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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"Stella!" Stella's eyes snapped open. She groaned, wishing she could be the type of person that could fall to sleep with the light of the day in the way. Alas, there was no such luck. It didn't seem to matter how far she buried herself into her pillow. She'd been awoken and that was that. As she rubbed the sleep free from her eyes, her bedroom door burst open. Through it, her older sister Mabel appeared. In her hand, she thrust about some parchment madly. Her piercing eyes pinned Stella to the bed. "Were you planning to tell me about this anytime soon?"
"Tell you about what, Mabel? I don't know what you're talking about."
Mabel was speaking far too loud for such an early hour in the morning. Stella just wanted to go back to sleep. She had her sister to blame for her consciousness.
"The Governor's throwing a ball soon in name of his guests," Mabel announced as if that was supposed to mean something to the younger witch. "The Mikaelsons."
It meant a little bit more now.
"How was I supposed to know that the Mikaelsons were going to throw a ball? I don't monitor them."
Frustrated, Stella shoved her dark hair out of her face. It was far too early to be dealing with Mabel Mendacium and the girl's obnoxiously loud shrieking.
"I never said that you do," Mabel argued. "Although, I noticed something on the invites."
Had Stella been more awake, she would've been more cautious. Some rather big things had happened in her life as of recent. Big things that she'd neglected to tell her sister.
"I'm sure you did," Stella brushed the argument aside tiredly. "You know, the Mikaelsons and the Gerard's are rich. It's no surprise that they can afford fancy invites for you to notice."
The invites were rather nice. Whoever had penned them had lovely hand writing. If Stella had cared more for the little things in life, she might've ever found it within herself to be jealous. Alas, she didn't really care. Pity.
"I didn't mean the invites in general. On the back of your invite, there's a message."
"What?" Stella was alert now. Her eyes were taking in Mabel's face carefully, looking for anything that might give her away. Mabel didn't know a thing about the Mikaelsons. They hadn't even met yet.
"Oh yes. 'Darling Stella, do save me a dance. I so love your company'."
Of course, Stella knew who it was immediately. There was only one cocky idiot in New Orleans that had taken to calling her 'Darling'. That was a darkly attractive vampire with danger in his eyes. He refused to leave Stella alone. The feelings she felt for him were conflicting. On the one hand, she didn't want him to leave her alone. Stella enjoyed his presence as well as the attention he showered her in. On the other hand, Stella wanted him gone very much. It was definitely danger that she perceived in his eyes. In the presence of danger, the odds of her being safe were incredibly low.
