WHO: Rebekah and Klaus Mikaelson WHAT: Siblings.... bonding? Arguing? Doing that indefinable Mikaelson thing! WHEN: About lunchtime today. WHERE: Their house. RATING: TBD STATUS: In progress [cut lyrics: False Pretense by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus]
Working in a bar meant Rebekah often didn't come home until the early hours of the morning, sometimes not even until the first rays of sunlight were starting to peek through for the day ahead. And despite the speed she could easily use, she walked back at a normal pace, enjoying the tranquility of that quiet time. Whatever other dramas that might have been going on didn't bother her, confident as she was with the strength and skill that came with being a thousand years old, an unkillable Original vampire. Nothing could touch her. Nothing could hurt her.
Well, okay, that was a lie. One thing could, hurt her right in the heart even without a dagger being involved. That brother of hers. Half brother, if you wanted to get technical about it, but Rebekah had never cared about that. She had stayed by his side, rejecting her father for him, staying with him when Kol, even Elijah had moved on to other things. Loved him no matter what. Even after he had stabbed her, carried her around in a coffin like a piece of furniture. She loved Nik, desperately and utterly, as much as she could violently hate him as well, like when his words, cruel and deliberate, could cut through her. No one could ever make her cry the way he could.
She knew he would never take the deal she had offered him. Never put her before his beloved hybrids, or his obsession with the doppelgangers, or the Forbes girl for that matter. Never choose her. That was all she wanted, for him to choose her. So she couldn't even muster being disappointed when she did wake up after a few hours of sleep and see him heading out. To meet with Sherlock, to discuss blood. For science. For hybrids. It hadn't exactly been difficult to figure out, you didn't stay with someone for so many centuries and not figure it out.
"Going somewhere?" Her tone was more resigned than anything else, as she leaned against the kitchen doorframe, mug of coffee in her hand, watching him move in the hallway. The phone in his hand, the one he had been fidgeting with, that was another give away. To contact or not to contact Caroline. Rebekah wasn't even sure if she was relieved he hadn't, or a little sad that he hadn't reached out, again. "I suppose offering company would be pointless."