fragmcntedsouls

[fragmcntedsouls]

“I’m—” Billie's urge to reassure had become caught in the back of her throat, her expression one of complete vulnerability as she found his gaze, holding onto her very own life force with both hands. As encouraged, she followed the gentle guidance of his voice; allowing for him to bring her home, as she held onto him tighter. “I’m right here with you, I promise.” Her assurance was made with as much strength as she could muster, as she repeated in a barely audible whisper, “I promise.” 

Billie needed to hear the truth, as brutal as it might be; or feel to repeat, she had to hear it; to feel the cruel sting of rejection, otherwise she would just keep letting people take from her. Without even realising it she would let them bleed her dry until she was nothing but ash. 

“You always have” she promised and the words were spoken upon an exhale, but her gaze had since dropped, finding herself unable to meet his eyes. She feared that if she did, every ounce of suppressed emotion would come flooding out. More than anything she wanted to believe him, she had never wanted anything more than to hear those words and to accept them, but she just couldn’t. Her hand lifted to rest against his cheek, her gaze eventually lifting to find his as her eyes carefully studied each feature. “I just feel—” exhausted, belittled, humiliated, manipulated, deceived, “numb.” She wasn’t enough for them– or maybe she was just too much. That was the part that she hadn’t ever figured out, might not ever figure out. “They’re gone. That’s it, I can’t change it” her voice trembled, recovering by drawing in a breath, “it doesn’t matter. They made their choices, why should we suffer because of that?” Placing both palms flat against his chest now, she ran then down his torso, before settling against his ribs “a long and really weird experience that you can tell me all about it in our room” she murmured softly, encouraging for a smile to ghost upon her lips. Swallowing the discomfort in the back of her throat, she nodded “I am. You don’t have to worry, I am okay.” 

Knowing that she needed his embrace, she relaxed into his touch as he pulled her closer, hugging herself against his chest, appreciative of the truth behind his every word. “I don’t want it to matter, because if I let it matter, I don’t think I can come back from that. Not again. I was stupid to want this. My entire life, i've been chasing ghosts, chasing after something that just doesn't exist. I have Zera and I have you and that is all I need. I don’t need anything else, I don't need their false promises, or incapability of loving anything other than themselves. I don't need it. I don't want it.” She would never tire of hearing how much he loved her and never tire of letting him know just how much she loved him in return. “Always and forever” she mused softly and perhaps those words held even more importance tonight.  

“I knew that’d be used against me eventually” she teased, pulling his arms tighter around her frame as he murmured into her ear. Her frame trembled against him as she leaned into his touch, “flattery will get you everywhere, babe.” 

Stepping over the threshold and into their bedroom, everything was exactly how they had left it— a reassurance of its own making. There was a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips, as her fingers reached to dance across the top of the dresser, the same way they had when she had walked into the room for the very first time. They were home— this was home and between these walls was an abundance of memories, just for them. “Close my eyes?” she repeated with a slightly suggestive grin, “alright, but if you’re naked when I open them—” her words trailed off into a giggle as she did in fact, closed her eyes; holding out her hands, palms upturned. Her brow creased as the deed was then placed into them and she asked, “a peace offering?” Billie never had been great with surprises, so she had opened her eyes almost immediately. “Wait– is this?” 

She didn’t even have to read the documents, already knowing what this particular peace offering was and there was a pull in her chest, one that dropped through into her stomach. “Do you—“ chewing on the inside of her lip, she shook her head before releasing a steady breath as she held the deeds between them, positioning her free hand against his waist. "Is this what you want, because the choice is ours, baby. Not mine, not Klaus'– its ours.'" The compound was their home, his home and she knew that the only reason to leave was because of her. Her primary focus, her only concern was her husband. "We don't have to do this."

"Hey," Briggs called softly through the haze of memory he knew his wife found herself embedded in, knowing as much where she was at as she knew where he was moments ago. The grip, the halting of her breath, his heart broke with hers. Why couldn't he just fix this? It felt so cruel he couldn't do anything about all the things other people had done. Watching her eyes go almost unseeing, playing back things already at home in her bones, he tried to pull her back out. "Bill." Come back to me.

