She was used to being afraid. The voices in her head, voices of the dead witches used in the ritual to curse her, always spoke to Nëela. They reminded her that she couldn't possibly be loved, that she was an abomination and would suffer for all eternity. She became used to the whispers, comfortable even in her own little personal hell. What could they say that the witch had not said to herself or heard? What new fear could they unlock when all of her fears had already been realized? Nothing. They could do nothing.
She was used to being hurt. It took a while for the witch to accept the effect of her curse on her. It was clear cut, no human, or supernatural creature could ever accept her as one of their own from the moment they discover her true identity. And it was true. Every time the witch was discovered by a human or a supernatural creature, they all reacted the same. They all first rejected her, then tried to kill her and when it failed, they would push her out of their town. Elijah was the first exception... Elijah was the reason for her curse but he also was the only one who welcomed her for what she was. Klaus then proved that he was immune to her curse, perhaps it was part of it, perhaps he was just unaffected by it... Either way, he welcomed her as she was.
She was used to being feared. She believed that she had outgrown her personal hell. She believed that she was so comfortable in it that nothing and no one could surprise her. She believed a lot of things, perhaps to ignore that falling in love unlocked new fears. She was afraid to lose him, to have her heart broken... To be abandoned! And she could feel the familiar fire she used to play with, slowly start to burn her skin again.
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