Stella was known for making mistakes. Detrimental mistakes. Falling for him might just be the biggest one she ever made.
Set in the 1800s, New Orleans.
Based on Flashbacks from the Originals with additional content.
Daily updates.
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When Stella reached the room next to Emil's old nursery, she wasn't sure how to go about entering the room. She could open the door easily enough, but that would rely on the hope that Kol would be asleep. Then she remembered who she was. She wasn't a normal person that would have to worry. If Kol caught her sneaking into his bedroom, she could silence him with her magic. Problem averted.
With that thought in mind, she opened the door. Her eyes found the bed immediately. It was empty. No one was there.
However, she knew that she had the right room. On the bedside table, her journal sat idly. She could see a book mark sticking out of the top of it. It was a good job too. It gave her the extra jolt of anger she needed to push aside the doubt.
With no further hesitation, she crossed the room and slid under his bed where she'd wait for his return. He couldn't be gone for long. After all, it was well and truly dark outside now. In the dark, there wasn't much to do.
And so she waited. And then she waited a little more until finally she heard the gentle pad of footsteps entering the room and the soft creaking of the door. Stella couldn't help her jealousy. If she could walk that quietly, there'd be no end to the schemes she could get away with. Above her head, the bed made a creaking sound as Kol perched upon it. Stella could see his feet a few inches away from her face. Surprisingly, they didn't smell all that bad.
Pushing all thoughts of his feet aside, she focused on the matter at hand. As soon as Kol fell to sleep, she was going to have to kill him. For the safety of the New Orleans witches. It had to be done.
She wasn't sure how she felt about this. She'd never killed anyone before. The thought of Mabel comforted her. Mabel had killed tonnes of people before. Plus, the coven didn't exactly have the cleanest of hands. If they had to, they killed people all the time. Especially when it came down to family.
She'd be fine.
When the candle went out, she waited even longer. Her leather coated hand held the material to cover his mouth, the dagger was still waiting. Once his steady breathing reached her ears, she waited a little longer, deciding to stay safe.
After what felt like forever, Stella crawled out from under the bed.
She tried not to focus on the peaceful look on the handsome man's face. She couldn't let it put her off from what she had to do. Preparing, she placed her dagger on top of her journal.
As she very carefully manoeuvred the material around his head until it covered his mouth, she wondered what his hair must feel like. It looked awfully soft. Much softer than Emil's.
She shook herself, horrified by her thoughts.
She was seconds away from killing the man and here she was thinking about his hair! Ridiculous. Although, he did have quite a pretty face.