He had said too much. Torn being sparing her with lies or breaking her heart with the truth, he wasn't sure the right answer had been chosen. Helpless, he stood there, hearing everything, feeling everything. The light was fading from her again. He should have kept his mouth shut, stayed with her. Someone else could have gone after Lysander, why was that his responsibility? Lysander had spoken of his own pride, and Briggs had to wonder if that was his problem too.

Events don’t repeat but they do rhyme. Her husband didn’t kill her. But her husband didn’t protect her either.

His eyes briefly lifted and scanned the room as the words echoed in his mind. It was easy to see where he was wrong about Billie, find all the ways his 'carelessness' had been cruelty. But as he looked around, he could see the truth about himself as he heard the accompanying idea: and that's where you fail in regards to Billie. The OEA in their home, a chasing after Lysander that ended in the same abandonment she'd received from her bio mom. He was good at starting fights, but he couldn't actually manage to finish them. He just made it worse. Was he the next curse on her life? We love you, but we can't handle that.

"I'll always fight for you," he promised, "it's pretty easy, actually, I really just have to state the facts because you're the best damn thing that's ever breathed." Looking into her eyes, he softened his tone all the more, "please don't bury this. I know it hurts, baby, I know." He didn't want her to feel pain, but he knew she needed to feel. The alternative was worse. As she tried to shift the focus onto him, he was quick to shake his head, "I'm fine--it was just a long and really weird experience. I just want you to be okay, that's all I want right now."

Holding tightly to her, he would have stood there all night if all she wanted was to be held. He'd have done anything at all to make this even the slightest bit better. "What are you talking about? Of course I do, I'm not gonna just leave you feeling like this," he murmured, arm pulling her in closer even though there really wasn't any space actually left between them. "It does matter, babe, it does. They took enough, they don't get to own your pain too. It's yours to feel. It's okay that it matters, it's okay that you wanted this. Wanting parents--or parental figures--to care, that's not asking too much. It's never been asking too much."

He could repeat a lot of this until they were old in their bed, but he couldn't make her believe it. However, it would never stop him from saying it, trying like hell to make her see what he could when he looked at her. She was everything. "I love you," he exhaled, "always have. Even before I knew you."

As light as he could make things, he'd fight for that too. He didn't want her to lose all joy in their homecoming. "Now, I didn't say it couldn't be multiple things. Actually it is multiple things, but we'll see where the night takes us." Her laugh let him breathe a little, chasing it as he always did, "I did learn a few things on the island about how to get your full attention. Good exercise." He didn't want her to avoid feeling, but if he could alleviate some of the pain, he wanted to try. If only to get them through the party. "You are so fucking hot," he murmured against her ear, pressing a kiss just behind her ear. Keeping one hand on her waist, he reached around to open their door before giving her a little nudge inside.

He'd only been in earlier to drop off what Klaus had given him, but this was his first time really seeing it again since they'd been home. Now wasn't the time to focus on that, though. "Okay, um, close your eyes," he suggested, as he quietly shut the door behind them, "and hold out your hands." Going to the dresser, he picked up the deed and came and stood in front of her, "so this is from Uncle Klaus, actually, a peace offering." Placing it in her hands, he murmured, "okay, you can open."

[fragmcntedsouls]

‘What did you do?’ The accusation played over and over in her mind, unrest pulsating through her as the taunting memories resurfaced. Given the amount of times she had been asked that very question in her life, how could she not believe that she was the problem? Lysander had just become another vessel with empty eyes and cruel accusations asking ‘what did you do.’ The words became caught in her throat and she hadn't realised that she had been holding onto her breath until her lungs were practically crying out for a breath. For a moment, it was as if she had forgotten how as her grip against her husband tightened and she was subconsciously willing herself to calm– to breathe. Just breathe.  

The sound of Briggs' voice was doing everything to soothe her as she grappled with an urgency to regain composure. To take a damn breath. “You always do” she finally managed, the sound breathless as she fought to focus, but her words were still completely sincere. “You always come back for me. You're always there for me. You always have been."  

