#avoiding feelings | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

countrymusiclover · 5 days ago

Text

13 - Rebekah Mikaelson

Part 14

The Hybrids Bright Star

Tags - @melvia-ito @lover-of-books-and-tea @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @elenavampire21 @frost-queen @anonymousmuffinbear

The silence was deafening. Back in Mystic Falls I’d be constantly surrounded by noise – the rustle of leaves in the town square, the murmur of conversations in the Grill, the ever-present soundtrack of drama that followed Elena and her supernatural entourage. But here? In this secluded corner of the Chicago motel, all I heard was the frantic thump-thump of my own heart.

I hunched over my notebook, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the page. My guitar lay untouched in its case, a silent accusation. I was supposed to be writing a new song, something to chase away the lingering darkness. But all that came out were fragments, echoes of a feeling I couldn’t name, couldn’t escape.

“Ghost of a touch, a whisper of fire, Haunts every beat of my heart’s desire. Eyes like the dawn, a smile like the sun, Lost in the shadows, the damage is done.

He built up walls, but underneath he’s as soft as a willow, or even a leaf. I see his pain, I want him to be happy. But who am I kidding, he’ll never date a siphony witch like me.

Shattered mirror, a reflection untold, A love story broken, before it unfolds. He deserves the sun, the moon, and the stars, Instead he gets the woman who doesn’t know who she is.

But I’m just a mess, a tragedy’s child, *Forever exiled, forever reviled. He’s too good for me, too pure, too bright, I will turn him on fire, and bathe him in white.”

God, it was awful. Sentimental garbage, dripping with self-pity. And the worst part? It was all about Klaus. Klaus Mikaelson. The Original Hybrid. The guy who saw something in me, a flicker of light amidst the chaos of my past. The guy I was now actively avoiding.

After seeing the memory of me merging with my sister, Liberty, I could not face him with the fact I was the reason she was dead. Liberty was supposed to be the gifted one, the strong one. Turns out that was me, considering I was the only one left. I was the siphon. I killed my own sister. And then Klaus had to witness it.

He’d been… understanding. Gentle, even. He’d held me while I sobbed, had stroked my hair and whispered words of comfort that I didn’t deserve. But I knew, deep down, that he couldn’t possibly want me after seeing that. I was damaged goods, a broken soul. He was Klaus Mikaelson – powerful, charismatic, immortal. He deserved someone whole, someone strong. Not a messed-up country singer with a penchant for accidental homicide.

So I’d retreated. I’d buried myself in songwriting, hoping to exorcise the demons of my past. But every melody, every lyric, seemed to lead back to him. To his captivating eyes, his sardonic smile, the way his presence made my skin hum with a strange, unfamiliar energy.

A knock at the door startled me. My heart leaped into my throat. Please, don’t let it be him.

“Hallie? Are you decent?” It was Klaus’ voice, laced with that familiar hint of amusement.

I groaned internally. “Give me a minute!” I scrambled to shove my notebook under the pillow, then splashed some water on my face, hoping to erase the evidence of my misery. I took a deep breath, plastered on a fake smile. “Come in!”

He entered the room, filling it with his commanding presence. He was dressed impeccably, as always, in a tailored jacket and dark jeans. His eyes, those mesmerizing pools of blue, scanned the room, lingering on me for a moment before flicking away.

“We’re leaving,” he announced, his voice clipped. “We have business to attend to in Chicago.”

“Chicago?” I echoed, my stomach twisting with anxiety. “What kind of business?”

“Family business,” he replied, his lips curling into a wry smile. “Let’s just say there’s been a slight… development.”

“Do I have to come?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He raised an eyebrow. “I would prefer it. I value your… insight.”

Insight? Or did he just want me around as a distraction? A reminder of the humanity he was so desperately trying to cling to? Whatever his reasons, I knew I couldn’t refuse. Not without revealing the depth of my turmoil.

“Okay,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just let me grab my bag.”

