Nathan Smith

Being in the airport was always stifling and Rebekah took a moment to adjust her hearing, not wanting to listen to each maudlin reunion that these humans had. She loved her brothers, truly she did, but at this point in time, she was ready to simply pretend they didn’t exist for at least another year.

Living without Nathan was not, of course, completely unbearable. They’d often gone more than a couple of weeks without the other and technology always made time apart go by in a quicker manner than she’d been used to most of her life. But this was the longest and the fact that she wasn’t doing something she enjoyed certainly made her miss him more.

And having to fall asleep to the sound of her brothers trying to rip each other to shreds made her appreciate what she had when she wasn’t with them. She appreciated Nathan’s arms, the teasing quirk of his lips, the stubble that caressed her skin, the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the world. It was this thought that gave Rebekah pause as she stood in the arrivals area of the airport.

She smelled him before she heard him and was overcome with the feeling that this was home. His hands slipped over her eyes and she smiled, the first true smile she’d given in weeks. Had he always been a closet romantic? Rebekah’s grin widened as he whispered in her ear and for all the etiquette, all the propriety, all the grace she usually displayed, it was thrown out the window at the sound of his voice.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she murmured. “My other boyfriend?” She turned in his arms, dropping her bag with a resounding thud as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and jumped up so her legs wound around his hips. She was giving the onlookers a display she probably shouldn’t, but in this moment she didn’t care.  Rebekah’s nose touched his and she looked into his eyes, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, as she pressed a kiss to every expanse of skin she could reach, stopping only when her lips were pressed tightly against his. She closed her eyes as she allowed the taste of Nathan to consume her and when she pulled back, she pressed her forehead against his.

“Missed the hell out of me, huh?” her voice teased him. “I missed you too, love.”

He let out a fake, dramatic gasp just in time to catch her as she jumped into his arms. “He’s gonna be so pissed when he sees this,” Nate joked as she kissed every bit of exposed skin, trying to hold back a laugh. He absolutely intended to return the favor in kind, but it would have to be somewhere private, somewhere he could be unabashedly primal with her.

His thoughts were only encouraged when their lips finally met after weeks of separation, when he could taste the gloss she’d coated on. A hand cupped the back of her head, an attempt to bring her in closer, as if that was humanly--or even inhumanly--possible. What the airport must think of them.

Aesthetic: A Natebekah Christmas

It’s the first holiday they’ve spent with either of their families. The previous Christmas they spent apart – the first time since they’d gotten together – and as she’d left, her brother had ordered implored her to bring Nathan to visit in New Orleans during midsummer. It wasn’t a request so much as it was an order, though Rebekah found that she didn’t mind in this regard. As much as she doesn’t want to expose Nathan to her family, he’s already met them. He’s already met them, knows their faults, and still he loves her.

So Rebekah says yes and hopes that the love of her life will agree.

Realistically, if one were to put a holiday to it, American Independence falls a couple of weeks after the summer solstice. And so, the blonde had thought that would be an acceptable enough holiday to bring Nathan around her family without adding pressure from the “bigger” holidays. It wasn’t that he didn’t know her family – for he did, regrettably so – but the fact that he’d never been around them as more than another hybrid, as more than her friend, gave her pause. She had seen what her brothers could do to potential suitors and she found that she didn’t want Nathan to be given the third degree.

He had always been different to her. Though she knew he could handle anything they would throw at him, she found that she didn’t want him to have to.

Over a decade ago, when Rebekah had asked Nik for the only gift she’d asked him for in nearly a century – to let Nathan go – she had never realized that it would end up this way. She’d never realized that it would end up with them sharing a bed, sharing a life, and considering spending eternity together. In truth – though she regrets feeling this way now – she’d often thought that she and Nathan would lose touch at some point. It wasn’t that she didn’t think the best of him, but she had seen what time and space could do to people. It broke apart tenuous friendships, separated relationships, and though she loved him, she’d never considered that maybe he’d cared for her quite as much as she’d adored him. And, really, she was used to people moving on and forgetting she existed until they wanted something from her. So, ultimately, Rebekah had expected nothing from the man when she’d left Mystic Falls a decade ago.

After all, Rebekah Mikaelson has long known that fate was always working against her. It was a consequence of being a vampire.

Until fate didn’t. Until a winter day in Reykjavik when she, resigned to being alone at Christmas, had turned her head and seen the blue eyes she’d wondered about for months. When a day among old friends became a holiday – or really, a fortnight of a holiday – that she still had trouble defining.