The weight against her chest felt unrelenting, the idea that Lysander blamed them for his words, for his choices was sickening. The idea that this was their fault, as if she had put the words in his mouth— she felt ill. It was like her insides were shifting; her expression fell completely vacant and in her devastation she was silent. Billie was becoming increasingly aware of her discomfort as her cheeks became hot as the blood rushed to the surface and any sounds became distorted by the sound of her own heart beating violently against her ribcage. Don't cry. Don't fucking cry.

She had spent her entire life living behind walls for her own protection; but it didn't matter how high she built those defences, she had still been abused, manipulated and used by people who were supposed to love her— except now, she knew that they didn’t know the meaning of the word. The air was once again beaten from her lungs, but she knew that this was the part she had to hear— to stop her from ever making this mistake again. ‘He did say he didn't mean to hurt you, though, said he was careless with his words.’

Her silence remained, unable to find the words, to even begin to articulate the pain she felt, but she knew how hard Briggs was trying to take some of that pain and she appreciated him all the more for it. Still, her heart felt like a led weight and she was humiliated, betrayed and angry. For herself, for her husband. Nodding her head a little clumsily, she whispered “I know you did” knowing that he would defend her with ferocity and she was so very blessed for that. "Thank you. For always fighting for me." Swallowing her emotion, she wanted to strangle the sensation. Bury it so deep that it could never be found again. “The only family I need is the one I have right here” she retorted, but gauging his expression, she felt a knot in her chest as she asked “are you okay?”

As much as she wanted to assure him that this was alright— that it didn’t hurt, but she knew he could see straight through her. So, she sank back into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his frame, burying her features into the crook of his neck and she would stay wrapped within their embrace for a little while. “You don’t have to— it’s okay, baby. You don’t have to try and make me feel better. It doesn’t matter anymore” she willed again, her eyes shutting tightly as she placed a kiss against his neck. "It doesn't have to matter."

The love she had for him was immeasurable and she could feel every ounce of it in return. She wanted to believe that she was the easiest person in the world to love, to believe it might take some of the emotional weight that she felt right now, but she just couldn’t. Lifting her head from his shoulder, she found his gaze as her eyes reopened, her free hand cupping his cheek as she reminded him, “I love you.”

It didn't matter for the heaviness of the situation, his smile could still make her stomach flutter as her expression matched his. “I’m holding you to that” she hummed, finding strength to her voice as he placed a kiss against her forehead. There was a momentary pause followed by encouraged laughter “oh? Now you have my full attention.” They wouldn’t be broken by careless words, nor the actions of careless people. As much as her heart was breaking, she wouldn’t give in to it. Leading them back inside and up the staircase towards their room, she guided his hands to rest around her waist as as he stood behind her, glancing back over her shoulder to muse, “you might have mentioned it— once or twice. I won't say no to hearing it again though.”

The sound of his name off her lips halted the trail of thoughts, drawing his full attention back to her. No one saw him the way she did and vice versa. The sense of being fully understood existed in the space where they stood together. "But I want to promise that, I'll always come back for you. I needed to be sure you were safe." Enough damage had been done to her, and if there was any chance he could have spared her any more, he had to try. He offered a slight nod, but verbally, he couldn't make that confirmation.

They didn't deserve her tears, but that would never mean it didn't hurt. A pain like the kind left behind by those who abandon could only fade, it could never be fully gone. He could never love enough, stay enough, do enough to make that damage go away. "He thinks we are," he replied, quick to shrug as her question is posed. "Not in those exact words, but you know he's kinda hard to understand. The vitriole has always been toward me. If I want to give you a better future, I've got to read the room. He wanted to be cared for, babe." He sucked in air, unable to say the worst of it. "He did say he didn't mean to hurt you, though, said he was careless with his words." It still made his blood boil, the dismissive nature toward the damage caused. As if calling himself a father figure and then deciding he didn't want the expectation wasn't more than careless. "Which is a load of bullshit if you ask me. He doesn't deserve you, none of them do, and I did tell him that."

His own faults faded into the rearview, as there was so much more to tell her. To be sure she knew tonight. "We're a family, you and me. And I mean every word of every promise I have ever given you. This isn't because of you either. Their inability to love you properly says everything about them and nothing about you. You are the easiest person in the world to love, Bill, the easiest. I only ever needed one look at you to love you, and every second since has been a reminder of why." It wouldn't break her, he wouldn't let it, they never deserved that kind of power.

