#niklaus edit

Word count: 885

Rating: T

Klaus’ love part 3 “How can you love him knowing what he’s done? He’s a monster that survives on blood and he thrives on pain and war. You are loving a monster.” The dark eyes of Marcel pierced hers. Though that didn’t put her off her mission of the moment. To defend the man she loved.

“Maybe that’s why I need to love him. Tell me Marcel have you ever thought the reason why he’s been such a ‘monster’ as you so eloquently put it, is because he just wanted to be loved? To be cared for, to be in the mind of someone other than himself? He’s been alone for a thousand years with a family he didn’t think cared for him. So he was lonely and angry, and I understand because I would be the same way.”

Stomping away from the fuming Marcel. She walked back to the house and went straight to the study room. There she found Rebekah snooping through the alcohol stores. Sitting down on a chaise she pouted, lips pursed and nose scrunched in anger. Noticing her distress Rebekah sat down next to her, taking a long drink from the glass in her hand she gathered the courage to speak to the very feisty human.

“What is it?”

“Your beau, he acts as if Nik will forever be a monster.”

“Well, his past hasn’t been very… clean.” Rebekah stated as if it would solve the entire conversation.

“And? If he wants to be a monster then so be it, notice the only monstrous bout of things your brother has done, not only protected you but also your family.” Her eyes got wide and a steady thrum sounded behind her eyes.

“Bex, I know he’s never been perfect or hell good. But he’s trying now, trying to repair things, can’t you see god he won’t even drink from the bloody vein anymore. People need to start pulling their heads from their asses.” Standing up dead set on finding her boyfriend she left Rebekah with a quote by Oscar Wilde.

“Remember Rebekah, “Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future.’ Though in this case, it’s not a good future others would give him.”

Walking to the painting room she passed the large foyer where Elijah stood at the top. There was a small smile gracing his lips. Who knew a human could understand his brother more than his own family did. This girl understood, but most of all he kept him in love.

Walking into the room where she found Klaus his eyes sunken in and his hand close to shaking as he tried to paint.

“Nik,” He paid no attention, he didn’t seem to hear her.

“Niklaus, look at me.” When he didn’t turn towards her she in all of her human glory stomped across the room to remove the brush from his hands. Placing it in the cup of water, gently she reached to cradle his face in her hands.

“Niklaus Mikaelson, you’ve got to stop this. Starving yourself is not good, trust me I would know.”

With those words, his eyes moved to hers and finally his now dull grey eyes met hers. Most of the time the striking blue of his eyes commanded the entire room. But him sitting there his pupils blown so wide that there was just a dull grey ring around them, it made him hollow. There seemed to be no soul. But that didn’t scare her, the fact that he was a monster didn’t scare her, because she’s met monsters and Klaus doesn’t have the devilish fire in his eyes. And if he did, what’s it to her? She’s had it as well, that fire that terrifies those who stare upon it. She’d never be able to be afraid of Klaus, not unless that fire was on her.

She moved her hands to the back of his neck and with a deep sigh, made her mind up.

“Drink from me.” The slight glint in his eyes made her smile.

“Come on, you refuse to feed anywhere else, and you need live blood, blood bags aren’t enough for you to live on by itself. You’re not just a vampire Nik, you’re a wolf, you get satisfaction from a hunt. So hunt me.”

With a quirk of her eyebrow and with a turn she ran away from him, knowing she wouldn’t get far she ran fast not at all pacing herself. And before she was across the yard Klaus had her tight in his arms.

“You are very slow love.” And before a snarky comment could pass her lips his fangs were embedded into the soft flesh of her neck. He wasn’t rough at all in fact if she really pushed she could get him off of her with little to no resistance. His fangs felt like kisses on her neck with a slight pinch and despite her best efforts to stay quiet, a light moan passed her lips. Soon after the bite began it was over. A groan of protest passed her lips and the two of them let huffs of laughter.

“That was a new adventure.” Wiping her blood from his lips he kissed her neck.