The storage facility was a grim, cavernous space, filled with rows upon rows of identical metal units. The air was thick with dust and the faint scent of decay. It felt like a place where secrets went to die.

Klaus led me through the maze of corridors, his footsteps echoing in the silence. I trailed behind him, my senses on high alert. This place felt wrong, dangerous.

He stopped in front of a unit, pulled out a key, and unlocked the padlock. The door creaked open, revealing a scene that made my blood run cold.

Coffins. Several of them, lined up in neat rows. Each one intricately carved, adorned with silver and strange, arcane symbols.

“What is this place?” I whispered, my voice trembling.

“My family’s sanctuary,” Klaus replied, his voice devoid of emotion. “Or, at least, it used to be.”

He stepped inside, beckoning me to follow. Hesitantly, I obeyed. As I entered, I saw that one of the coffins was open, empty. And a dead body lay slumped against the wall, a look of terror frozen on his face.

“Rebekah…” Klaus called out, his voice sharp. “It’s your big brother. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Suddenly, a woman with bright blonde hair wearing a white sparkly dress that was decades old appeared, a blur of motion. She vamp-sped across the room and plunged a silver dagger into Klaus’ chest.

“Go to hell, Nik!” she hissed, her eyes blazing with fury.

I gasped, recoiling in horror. Klaus staggered back, clutching the dagger. For a moment, he looked genuinely vulnerable.

She turned her attention to me, her gaze hardening. I could feel the hunger radiating off her, the primal instinct to kill.

“And who is this little morsel?” she snarled, advancing towards me. “Another one of Niklaus’ playthings?”

Before I could react, Klaus grabbed Rebekah, shoving her away from me.

“Leave her alone, Rebekah!” he roared, his eyes flashing with anger. “She has nothing to do with this.”

Rebekah struggled against his grip, but Klaus was too strong. He yanked the dagger from his chest and threw it to the ground.

“Don’t pout,” he said, his voice regaining its usual sardonic tone. “You knew it wouldn’t kill me.”

“Yeah, but I was hoping it would hurt more,” Rebekah retorted, glaring at him.

“I understand that you’re upset with me, Rebekah,” Klaus said, his voice softening slightly. “So, I’m going to let that go. Just this once. Brought you a little peace offering. You can come in.”

He gestured towards the doorway, and Stefan Salvatore appeared.

Rebekah’s eyes widened in surprise. “Stefan…”

Klaus stepped closer to Stefan, his hand outstretched. He compelled him, his voice hypnotic. “Now you remember,”

Stefan’s eyes flickered, his expression changing from confusion to recognition. “I remember you. We were friends.”

“We are friends,” Klaus affirmed, turning to Rebekah. “And now, the reason you’re here. Gloria tells me you know how to contact the Original Witch.”

“The Original Witch?” Rebekah echoed, her brow furrowing.

“What do you have that Gloria needs?” Klaus pressed.

Rebekah’s hand flew to her neck, her fingers searching for something that wasn’t there. “Where’s my necklace? What did you do with it? I never take it off!”

“I don’t know. I didn’t touch it,” Klaus said, his voice laced with impatience.

“We need to find it, Nik,” Rebekah insisted, her voice rising in panic. “Now, I want it back!”

“Tell me that’s not what she needs, Rebekah!” Klaus demanded, his patience wearing thin.

Rebekah ignored him, frantically searching through the coffin, tossing pillows and blankets to the floor. The necklace was gone.

Later that day, we found ourselves in a high-end clothing store, surrounded by racks of designer dresses and the irritatingly upbeat sounds of pop music. The champagne helped numb the edge, though it couldn’t quite drown out the persistent voice in my head telling me I was a freak, a danger to everyone around me. I picked at the label on my glass of champagne, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone.

Rebekah was in the fitting room, trying on clothes. Klaus, Stefan, and I were waiting outside, sipping champagne and trying to look like we belonged in this ridiculously opulent environment. “There has to be more to this dress,” Rebekah said from inside the fitting room.