His smile returned at her teasing, seeing what she was doing. "Something else," he bantered back, "however, when I show you what I've got to show you...it could lead to other things you might want." Meeting her kiss against his knuckles with one to her forehead, he promised, "all my dances are yours." It had felt like an eternity since they'd entered the house, bones exhausted, but she had the right idea: they shouldn't be allowed to take them. Guiding her back toward the stairs, positioning himself behind her, he murmured, "I did mention how hot you are tonight, right?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

“Briggs” his name was soft as it eased from her lips, but there was a hint of instruction to the sound— almost pleading with him to vacate his current thought process. She knew exactly where his mind was bound to be going, but she refused to let him wander down that path. “I’ll always find you, baby. You don’t have to promise that, it’s okay. You're safe, that's all that matters.” Her palm ran across his chest as his shoulders dropped; releasing some tension, her fingers opposing hand twisting into his hair and running her thumb against the back of his neck to sooth him. “No apologies” she insisted again and her words firmer this time. 

Billie wouldn’t break— not over this, no matter how heavy her heart felt, nor weak her limbs, she wouldn't waste tears over people who didn’t care for her. Especially not when she had so many others who did and a husband who would move mountains for her. There was however a saddened sigh as he began to explain and she could feel the emotion irritating the back of her throat but her expression remained unchanging. “That wasn’t our fault. We aren’t accountable for that.” The tension was clear from her tone and her jaw tensed, before forcing out a breath. “No. No. Did he say that— about you?” Her chest felt tight, each muscle tensing too as she enclosed her digits around the material of his shirt, tugging him closer. “That isn’t true. It just isn't.” 

Her tone remained soft, but the point that she was making was firm and her gaze refused to release his— knowing that so much more could be communicated through her eyes. “None of this is your fault. None of this was your responsibility. He made his choice. You didn’t influence that, it was his to make. Don’t let him do this to you, baby. Please.” Lifting her hand from his chest, she pushed a stray strand of hair back from his forehead, before rising up so that she could replace her touch with a kiss. “I love you with everything I am, but I don’t accept that apology. You aren’t the cause of this and I wont see you blaming yourself for somebody else's mistake. For someone else's selfish decision. You are my life, baby. You're all I need. I don't care about anything else.” 

Just because the atmosphere was heavy, didn’t mean that she couldn’t find them in it. Her hand dropped from his features, fingers entwining as he reached for her again and her free hand untangled from his hair, she teased “didn’t you already show me that in the kitchen?” Her smile was soft, encouraged to meet her eyes, before lifting their entwined hands to place a kiss against his knuckles as she hummed with a light-hearted edge, “only if you promise to save me a dance.” Even if they didn't feel like it, remarkably the night was still young; they didn't have to stay in this moment; the could find themselves again.

Briggs couldn't understand this, none of it. How people looked at her and everything she was and still left her behind. There was a lot he didn't understand, but this had always been the worst of it. Not a single unlovable thing could ever be found in her. Then again, maybe that was the explanation: a prime target for the selfish taker. She would give until she was empty, and they would take until they had their fill.

Even he was not immune to failing her, maybe among the takers himself, but he would be the one who'd apologize for it. "I'm not gonna leave your side for the rest of the night, I swear," he promised, "I just--I had to do something." He had begged, not for himself, but for her. They had to stop doing this to her. Returning his gaze to her as she asked for it, his shoulders drop slightly as he released some of the tension from a look into her eyes alone. To her words, though, he had nothing but a slight shrug. He'd be sorry for the rest of his life.

Studying her features, he watched her experience it all: the gentle reminder they'd be forever, the devastation of a long-awaited confirmation, the heartbreak of again. For those things alone, he was sorry when Lysander would not be. "It was all about that stupid lord shit," he explained, "not realizing the compulsion was really messing with his head. You were good with him still, like you always are. I...aggravated. Like I always do." It could be summed up simply: she was stuck with him, and he was difficult. "So it was kind of my fault, if I'd taken it seriously from the beginning, he'd never have left you. I really thought it was fine, he talked weird, but so does Zera sometimes. I just didn't see it." With a soft breath, he ran his thumb across her wrist, "so that's why, baby. For being the cause, for not being able to fix it, and for so much else, I'm sorry." Holding her gaze, his eyes conveying what words could not. He saw her. She did want it, but it was easier to say she didn't instead of face that someone else had labeled her not enough, worth less than something made of metal.

