold, brittle wind blew fiercely. It seemed even cooler than it had been when they'd first arrived at the speakeasy, and Astrid was beginning to regret not wearing a jacket that night.
She no longer had Nik's white suit jacket wrapped around her shoulders, protecting her from the harsh Chicago weather. The temperature had no doubt dropped to a minus, not that it differed her.
She continued to wonder aimlessly down the road, uncertain of where she was going, but allowing her feet to control her regardless.
At that moment she just needed to escape, to get away from the speakeasy, to get away from Nik, to get away from the situation. She hadn't wanted him to see her tears, to show him how upset she truly was.
She didn't want to give him the satisfaction that after all these years, his words still had such a large effect on her.
Niklaus had turned like a flip of a switch, going from supporting husband to sexist pig. Perhaps it was the influence of the young and foolish vampire, but then again Niklaus was nine-hundred-years old, he wasn't an easily influenced young vampire...
The words he had so confidently spoke initially had fell from his lips, not Stefan's. Though his confidence had soon wavered when he'd caught sight of the furious blonde.
Perhaps then Stefan would see that the almighty Klaus wasn't as powerful as he once had thought, at least not around his wife.
Shaking her head, Astrid let out a shaky breath, her hand resting on her stomach. Seemingly so far from any active civilisation, Astrid finally allowed the edging tears to fall, droplets spilling down her cheeks.
Sniffling, Astrid wiped her tears when she noticed a figure ahead. They were slumped over a park bench, looking just as gloomy as her.
Wiping her tears away, Astrid slowly approached the bench, glancing besides her to take in the other person. It was a man, an extremely attractive, yet sad man.