“There’s not,” Klaus called back, his voice bored.

Rebekah emerged from the fitting room, wearing a short, black dress that barely covered her thighs.

“So women in the 21st century dress like prostitutes, then,” she said, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “You know, I got dirty looks for wearing trousers.”

I accidentally snorted out a laugh. “Sorry, I thought you were joking.”

“You wore trousers so women today could wear nothing,” Klaus quipped, earning a glare from his sister.

“And what is this music? It sounds like a cable car accident,” Rebekah complained.

“It’s dance music,” Stefan offered.

“People dance to this?” Rebekah asked, incredulous.

“Hmm,” Stefan replied, noncommittally.

Klaus sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Are we done?”

“And why are you so grumpy?” Rebekah asked, turning to him.

I knew why he was grumpy. I was grumpy too. The tension between us was palpable, a thick, suffocating cloud that hung in the air.

“Okay, look. When he took me out to go country two-stepping I could tell something was going on between us. But the other day we saw my memories of me killing my twin sister in our crazy family's coven ritual. Which makes me a horrible country singer, siphon witch, and person in general. He doesn't deserve to be with someone as broken as me!” I stopped, horrified at my outburst.

Rebekah’s eyes widened, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. She tilted her head, studying Klaus and then me. I could practically hear her thoughts: Oh, so that's how it is.

I could tell she sensed the unspoken chemistry between Klaus and me, the magnetic pull that I was so desperately trying to resist. She was practically vibrating with excitement.

Klaus, on the other hand, just looked… confused. Maybe even a little hurt.

“She's still processing everything, Bekah.” Her brother responded after a few minutes of silence.

Rebekah's eyebrows shot up. "Processing? What's there to process? You two practically radiate hormones. I've seen more subtle flirting at a funeral."

The blood drained from my face. "That's not..." I stammered, but Rebekah wasn't finished.

"Oh, don't play coy with me. I can practically smell the lust. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Honestly, Nik, you're usually better at this."

“I needed one thing from you, Rebekah,” Klaus said, his voice changed to tight with controlled anger, “for my witch to find out why my hybrids are dying. One thing. Your necklace. And you lost it.”

“I didn’t lose it,” Rebekah retorted. “It’s just been missing for 90 years.” She turned to Stefan, her eyes pleading.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, twirling in the dress.

“I like it,” Stefan said, his voice flat.

Rebekah’s face fell. “I can always tell when you’re lying, Stefan.”

She stormed back into the fitting room, dragging me by the forearm despite the fact I tried arguing back. Klaus watched us go, his expression a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“Nice one, good work,” Klaus said to Stefan, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re the one that pulled the dagger out of her,” Stefan countered.

“I heard that!” Rebekah yelled from inside the fitting room.

I protested against Rebekah’s relentless attempts to make me try on clothes, but she brushed me aside, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Don’t be ridiculous, Hallie,” she said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “I can sense your desire to jump my brother’s bones from across the room.”

My face flushed crimson. I knew Klaus and Stefan could hear everything.

“I’m a virg–” I started to say, but stopped myself before I could finish the sentence.

“Oh,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “Well, in that case, you definitely need something special.”

Dropping my arms down at my sides I leaned my back against the mirror of the dressing room, still doing my best to lie. “There’s nothing going on between me and Klaus," I insisted, even though my heart pounded in my chest at the thought.

“You don’t have to get anything today,” Rebekah continued, her voice losing its edge. “But I’ll definitely help you shop whenever you do go on a date with my brother.”

The image of Klaus and I, on a date, flashed through my mind. A real date, not just a random night out. A date where we could be ourselves, without the weight of the supernatural world pressing down on us.

But it was a fantasy, a foolish dream. Klaus Mikaelson would never date someone like me. And even if he did, I knew I would only end up hurting him.

I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “Thanks, Rebekah,” I said, my voice barely audible. “But I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

Rebekah didn’t reply. She simply looked at me, her eyes filled with a strange mixture of pity and understanding.