His hand took one of hers, intertwining their fingers, they didn't need to do this here. "Wanna sneak up to our room? We'll have a little privacy there, and I gotta show you something."

[fragmcntedsouls]

Billie felt winded; as if the air had been brutally knocked from her lungs and she was left gasping for breath. What was it about her that made her so easy to leave? She had her husband, her mother and a sister in Phoebe, who would never— never leave her, but that was only three people who wouldn’t. Three people, full of a lifetime of people who had. Who still would. Was she asking for too much?

“It’s okay, baby— it's okay” she stressed, the words laced with insistence. Each apology that was spoken with complete sincerity from his heart, made her stomach twist— it made her nauseous to know that one apologising was the one who had never caused her harm. “Look at me” she willed softly, thumb running against his cheek before returning to rest against his jaw “you, you have nothing to be sorry for. You aren’t responsible for their choices, or for protecting me from this. I know that you've tried so hard, you always have but it isn’t on you.”

She held onto him with equal intensity, anchoring each other, comforting each other. “You’re safe, that’s all that matters.” She wasn't sure whether knowing what happened would even help her, would offer closure or clarity, or just further prove her point that she wasn’t enough. Another apology and she shook her head, her features contorting, her anguish clear from the crease in her brow, but she managed a small smile and a nod “I promise.”

The confirmation that Lysander hadn’t been compelled hit harder than she wanted and a white heat surged through her chest, hindering another breath and she swallowed the despair and her defeat and she forced herself to speak. “Why baby — why are you sorry?” shaking her head, one hand dropped to rest against his chest, the other embedding back into his hair as his hand took hold of her wrist. “You never have anything to be sorry for. This was his choice and I don’t need it. Whatever excuse for parental love he’s handing out, I don’t need it. I don’t want it. We don't need it.”

He wanted something different. Leaving town had only delayed the inevitable because everything waited for them. A mother who took the absence to abandon again, a fairy who came back for sword instead of daughter. Their lives kept following a pattern, and no matter what he did, it was never enough to stop it from happening.

The beat of her heart still faster than normal made him cling to her tighter, her panic evident as ever. The longer they held on to one another, the more she seemed to relax. "I hoped--" The word on his tongue tasted bitter. He was so tired of hoping. "I'm sorry," he murmured, letting those words speak volumes for themselves as he pressed his lips against her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

His arm still looped around her, he kept her as steady as he could. Nodding, he exhaled, "I didn't mean to be gone that long." There were just things he couldn't leave to burn. He didn't know why. "I'm sorry. I would never leave you, never. Remember? We're gonna do The Notebook thing." Tilting his head to press his forehead against hers before her hands took his face in them and he found her gaze. He didn't want to tell her, the question she was really asking or the things he would say. "The one we knew is," he said, the ache in his chest in his unbearable, her pain and his mingling together in the place they called home, "I was wrong. He wasn't compelled, Bill." His hand coming to her wrist, he whispered one more time, "I'm sorry."

[fragmcntedsouls]

JORDAN BAKER & LAYLA KEATING All American ◆ 6x05 " Trust Issues"

[fragmcntedsouls]

It felt like they were struggling to swim against an unrelenting current; the waves threatening to drag them under each time they came up for air. She knew how desperately Briggs wanted to find a better version of their world for her— but she was rapidly beginning to believe that such a thing didn’t exist. Their trust had been betrayed time and time again and their love taken for granted and the people who insisted that they loved them, didn’t know how to. 

As their bodies collided, she finally felt like she could take a breath as a full bodied sigh urged from her lungs. “I’ve got you” she murmured, her arms tightening around his frame; fingers embedding into his hair as she buried her features against the crook of his neck. “It’s okay– I know” the sound of her voice still had a slight tremor, but she was beginning to settle as her breaths returned to a steady rhythm. “It isn’t for us to fix, baby. It just isn’t.”