That day, unlike many others, had changed the course of her existence. It had set her on a course with someone else, when she’d been trying for so long to be on her own. When she had thought she was destined to be alone no matter how much she might not want to. It had set her on a course for today, the third of July, absentmindedly shredding her travel itinerary in her hands as Nathan drives them to the old Mikaelson house in the French Quarter of New Orleans. The BMW engine was quiet as it navigated the city streets and the only thing playing on the radio was soft jazz.

“You know it’s not a big deal, right?” Nathan asked her, turning his head as his hand moves to intertwine with hers. “I’ve met them before. If they didn’t scare me a decade ago, they’ll have a hell of a time doing so now.” His eyes crinkle.

Rebekah loves him. She really does. She even loves the fact that he thinks this is no big deal when she knows quite well that it’s a bloody fucking interrogation. Her three brothers who will all want to know his intentions while her older sister – that she’s still not sure she likes – sits on the sidelines trying to understand this new dynamic. There’s power at work here, though she doesn’t want to deter him, doesn’t want to make him lose the earnest nature that’s reflected in his eyes.

And so, Rebekah gives him a smile and squeezes his hand even though she knows what’s going to happen will be nothing like what he’s envisioned. But Nathan has been there for so many things and maybe, just maybe, Rebekah should trust his judgment on this one. Even though she’s known her family for centuries.

The Abbatoir is quiet when they enter and Rebekah leads Nathan to what used to be her room. Nothing seems to have changed in the century since she’s been there, though it seems that a maid has changed the sheets and removed the dust. She sets her bag on her bed and raises an eyebrow as Nathan does the same and moves toward her.

“You’re too tense,” he tells her as his hands move up and down her arms, lips pressing a kiss to her neck. She relaxes, minimally, and closes her eyes. “There is nothing they could say that would make me leave,” he whispers, correctly deciphering her agitated state. But she already knows this. She knows that his devotion is as wide as the ocean, his capacity for forgiveness only slightly less, and she also knows that he loves her with all he has to give. She loves him just as much.

But it’s not that. Not really. Rebekah, for one of the first times in her existence, isn’t concerned for herself. No, she’s concerned for him. She’s concerned about what will happen if her brothers push too far. Because she will always stick up for what is hers and Nathan has not seen that side of her. Not yet. He’s seen her tenaciousness, yes, but he has never seen just how much tunnel vision she can get. He has not seen just what she will sacrifice for what she loves. And would he love her if he saw that?

So, honestly, it’s not about what her brothers could do that would push him away – it’s her own actions that she’s afraid of. But she doesn’t say that to him, merely turns in his arms and presses a kiss to his lips.

“Let’s go face the Inquisition,” she quips, her lips curving up into a smirk that does not reach her eyes.

But, shockingly, it seems that Nathan is right. Her brothers are, while not necessarily welcoming, somewhat conciliatory when they enter the parlor. Nik smiles – it’s one that just barely meets the eyes, which instantly puts Rebekah on edge – and Elijah shakes Nathan’s hand before kissing his sister on the cheek perfunctorily. Kol pours them each a drink and toasts them before downing the rest of the bottle. Well, that she expected.

There are fireworks that evening and the next and none of them are sober – not even Elijah – until the fifth of July, but Bekah delights in it, in the freedom, in the passion, in the safe space of her family and Nathan. But really she just enjoys winning the drinking competition.

The rest of the week is fairly mild, the most difficult part being when Kol brings home a compelled cheerleader to feed from. Nathan has never been comfortable about her fresh freeding and Rebekah refrains at the moment from doing so, knowing that he matters more than her urge, her need, her hunger for the blood that’s flowing right in front of her. It’s for him that she stands back, her eyebrows rising as she looks at her brother with every bit of strength she possesses.

The rest of the week is relaxing for the most part. They sightsee, they spend time with her family, Nathan gets to meet her sister when Freya finally shows her face, and when they get time together, she looks at him as if she’s seeing him for the first time. Each day, she wakes up waiting for the shoe to drop but it never does and by their last night there, Rebekah allows herself to enjoy the surprise of being wrong. When they’re in bed, sweat glistening on their skin, she turns back toward him, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I love you,” she whispers as his fingers draw patterns on her skin.

They don’t sleep much that night.

