Blue ▹ The Originals [2]

CHAPTER FIFTY

CHAPTER FIFTY
SATIN DOLL

"You can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside themselves quietly."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

     "You said you'd take me to Nik," Henrik complained lightheartedly as he and Francis walked down the street. They had left the car a block away since the sun was going down and the air was getting colder. It was the perfect night and the perfect town for a walk, even if they had things to do. Henrik slid closer and reached for Francis's hand, tangling their fingers together and pressing against Francis's side, sending him a few steps sideways. Francis let out a small grunt, the only sign that the push had mildly annoyed him, and it made Henrik laugh. He stopped pushing against Francis's side and decided to bring their clasped hands to his mouth. He pressed a kiss to the back of Francis's hand. "Are we headed toward Nik, or...?"

"We're making a small detour," Francis announced. Henrik raised his eyebrows, a little surprised by that. Considering how intense Francis had been about keeping Henrik as far away from the other pieces of the Hollow as possible, it seemed odd that he was intentionally letting Henrik stay this close to Klaus longer than he had to. It made Henrik narrow his eyes in suspicion.

"What are you up to?" he demanded, only to see the corner of Francis's mouth quirk up into a small smirk. Henrik tugged a little on his hand, trying to get him to fess up, but Francis just remained silent. Henrik huffed out a breath. "If you don't want me to see Nik, just say so."

"Over a decade together and you still have no patience," Francis sighed, his turn to tug on Henrik's hand. He brought Henrik closer, then released his hand just to wrap his arm around Henrik's waist, securing him there. Henrik huffed out an amused breath. Francis leaned over to quickly press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. He pulled back before Henrik could turn his head and return the gesture. "No need to get impatient. We're here." Francis motioned ahead. Henrik blinked and looked forward, only to see that they were headed towards a small bar, tucked between a tall building and a small boutique. Henrik tilted his head in confusion. Francis wasn't a big fan of small, intimate bars. They felt too personal, too cramped.

"A bar?" Henrik asked, stopping a few feet from the door and turning to look at Francis fully. He was frowning now, a little less playful. Something inside of him already knew why Francis had brought him to such a place, but his mind hadn't quite put the pieces together yet. Perhaps he didn't want to. Francis didn't respond to his silent question; he just leaned his shoulder against the brick building and nodded toward the door, encouraging Henrik to go inside alone. Just by that gesture, Henrik should have put the pieces together, but instead he chose to say, "I swear, if this is a compelled-to-forget Cami bartending I'm going to personally kick Klaus's ass—"

He opened the bar door, heard the sound of a piano playing softly, and promptly let it fall shut again. He took a step away, fully prepared to turn back around and demand Francis to take him to Klaus instead. It was easy to be in denial about who Francis had been leading him towards until he'd heard the piano, but denial could only really take him so far. His chest felt tight, his jaw clenching as he tried to keep in all the anger and hurt that suddenly came rushing up. He wasn't even sure who he was angry at, exactly. Himself, for not realizing why Klaus was in Manosque. Klaus, for being incapable of staying away from Elijah. Francis, for not giving him a little bit of warning before he had Henrik almost enter a bar where Elijah was. Or Elijah himself, for erasing his entire family from his mind without even bothering to say goodbye to a single one of them.