Holding on for as long as she could, they remained within their embrace until Billie lifted her head from his neck, nudging his cheek with her nose as she nodded against him, “yeah— yeah, i’m alright, I was just worried about you." Another shaky breath carried between them. "When you didn't come back I—” and she forced herself to dismiss the thought, shuddering against him. She wouldn't think like that. Her lips grazed his cheek; before leaning back so that her hands were cupping his jaw as she encouraged him to look at her, “is he—” gone? was what she wanted to ask, but her brow furrowed and she shook her head, knowing wouldn't change a thing.

Confronting Lysander had taken longer than expected, and the reality behind it all was as vibrant as ever. He'd been desperate to bring something back to her, a better version of their world. Everything he'd done, all the chances, were in hopes she could have something she'd been denied again and again. But there was no compulsion. Choices, instead, had been made.

Stumbling away from the scene, he had returned inside to see something else. His mom talking to the coven leader who had sacrificed his sister, sacrificed him. Innocence. Whose hands were clean. The chatter of the ball was deafening, a roar between his ears. His hands weren't clean, no, they were blood-stained. He wasn't innocent. The reality had never been louder. Slipping back out as he had come in, he brushed against his hands as if wiping them clean.

Where was his wife? He was going in the wrong direction for her, but he'd never felt more lost. The footing seemed unstable, earth shattering around him like glass. Her voice reached him, called to him, as he reached for her. Their hearts aligned, in tune, one.

Turning around, he spotted her. One step, then another, and he was running toward her with equal intensity. "My love," he mumbled, arms around her to catch her and gripping her tight. "I'm okay. I'm sorry," he promised, "I--" Pausing, he attempted to find a word--or string of words--for it. There was none. He just felt heavy. "I tried. I really did." Pressing his lips into her shoulder, he held her until the world felt still again. "Are you alright?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

Asher visibly relaxed at the sound of Phee’s voice, his eyes never leaving her as he gazed with complete awe. She looked stunning and he would ensure that she knew it; reminding her at every given opportunity. Without Phoebe, he didn’t even want to think about where he might be right now. His life had changed and changed for the better and she had been his very own guiding light. 

He knew that tensions would be running high over the course of the evening and he was concerned for their friends and for his sisters but he wasn’t going to allow for the OEA to take another second of his life for their cruel enjoyment. “i’m pretty sure these are crystal” he hummed, glancing at the glass before back to Phee, “you think Briggs’ aunt is gonna notice if a couple of these go missing?” He was joking, he was definitely— joking?

He wasn’t planning on leaving Phoebe’s side this evening and he knew that she was worried about Billie and in turn he was worried about her. Whilst she was a beacon of strength, he would be there for her to lean on if she needed to and it was clear how much they cared for one another.

His features softened and a breath hitched in the back of his throat; knowing that she cared for him as deeply as he cared for her. “I’ve got a really great support system” he mused, his hand reaching for her wrist as he gently ran his thumb across her skin, “so i'd say i’m doing alright.” A content sigh eased from his lips, his eyes transfixed by hers as he asked “and you? — are you doing okay?”

The year had been theirs to share, a few vacations, seasons worth of planning, and a lot of fun. She knew his therapy work hadn't come to an end, but she wasn't just around for the good bits. She was around for the real bits too. Seeing their friends again tonight had been really good, and though she talked to Billie regularly, she missed her like crazy when they weren't together. She also knew what being here tonight would mean for her, for all of them.

"I'd say more than an entire year's salary," Phee quipped, tapping her glass against his. She could see the tension in his body, much like Billie's. The gala, the betrayal from Klaus, it was still ever present.

Lowering her voice because it was no one's business but she wanted him free to express if he was feeling anxious, she asked softly, "how are you handling things?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

billie mikaelson ✦ briggs mikaelson // @ofmoonlitmagic

Briggs had been gone longer than she had expected; than any of them had expected and Billie's increasing anxiety was all consuming. Nothing would settle her until she was reunited with Briggs and she wasn't going to spend another second apart. Her heart was breaking and she could feel it; it didn't matter that she wasn't physically with him, she could feel the agony as though it was her own.

'I can't— I can't wait any longer. What if somethings happened, what if he's—" she physically couldn't face the fear of him being hurt. 'I'll be fine, but I have to go' she urged to her mother, pulling away before the anticipated protest from Zeraphine could arise. Briggs needed her and nothing would keep her from him. 'Just tell Klaus about Lysander, please' she pleaded once more, her hand gripping Zera's before releasing as she left her mothers side.