It is only when they are leaving, nearly a week after they’ve arrived, that Nathan clears his throat and she turns her head. “So,” he begins with a wry grin. “This morning when you were in the shower, I was asked about my intentions and told that if I so much as break your heart, I’ll find myself in pieces. Apparently my heart will be scattered to the ends of the earth. Whether you’re talking to them at the time or not.” He’s somewhat amused, his lips quirking as he tells her how her three brothers cornered him in the dining room, her sister a sidepiece in the conversation much as she’s become a sidepiece in their lives.

Rebekah looks at him, her expression somewhat shocked. Though part of her is touched that her brothers love her this much, she’s also a bit concerned. She’s only been with Nathan for a year – give or take a couple of months – and she doesn’t want him to go running for the hills. Not when she’s almost convinced that he’s forever. That they’re forever.

“I’m sorry,” she begins softly, her eyes filled with an expression he can’t quite discern. He smiles at her, the dimples eliciting a reaction, a slight lowering of her shoulders.

“Don’t be,” he tells her, hand moving across the console to hold hers as they get onto the highway toward Nashville, music idly playing in the background though she can’t discern the artist.

“I told them they didn’t need to worry.”

Rebekah looks at him, her eyes inquisitive as she tilts her head to the side and intertwines her fingers with his.

“You did?” she asks, mainly to confirm but partly because she’s a little bit curious about what he actually said. She doesn’t need to be told that he loves her each day, but this is exactly what she was worried about. And she needs to know what he told them. “What did you say?”

“I did,” he confirms, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. He chuckles at her question and looks over at her before looking back at the road.

“Just the truth. That you’re it. That I’ve never met anyone like you. That I love you, that I want everything with you. That there will never be anyone else for me but you. Simple stuff.” The words are said so nonchalantly that it takes Rebekah a moment to realize just what he’s said and what he means.

A wide grin breaks out on her face and she lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding.

She leans across the console, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling back and resting her head against his shoulder. It is quiet for a moment before Rebekah speaks.

“I can’t see a future without you in it,” she tells him, quietly, almost shyly, admitting something that she has yet to barely admit to herself.

“I could not tell you if I loved you the first moment I saw you, or if it was the second or third or fourth. But I remember the first moment I looked at you walking toward me and realized that somehow the rest of the world seemed to vanish when I was with you.”  

It’s their second year traveling the globe, their first together, and when Rebekah looks at a calendar in some tacky gift shop in Portland, she realizes that Mother’s Day is just under three weeks away. Though she no longer has a mother to send anything to – and hasn’t for nearly a millennia [unless you count the few brief months Esther pretended to love her…which Rebekah most definitely does not] – she knows that Nathan’s mother is still very much alive.

She also knows that while he has made tentative overtures – a Christmas gift here, a birthday card there, and flowers at the passing of his grandparents – he has not completely embraced his family in the way she did in the decade they spent apart. And really, she should be pleased he’s done that much because for so long she was afraid that they would think him lost forever. [And that by the time he realized that, it would be too late to go back, too late to let them know how much he loves them.] Because he does – love them – but it’s complicated. It’s complicated and Nathan still has yet to truly grasp the concept of his immortality and relate it to the mortality so many humans face.

But Rebekah has not pushed the concept of family yet, though she really, really wants to. She went so long without her family and still regrets the arguments that have plagued them. She does not want Nathan to hold regrets, especially since his family is made up of mortals. But what Rebekah does not yet realize is that it’s not her decision to make. She’s always been bad at realizing things like this.

So when Rebekah sees this calendar in the gift shop she will later swear gave her hepatitis [Nathan will laugh at her in the way that reminds her how loved she is], she will remind herself to think on what to do later that evening. It’s lucky it sticks, really, for she is pulled away from her musings at Nathan holding up a t-shirt that proclaims Portland is the city of roses (it’s pink and she refuses to let him buy it) and doubles over in laughter. She’s over a millennium old and he can make her laugh like when she was truly a teenager. Yeah, she thinks this one will stick.

Later that evening, when he gently snores on the bed beside her, Rebekah looks up florists in the Boston area. It’s not difficult – everything can be done on the Internet now – and she chooses a decadent [and expensive] arrangement of lilies and tulips that will be delivered on the day in question. The note is a bit more difficult, but she simply signs it “Love, Nate.” After staring at the screen for a good thirty minutes or so, Rebekah sighs and adds his cell phone number. He’s not going to like it – she’s not stupid enough to think otherwise – but she also knows just how old his parents are. And, in the blonde’s opinion, this has gone on long enough. She wishes she still had parents left to agonize over.