Word Count: 935

Rating: T

Klaus’s love pt 2

“Klaus?” She murmured from her place on the sofa. The man in question stood there behind his easel looking completely at ease with himself. This was the only time anyone could ever see him truly at peace with what he was doing. The way the brush draped against the canvas was nothing short of pristine, and with so much practice his movements were melodic. She loved to watch him paint. And he promised to paint her for all eternity.

So there she lay lounging on the sofa smiling at the way something so simple could make him so happy. She was aghast at how human he could be. This immortal man could seem so mortal at times that she could not believe it. She has watched him tear men's hearts out without flinching. She has watched him torture for information. She has heard the stories of the immortal man. But she knew things about him. Things that no one else knew.

No one else knew how he hated coffee without cream. No one else knew that he could not possibly sleep without socks on. And no one else knew how many nightmares this man had. When she had first moved in with him she noticed how he would never sleep with her there. She would always find him napping around. She could see the dark moons under his bloodshot eyes and she stayed quiet until she found him standing in front of an easel ready to pass out.

“What’s going on Klaus?” Silence and a blank stare answered her.

“If you don’t want me here then I can leave. I can move into an apartment. But don’t hurt yourself because of me.” She practically begged him to tell her what was wrong.

“Is it me?” She asked him. This time she got an answer.

“No, it’s me.”

“Well that’s original, tell me, Klaus.”

“I CAN’T.” He snapped throwing the paintbrush at the wall and he scraped his nails along his forehead and through his scalp. He left red angry lines along his head and she stood there.

“Don’t yell at me. I just want to help.” She spoke quietly and calmly.

By this time the rest of the Mikaelson family stood at the door ready to fight their brother for this girl that had weaseled her way into all of their hearts. Though none of them would verbally admit it.

She approached him as she would anyone else. She did not act as if he were a wounded animal. No, she approached like she was a giant, and him a mere boy. She gripped his face in her hands and she cradled it. Leaning into her touch Klaus allowed his eyes to fall and his eyelids to flutter shut.

From there he told her.

“I have nightmares. I hate sleeping. But now I’m scared to sleep. Not only because of the images I see but because I have been known to be violent when woken.”

“You would never hurt me. Never on purpose. And I know this, you love me and I love you. Now let us sleep.”

“Klaus?” She murmured again, he never heard her when she had originally spoken. He looked up to smile at her. It was soft and loving as he gazed at her form.

“Yes, love?”

“Why do you love your art so much?” He laughed lightly, he tried to find a way to explain in a way she would understand.

“Well, art for me is very similar to the way books are for you.” He nodded to the book in her hand. She had been reading while he painted her. The book, a perfect prop for her to look truly at peace as he painted her.

“It is a way I can survive this eternity.” He sighed as the brush glided over the painting in a melodic gesture. He looked at her again, she seemed to somewhat understand what he spoke, but it wasn’t fully translated into her mind.

“Art is a way to express my life’s story. One day I can look back and see the first piece I did and from there I can every bit of anger, happiness, and-and love.” She let a breathless laugh fall past her lips.

“Did the great Niklaus Mikaelson just express an emotion other than brooding?” He scoffed.

“I don’t brood. I am just silently angry at people.”

“That. Is brooding darling.” Quirking his head to the side Klaus gazed at her, drinking in her presence he just let her ramble lightly about the quirks he has.

“There that’s it. That smile.” The same smile she was talking about dropped from his face and into a fake glare.

“How much longer? We’ve been working on this oil for weeks. I’ve gone through nearly all of these books.” She pointed to the stack of books she was supposed to be posing with and not just reading.

“Nearly done love.”

She purred at the name. Love. The way it was spoken was nearly reverent when he spoke it to her. But when he called other girls or people it, she would hear a mocking tone and a sly face. But this. This was genuine. This was her Klaus. The man she loved.

“We need food soon, and when was the last you drank?”

Shrugging Klaus ignored her question. Knowing exactly what she was talking about. He drank less from the vein nowadays. He felt like he was somehow betraying her when hunting other humans.