#800!!!

"Excuse us for a moment, my friends. It appears the future ball and chain is calling!" Her face heats up as she grabs him by the wrist and pulls him through the crowd while the people around snicker and chuckle. Klaus takes a sip from his own glass, eyebrow raising in a smirk as she tows his older brother away. Damn him, she curses to herself.

"What is wrong with you?" She hisses, pulling him away from the crowd and into the room she knows to be the library. Elijah stumbles next to her as she pulls him by the wrist, he's confused and definitely not sober.

Elijah laughs as she closes the door behind them and he leans against a bookshelf as chuckles humourlessly. "I'm just making friends!" He exclaims. "By telling them how not excited I am to be married to someone like you." He lifts himself from the bookshelf and sneers at her. She rolls her eyes in his direction.

"Yes, because I'm definitely the worst option out there." She snaps back. "We need to get you cleaned up; this isn't very proper." She murmurs, striding toward him. She swiftly pulls the handkerchief from his lapel pocket, dabbing the sweat on his face and straightening his hair. His eyes widen as he looks on in horror before he grabs the handkerchief from her hand roughly. She steps back exasperatedly. "Seriously? Don't be a child. Let me help," She offers.

He scoffs and glares at her, moving the handkerchief on his own as he walks to the wall behind his desk where a small mirror is hung. "I don't need your help." He's swaying now, drunk and hiccuping as he starts pacing in an effort to sober up the tiniest bit. Something in her heart comes alive as she watches him and she quashes it, turning her rising spark of hope into a licking flame of anger. It is quick to build and explode, forcing its way up her throat in harsh words.

“God, you drive me so fucking crazy!” Y/N yells as Elijah paces about the library. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as he let on, his demeanor changes quickly as the conversation escalates. He’s rigid now, no longer sloppy and lazy like before.

“I drive you crazy? Have you heard yourself talk?” He snaps. His eyes are wild and his hair is disheveled as he runs his hands through it, the brown strands like waves through his fingers. His suit is ruffled and her dress matches, the wrinkles from gripping it were starting to deepen. She eyes his messy hair and suit, her mind wandering from the situation at hand.

She shakes her head. “We need to get our shit together, okay?” She sighs as she looks at the business magnate, the young, handsome bachelor, her fiancée, and she hates him. She hates him more than she thought she would ever be able to hate someone. But the tugging sensation in the pit of her stomach doesn't seem to disappear, it only gets worse as she glares at him. She swallows roughly. "Let's pull this together. We need to fake this for one more month. Can you do that?" She asks.

His response is a cold laugh, spit out of his mouth like it burned. "I don't know if I can handle you." His hand drops from his head as he pivots to look at her. He shrugs and his mouth is agape, as if he's thinking of something to say. "I don't think I can handle you." He says quietly. His eyes fall from hers and this feels final, feels hard and broken. She's got tears in her eyes now, angry tears, but she will not let herself be hurt. She is determined to show him how much he doesn't affect her.