With urgency, Billie forced her way through the crowd, following instinct and instinct alone to find him and he was guiding her, maybe without even realising. She could feel him, feel herself being drawn closer; terrified that something was wrong.

"Briggs— baby where are you?" she called as she left the compound, her tone trembling as her movements became faster and she called out to him again. It felt as if she had been frantically searching for an age, before a full bodied sense of relief surged through her and she saw him.

Her feet barely touched the ground as she ran full pelt towards him, the material of her dress gathered in one hand; her speed unrelenting. Her heart was beating so harshly that it managed to distort all other sound as she finally reached him, throwing her arms around him and pulling him close. "Please tell me you're okay."

[fragmcntedsouls]

Returning the ring was non-negotiable and whilst Billie didn’t believe that Marni deserved the cruel fate that she had been handed, she refused to have her husband caught in the crossfire again. The ring belonged to Briggs, but she understood the twisted irony behind Marni being the one who helped her acquire it.

Following the sound of Marni’s voice she managed to locate her “it won't, your tolerance is crazy high now – but I have something just for you that I promise will take the edge off. Briggs will try and claim it to be his own recipe and I love him and he is brilliant, but I thought i’d spare you from the horror on your lungs and bring you something smoother. ” Billie was anxious and she was rambling, but she knew that if she didn’t tone it down, she was going to scare Marni off.

Standing ahead of Marni now, her chest felt heavy as she released a steady breath and the sound of Marni’s mantra was haunting. “No, you aren’t" and her words were firm and she stepped closer. “I don’t think that’s horrible. I think you have every right to feel the way that you do and you shouldn’t feel guilty for it either.” Falling silent, she nodded – but not before remembering the special blend joint in her hands that she held out for Marni to take along with a lighter. “I’ll let him know, but he won’t believe it until he’s heard it from you.”

Just as Billie had prepared to head inside, had Marni asked her question and for a second, she felt a pang of discomfort as she turned to face the hybrid again with a gentle sigh. “Because–” she began, guiding Marni over towards the firepit as they talked “because he loves me and he loves me so well that all that love outweighed any of the hate that I held for myself. It wasn’t overnight and it has taken time, patience and persistence, but I realised that pushing him away was exactly like evicting him from his own home. Not letting him in, not letting him help is worse.”

Marni just wanted to go home, feeling suffocated by people on every side. She just wanted to scream and scream and never stop. The need to escape sent her from the hall, trying to get fresh air like that would be a saving grace. Nothing felt solid, life an endless sense of falling. Pulling her mask from her face, she bit the inside of her cheek to stop the burning in the back of her throat from winning.

When Billie first called to her, she didn't say anything, hoping she'd go away. She knew it wasn't her fault. She was like Abel in her determination to end the suffering of the person she loved, but there was a part of Marni who just wanted them to give it back. Her entire life was a lie, but Briggs had a family. A family who'd been through it all, who could help him. She only had Abel, and it wasn't fair to ask him to relive his own torture to help her. You chose to sacrifice Abel, you chose to sacrifice Jesse, I never forced you to do anything that you didn’t want to do. Maybe her mom was right: maybe she was getting exactly what she deserved. But what about what Abel deserved?

"I drank half the bar, it didn't help," Marni finally spoke, eyes vacantly staring out in front of her. "But thanks." She didn't want to be a burden anymore, and right now, she didn't know on what side of right or wrong she truly fell. Was she a monster? Was she anything? "I am the cause of my own suffering," she murmured as if it were a mantra, "so what am I crying about?" That wasn't really to Billie, who still stood there. Glancing over at the banshee, she added, "I couldn't see her smile anymore. Is that horrible to say?" She shook her head, instant regret over the statement. "Tell Abe I'm fine, please, just wanted some fresh air." A pause, she did have another question, another unfair question. "How did you do it? Let him help you and not feel like it's the worst thing you've ever done?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

There was a moment where Keelin was certain that she would not be letting go of her son. Her arms tightened around him, enclosing him within the possession of a mothers embrace, welcoming her baby boy home, but she knew just how hard it was for him to be back. For that she would never forgive the Mikaelson name. 