And then the flowers are officially ordered and she crawls into bed with the love of her life, her lips pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder as she falls asleep. The next day starts early and before she knows it, it’s a week later and they’re in Calgary.

In Calgary, Rebekah doesn’t think about the flowers, does not let her mind get lured into a headspace of worry. No, in Calgary, Rebekah drinks some wine, visits museums, dances with Nathan, and falls more in love. She all but forgets Mother’s Day. Until it’s their last night there and Nathan gets a call on his phone just after they’ve arrived back at the hotel. He leaves the room while she opens a bottle of wine and pours the glasses. When he comes back, his face is blank but she can see the anger behind his eyes. And then she remembers.

“My mother says hello and thank you for the flowers that I didn’t send her.” He doesn’t beat around the bush and his eyes darken. “She’s pleased I have such a thoughtful girlfriend.” It is the only time in their entire existence that he will make those words, that have always sounded so sweet coming from his lips, sound like a curse.

“I’m not going to apologize,” she tells him, blue eyes meeting blue. Because no matter how upset he may be with her – and he has every right to be, really – she’s not going to apologize for stopping him from regretting a decision she could stop him from making. Because Rebekah has never been good at admitting when she’s wrong [and right now, she still does not believe she was].

It’s not the right thing to say, in any case.  

“It wasn’t your decision to make,” Nathan replies, his voice rising [and he rarely raises his voice to her, not really].  “You know how I feel about them. You know how difficult it’s been for me to even send them a Christmas card. But I did it for you. And apparently that isn’t even good enough.”

She feels like she has been punched in the stomach, but Rebekah Mikaelson has never backed away from an argument, has never back away from a fight that was not with her brothers.

“And I also know how much you bloody well regret it,” she throws back, her emotions flaring as she looks at him, trying to make him understand with her eyes. “They’re your family.” She doesn’t say they’re your only family but it’s implied all the same.

“No,” he answers her, his voice a heaving sigh. “You are.” And it’s true. She has been his family since that first day she wormed her way into his life, since she convinced him she could be trusted, since she showed him how it felt to be loved and accepted while wanting nothing in return.

It is the best and the worst thing he could say to her, because while she understands the weight in his using the present tense, she also knows that she has never seen him this angry. Not with her. Not ever.

He continues on. “You’ve gotten what you wanted anyway. It’s not as if I’m going to change my phone number at this point.”

There is relief in that thought, in knowing that he has finally allowed the methods of communication to stay open, though she is not naïve. “So you’re going to talk to them now?” she asks, hesitant, knowing that this fight isn’t necessarily over.

“Yes.” Nathan sighs. It’s heavy and it’s rough and Rebekah can practically feel the tension rolling off of his body. She wants to pull him into her arms, wants to make the anger go away. But she can’t. Not this time.

“I’m glad. That was the only thing I intended to…”

He cuts her off. “No, you thought your way was better. You always think your way is better. And I can deal with that most of the time. I can, because I love you. Because you’re it, okay? You’re it and I love you and I know that on many things you have a perspective I haven’t thought about. But this was one thing that I had to deal with. The one thing that was mine to handle. And you couldn’t respect me and my wishes enough to let it go.”

She has nothing to say to that. Because he’s right. Her mouth opens and closes and no words come out. She bites her lower lip, unsure of what to do. And then he speaks again.

“I need time.” They’re the worst words she will ever hear – they will reverberate around her mind for years to come – but she understands all the same. This is one of Bekah’s greatest blessings and curses: she can understand all she likes, but that does not mean she does not feel the hurt coursing through her veins.

Nathan doesn’t pack a bag, doesn’t do much of anything. Just looks at her for a long moment and then picks up his phone and his wallet and walks out of the hotel room. He can’t look back at her because he knows he will crumble and stay.

In three days, he will go back to the hotel, back to Rebekah – to the love of his life – will pull her into his arms and though he will have left her like so many before him [foolishly, she thought he never would], he will be the first to come back. In a few days, he will promise never to leave like that again, will reassure her that he’s in it for the long haul, will realize that while her interference bothers him, his leaving fucked her up more than he had realized. In a few days, he will admit that maybe she was right in what she did. But he’s not there now.

Because right now, he’s angry – angry that she didn’t trust him to make the decision on his own, angry that she didn’t just tell him about the holiday instead of taking it into her own hands the way she takes everything else. He knows, even now, that it was out of love. That’s the thing – she always does things out of love. And while she loves him with everything she has, she’s always been a bit of a control freak. He’s just never realized how much before.

