The witch was standing still, eyes wide open and heart beating fast against her ribcage. There was a mess on the floor, books and pieces of furniture torn apart, a fire started on the carpet but was quickly snuffed by the witch. Glass from a mirror was shattered and paintings were lying on the floor. She was bleeding from the cuts on her hands and her face because of the glass. It didn't matter to her. She could barely hear her own heartbeats and she could barely see anything because of her blurred vision. They argued they fought... and all that was left was a messed-up room and a witch standing in the middle of it, stunned... shocked....scared.
She wasn't sure about something Klaus said, but maybe he mentioned leaving her. He mentioned that her companionship was dreadful and he couldn't have it anymore. Was he sincere? Was he just fucking with her? She didn't know, she wasn't sure anymore. All she could say was that they argued, they were mean to each other, he lashed out and she did too. Her anger took the best of her and now he was gone and Nëela wasn't sure about where he went. He made it clear that he didn't want to see her and she couldn't feel him in the house anymore. It was the first time he actually chose to leave her after an argument and the witch didn't know what to do. All she could think about was how painful that was, to be left, to be reviled...Her feelings for Klaus were true and intense at that point. She accepted the fact she was in love with him and she didn't want to be alone ever again.
Yet she was.
He left.
Her heart was beating so hard against her ribcage that it was starting to hurt. She could feel her heartbreak by the second as she realized that Klaus had rejected her. It was her fault, no matter what he said that set her off, it was her fault. She couldn't take that thought off of her mind as she looked around her and saw the destruction she caused. The house was her and she was the house, broken, alone, helpless. It would have been difficult for the witch, to actually form a coherent thought. Her soul was scattered in each fragment of furniture and glass and paper on the floor. She screamed, her first actual reaction before Nëela just fell to the floor. She gathered some strength to sit on her heels but as soon as she did, the witch wailed her heart out. Her curse was definitely unbreakable. Klaus seemed to be out of the curse's reach but it just took longer to get there. She heard the voices of the dead witches in her head, mocking her, tearing her confidence apart as they pointed out how even the worst of them all "Niklaus Mikaelson" couldn't even stand her. That made her scream again and cry until they dried. There was nothing left... nothing... No one.
-TBC-
No comments:
Post a Comment