#witch3d

she isn't sure entirely what she's here for, only that it seemed natural to stop by paris on her travels. on her way to avoid anywhere but home, even if it's all she thinks of. by nightfall, she's finally ready to become a tourist, winding her way through streets that come recommended on the travel guides they hand out at the airport bookstores. she stops at a restaurant, stuffed to the brim mostly with tourists. most of the women there are wearing long skirts or dresses and these thin barely there cardigans thrown over their shoulders. a woman in particular catches her eye, sitting by herself with a contented smile on her face, cheeks warmed by the wine in her hand. erica, with her jeans and her leather jacket, takes a seat at the table beside hers.

’ Miss Bennett, with respect— ‘

of which there is congruently. They are, after all, meeting in a dream of her choosing. She has a heartbeat still; she has sweat and pine not quite indigenous to Mystic Falls.

She would even have him believe he’s freshly lunched. The deposit of the memory is plastic. Outside of it, life happens.

Slowly. Maddeningly.

It is exactly like lying in a coffin.

With a hand in the pocket, he brings her along to eye the steam contours of the illusion. They slash light like cobwebs in the sun, ashiver with the air they’re not breathing.

Many years before she was born, he’d ripped out of prisons not unlike it, flesh-red and dripping with whatever amateur was to be found on the other side.

He’s nothing if not a good guest. Manners would have it that she minded her step.

If not, she may trip over Niklaus’ beautiful worry, a thing that mustn’t be, a wrinkle of what if; Elijah continues freely to suffer what they call an epiphany squarely under his spell.

And suffering it he is.

’ —when you’ve lived as long as we have, it allows for an... ‘ he stills to stone in his search, as if bored by trying, ’ unburdening. ‘

Bonnie’s ancient blood lacks the wolfgore musk of Hayley’s or the unstirring of his own. Even with it she’s racing against herself, wanting after the mastery of bodies upon bodies of ancestral scholarship: if Niklaus gets too close too soon, she won’t retain either channel to her magic.

And what good is a witch without her hands?

ㅤㅤhe simply stares at her for a few moments, mouth agape with wonder. he lets out a sigh of relief that melts into a laugh, bending over to rest his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. ❛❛ i never thought that in the first place, ❜❜ he assures, straightening back up to his full height. ❛❛ but even if i had at some point, i definitely don't now. ❜❜ he approaches, planes of his face brightened by the smile currently digging dimples into his cheeks. ❛❛ that was incredible, bonnie. you really saved my ass just now. ❜❜

― 𝑺𝑰𝑿 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.