So as the door slams behind him and as the blonde woman’s lips tremble, all Nathan can wonder is why the fuck can’t she trust my decisions?

They find themselves in Dublin on St. Patrick’s Day. They weren’t supposed to be on the Emerald Isle, weren’t supposed to be anywhere near the cold of the season. The original plan had been to be in Asia for this part of the year, both of them ready for a change from living in New Orleans. But there is a problem with the plane and instead of landing in Kyoto, Japan, they land in Shannon, Ireland. When Rebekah looks at her phone and sees the date, she shrugs and suggests that they just stay there until they got bored.

They had forever, after all.

He’s never been one to say no when she has that look in her eye, the one that says she is ready for adventure, that she wants to share this experience with no one else but him. He nods, taking her bag in his other hand while she punches in some numbers on her phone and reserves them a – he knows it will be expensive – suite in Dublin. A few hours in a rental car later has them in the city, her hand intertwined through his. It is almost like it had always been this way.

After arriving at the hotel, Rebekah leaves only to feed, her gaze almost apologetic as she asks if he wants to come. He looks at her with a solid gaze and shakes his head. She bites her lip before leaving, leaving Nathan to his thoughts.

He doesn’t like her fresh feeding, never has, but she has always assured him that she would not kill another human intentionally. She heals and compels everyone she feeds from.

And he trusts her. He trusts her in a way he has never trusted anyone else before.

Nathan will never like this part about her, but he’s learned to accept it. She would not be the same without it.

She’s offered to stop, has offered to do the blood banks with him. Because she loves him more than anything she’s ever known. 

But, surprising himself even then, Nathan had said no.

Because he loves her, in a way he hasn’t loved anyone before. And he doesn’t want her to change for him. 

When she returns, it is with a white smile unmarred with blood. She changes into a dress before suggesting that they go to a pub to celebrate the day. He acquiesces and the walk there is filled with such flirting that he wonders why they bothered leaving the hotel room at all.

She starts with a red wine he can’t pronounce – and idly, jokingly, wonders if he can afford – and he takes a Guinness. It is only when she laughs at a very terrible joke that he looks around the bar. He nudges her before indicating the area to their right. 

Sitting there, seven seats down, drinking at least his third round, is her brother Kol. Alone, it seems, and drowning whatever sorrows he may have. He hasn’t yet seen them and she wonders if he has been following them all this time. 

Rebekah rolls her eyes before silently rising from the barstool. She puts her fingers over Kol’s eyes and says something that makes the vampire smile before he turns and pulls her into a hug. Rebekah’s smile lights up the dreary pub and when she turns and gestures to Nathan, Kol raises a glass. 

He may not love her more than Nathan does, but he will always love her more than any other sibling. 

When Nathan next looks up, Kol is on the other side of Rebekah and there are at least two more drinks in front of each of them.

His girlfriend shrugs sheepishly. “He wanted a drinking contest,” she murmurs into his ear as her hand moves to splay across the muscles of his abdomen. He sighs into her mouth before slightly sucking on her lower lip. When she pulls away, her eyes are full of a promise that he fully plans to take her up on.

She loves him enough that she would choose him over her brothers any day. And he loves her enough to never let her make that choice.

Nathan shakes his head and clinks his glass with Kol’s before downing it and reaching for the next one. Because while it might be a drinking contest to Bekah, he’s fully aware that this is more than that. This is a test and it’s one he fully intends to win.

They are neck and neck for the next few hours as the glasses pile up between them. Idly, he realizes that Rebekah is keeping up with them, though she stays relatively silent as Kol decides it is finally his time to interrogate his sister’s love interest. Of course, he does so in a way that seems as if he’s making a friend and when the bartender announces it’s last call, Kol is stumbling over his feet and Nathan has leaned up against Bekah’s side.

The blonde vampire takes another sip of her final drink before taking both of the men back to the hotel suite with her. They are too far gone to hear her comments that are full of both amusement and disdain. 

The next morning, when Nathan is nursing a hangover, Kol is still passed out on the sofa, and Rebekah is drinking her coffee, she looks over at him with something close to sympathy. “I should have told you,” she murmurs as she shakes her head. Nathan groans and opens his eyes to look at her. Will he always think she looks like an angel?

“The only person who will ever win a Mikaelson drinking competition is me.” She smirks as her hand delves into his hair, lightly rubbing his scalp as his headache dissipates.

