Klasma: Let your pain out.
"I see you fancied a bath. I thought you wanted a quick shower, love."
"I decided against it because I need more time to think something over." She sighed and ran her hand through her wet locks. Her golden eyes stared at the hybrid that was standing at the bathroom door. "Care to join me?" -She added with a wiggle of her brows-
"I would, but I have already showered this morning," he teased her. She pouted a little and shrugged her shoulders. "But I can keep you company if you want me to."
"I would love that. Maybe you could help me sort some things out." -He lifted a brow and walked into the bathroom. He leaned against the sink and crossed his arms above his chest-
He noticed her sudden change of behaviour. Nëela had been more distracted than usual. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but she was caught up in her feelings and was more guarded than usual. He was glad that she didn't resist him and admitted the truth about how she felt. This way, they could have the conversation that should have happened earlier. Klaus braced himself for what she was going to say. He set his blue eyes on her frame, watched as she moved around her bath to be able to lean her arms on the bathtub and rest her chin on top of the back of her hands.
"I don't know why it came to my mind, but I thought about the times I have been discovered as a witch."
"How did you react when that happened?" -She shrugged and pinched her lips together-
"Usually... I would have to fight them and I would have to kill them."
"Usually? When was that not the case?"
Klaus could understand why she would have to kill those who discovered her true identity. Humans didn't take too kindly to the truth about supernatural creatures. Their reaction would always be to try to destroy what they feared. He experienced it himself, the sight of pure horror from humans who learned he was a hybrid. Their superstitious fears and misunderstanding of the supernatural world always led to death and destruction. However, what surprised him was that there were instances of her sparing the lives of those who knew her true nature. He cocked his head to the side so he could have a good look at her.
"Once, I was discovered by a 5-year-old boy. I'm not a child-killer, so I cast a spell on him to make him forget what he had just seen. "
Understandable. While Klaus didn't distinguish between friends, foes, and innocent people when he was going on a rampage, he still wouldn't attack children when he was fully conscious of what he was doing. He assumed that his witch would feel the same, perhaps even better than he, since he couldn't fathom the idea that she might have gone on rampages herself. That was part of her that Nëela kept buried deep inside her. She refused to remember what happened when she went on a rampage. She refused to even acknowledge that she went on rampages. It was bound to happen after spending centuries on her own; the witch ought to lose her mind at least once. It lasted a while, enough for her to leave a trail of bodies behind her. Enough for her to become a boogyman, enough for her... to scar the country. She knew, deep down, that during that time, innocent people, including children, fell prey to her attacks.
"Understandable. Merciful even." -he paused for a second- "And what was the other time you didn't kill the witness?"
"A 1500-year-old werewolf. He only goes by Julius, so I can only refer to him as Julius." She bit her bottom lip and looked up at Klaus' face- "We were in the sixties, and I needed a place to stay. I needed stability, but I was very wary of the people who wanted to get close to me. I had a shop at the time, a bakery, because I didn't want to raise suspicion about being a witch. He walked into my shop and he told me point-blank that he knew I was a witch. He could smell it on me. That was how I knew he was also a supernatural creature. He... convinced me to join his pack, not as a werewolf, but as myself. He sold me a dream. A dream of a community, of a place I could call home, and he didn't seem to be affected by my curse. I believed him. I believed his lies, and ultimately, I realized that it was all a lie."
"Did you and that Julius...."
"Have a relationship? No. It was never about it, at least not for me. I wanted a family, and I thought I had found one with him and his pack. I was mesmerized by that older being who experienced life as I had never known it. They all seemed to welcome me, and I really wanted to believe it. It worked for years until one day, I walked into a conversation I shouldn't have heard. He was talking to his right-hand man about me, and I heard the bitter truth. He didn't care about me. He cared about my power. He wanted to use me. He wanted me to fight his wars for him. He saw me as a weapon and not a person, and I think the worst of it all was that I heard how much I disgusted him. He despised me. I was wretched, a witch, and everyone followed his orders. They all wanted me dead, but I was so useful to them that they agreed to pretend they cared for me."
Klaus could smell it, the distinctive saline scent of unshed tears. It hit his nostrils like a truck, and he realized that the witch was about to cry. It hurt her something fierce, and her voice betrayed her emotions. he could see that she genuinely believed that Julius guy was a friend and that she had found her family, but it was all an act to lure her into doing their bidding. She was nothing but a pawn, much like Elijah thought of her. He moved from the sink and knelt before the bathtub, so they could see eye to eye. The witch's lips trembled, and she ended up crying. He hated the sight of her tears. He hated the wet sound that came out of her lips. He hated to see her pain. So the hybrid cupped her cheeks with both hands and stroked her soft skin with his thumbs. She was still crying and bit back her sobs, but he softly shushed her.
"Come on. Let it go."
"I don't want to.... I don't wa---" -She sobbed and he stroked her cheek more tenderly - "Klaus....."- She begged, scared of being unable to stop herself if she gave in to her tears.-
He had rarely seen her cry, but he knew that she needed to let go. He usually wouldn't have cared for tears, and in the past, he didn't care about hers. These days things were different. Klaus cared for the witch, and he wanted to help her. He knew that because of her curse, if she let herself completely feel it, she would be in excruciating pain. He understood her reluctance to dive into those emotions and feel the full extent of them, but it was necessary. She had to cry. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips and then wrapped his powerful arms around her shoulders. He would keep her in that tight embrace for as long as she wanted, regardless of how wet he ended up being. Regardless of what he would witness. She would suffer, but he would be there the whole time. That hug managed to help the witch feel safe because Klaus created a safe place for her -in the warmth of his arms and embrace-. With trembling lips, she whispered, "Please don't let go of me..." -To which he replied - "I don't intend to." Reassured about his presence in this room, Nëela finally allowed herself to give in to her pain.
The sight was unsettling, to say the least. She cried an ugly cry with snot and all, held onto his shirt as hard as she could, and painfully said his name as pain was overwhelming her. He could feel the spasm of her body as it was shaking uncontrollably. He could feel the muscles tense, her fingers clench and unclench, and her heart race against her ribcage. He could feel the distress her body was in, far worse than what he had witnessed before. She wailed and groaned. She apologized to him for what he was witnessing. For her snot, for her blood, that came out of her nose, for her tears, and the spasms she couldn't control. It was so much... too much for her to handle, and while he tried to comfort her the best he could, he realized now the scope of her curse. He realized the pain she tried to drown with acts of service, alcohol, or even sex. He realized that she was trying to save face most of the time and that she was desperate for contact, for something good to balance out the bad. He held onto her, never thinking twice about releasing his hold on her shaking frame, not even after she passed out because of the pain. He simply cradled her head and planted kisses on her forehead until her shaking subsided and ended. Then, he moved her out of the bath, grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around her frame before he grabbed another towel to dry most of her body. He took her to bed and sat on it, placed her body against his frame, and held onto her until she woke up. He didn't want to let go, and he wouldn't let go, not now, not ever.
-TBC-