For a moment, he wants to throw the pillow at her, wants to crawl back into the darkness until he feels no more pain, wants to tell her that she won’t be a Mikaelson forever, but then he sees the pride on her face, that she had finally bested her brothers at something.

But it’s the next line she says that brings a grin to his face. “Kol texted me before he passed out last night,” she tells him with a quirk of her lips as she indicates her brother, who is still drooling as his arm hangs off the sofa and his phone is nearly across the room. “He says you’re tolerable.” She smirks and presses a kiss to his forehead. “And he wants to travel with us for awhile.”

She presses a kiss to Nathan’s lips at the surprised expression he’s displaying.

“That means he likes you.”

For the next couple of hours, Nathan thinks that’s a good thing. At least one of them does, he reminds himself.

Rebekah Mikaelson sat on the airplane that had just landed in Copenhagen fully aware that her anticipation was heightened. She was ready to be home, ready to see Nathan.

How long had it been since she’d seen his face? Since she’d smelled his cologne, pressed her lips to his, enjoyed the scratch of his stubble on her face. Too long. It had seemed like months, years even, but really the seven weeks she’d been without him wasn’t even so long by her own standards. But today, today, she would get to hold him in her arms, press kisses to every expanse of skin, fall asleep to him. She had been looking forward to this for what felt like ages.

In truth, she’d never wanted to leave. But then Niklaus had almost killed Katerina and Elijah was understandably upset by the entire debacle. It had taken longer than she’d anticipated to ensure that she would not be brotherless by the year’s end. She bit her lip as the plane taxied to the gate, thinking of the joy she was about to experience.

Rebekah couldn’t remember not loving Nathan. In the past, that thought might have scared her. It might have thrilled her. But now, as she sat on the airplane in Copenhagen, she felt little else but happy.  She supposed other women in her position might feel apprehensive, nervous even. But Rebekah had never been like other women and the trust she felt for the man she loved was unparalleled.

As the plane stopped and she stepped off of it, Rebekah stopped only to grab her small bag before walking to the arrivals area, eyes alert for the familiar face.

Really he didn’t feel the separation until about two weeks ago. They’d never been bad with being apart before. He prided himself on being independent, as did she. But for some reason this trip hit him hardest. He figured it was because her smell had gradually begun to disappear. He hadn’t noticed until he opened a bottle of wine or walked by her perfume collection. It jogged his memory of long nights spent talking over a meal, of when they were in bed and he nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent.

Once he noticed that, he missed her everywhere else, and suddenly part of him was gone. For two weeks he felt his eyes drift toward the clock, to the door, to her side of the bed. He knew her family would never make things easy for them, but damn, was he cussing them out now.

It always astounded him to see how far their relationship had come. At first she was just Klaus’ sister, an extension of the family—more so the brother—that gave him both freedom and slavery. Then she became an ally, a friend he could talk to outside of the other hybrids. Then, and ever so slowly, it became…more. The switch was made and it felt as natural as breathing.

And he would never go back.

It dawned on him that people were starting to walk out with their carry-ons, looking tired as ever. He hopped up, trying to stifle the anticipation that had boiled up inside him. The girl had been alive for hundreds of years. He didn’t want her to think she’d adopted a puppy.

Finally, he saw the back of a familiar figure walk out and look around, flowing blond hair shaking as her head turned from side to side. Nathan smiled, creeping up—as best he could, considering their hearing—and put his hands over her eyes. Already his senses were assaulted with what he’d been missing.

Characters: Rebekah, Nathan Setting: 2065; Munich, Germany

Nathan is on his third pint of the day when he sees Rebekah walk his way from the overfilled Weinzelt tent with her third bottle of perfectly chilled Sekt and an empty glass. Hanging off of her other arm is a bag that, he assumes, is filled with whatever food she’s compelled. He doesn’t like it, but he’s long ago realized that some things were worth fighting and this was one of those things he’d chosen to let go – for now, anyway.  

Rebekah smiled, wine set on the table as she turned fully so she could see him. She pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, hair falling around her shoulders before she pulled back to listen to him speak. She bit her lip at his last comment. They were rarely this…outwardly romantic…but just the thought made the blonde’s eye well with unshed tears - of happiness, of course. Rebekah smiled again, tilting her head to the side, as she leaned in to kiss his lips softly. “I’m never going anywhere else,” she murmured against them. “That month in Vienna taught me better.” She grinned. “I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”