Although unwilling, she did eventually lean back, keeping her arms around him as she leaned back enough to look at him. Her eyes carefully studied each feature, before her hands lifted to cup his cheeks; thumbs running across cheekbones. “Oh, sweetheart – sorry for what?” A crease formed against her brow and a soft sigh urged from her lips, concerned for the unwarranted guilt that she could sense upon him now. “I missed you and I’m okay you never have to worry about me.” Her assurance came softly, a nod accompanying the words, but her head ached for him, eager to settle his concerns. “Baby boy, it’s alright” she promised, “i’m happy that you’re home, I'll always be so grateful for that, but you have to do what is right for you and for your wife. You are what is most important."

The guilt for leaving his mother would linger--not that he left her; but as she embraced him, he held on tight. He wasn't ungrateful for all she had done, and he knew, in his heart, she did know that. The city itself became unbearable, but seeing his momma like this, he couldn't bear that either.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, trying to fit hours, days, months into a few sentences, "I missed you. Are you okay?" They couldn't stay, things would have been worse if they had, but going hadn't seemed like the right thing either. Was there a right answer? "I'm here now, I'm gonna stay, where do you need me? I'll do whatever."

[fragmcntedsouls]

billie mikaleson ✦ marni lewis // @shadcwcursed

“Marni?” Billie was trying to sound inconspicuous, but after spotting the hybrid leaving the hall, paired with the look of concern that had been on Abel's face; she had volunteered to go and check on her. While she wasn't eager to leave Briggs' side, the compound was still home; she refused to feel unsafe in it.

As she crossed the courtyard and left the festivities, she called out again “It’s – Billie and I know i’m probably the last person you wanna see right now, but I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” It was a stupid thing to say and something she regretted from the second the words had left her lips. Marni wasn’t okay and Billie was aware that they’d been on the receiving end of some angered looks after the conversation that had been had with Everleigh about the ring. 

After Briggs had triggered, Billie had exhausted the Mikaelson's resources for every ounce of information on the turn that she could. Having searched through hours of harrowing content, of documented wolves completing the transformation; their bodies twisting and contorting as each bone broke and and broken again. It didn't matter how much time had passed, she knew that Marni wasn't okay. “I brought you something; which might just make this whole night a little more tolerable.”

[fragmcntedsouls]

It was all too clear that they were both enjoying this power trip more than they should have been, but Klaus was under no illusions that their merriment would last. Eventually, Laine would try to overthrow him, just as he intended to overthrow her. Whilst they had their differences, the similarities were striking. The hybrid just had to ensure that he was the stronger player in their delusional game. His lips twitched with amusement, glancing at her over his shoulder with a smirk as he countered “get along seems like bit of a stretch– perhaps tolerate would be a term more fitting?” He was teasing her– mostly. Laine’s confidence was unmatched and Klaus had to admire it, when she said she wasn’t afraid of him, whilst her choice was foolish – astonishingly, he believed her. However there was still time for her to revaluate that statement and Klaus was nothing of not persuasive.

“How magnanimous of you” he taunted, brow lifting “I never knew my family were of such great concern. Perhaps, I can return the gesture.” There was no time like the present to play with a little leverage and finding Dex in the crowd, Klaus brought attention to him. “I trust all is well amongst your own family – it’s quite large from my understanding.” His tone became harsher, brow heavy as he stated, “may I suggest that you remind them we offered peace.” Whilst Dex might have joined the cause it was clear that the rest of the family were divided. “The witches of the city have always been a thorn in my side and unfortunately, that is something that won’t change. Their opinions are rather loud but the execution of their delusion desires for the city are far less threatening. They won’t be a problem – if they are, we simply deal with them.” 

Laine was diabolical and she was brilliant – two of Klaus favorite things, but he had promised his son not to lose sight of the end goal and he wouldn’t. Laine was and would indefinitely be their enemy; but he would enjoy luring her into a false sense of security. “Very clever” he quipped to her wit, before the shift came. From the moment the words had been spoken, he knew there would be protest and he had struck all the nerves at once. “Easy, love. We’ve a united front to keep.” His brow lifted, taking another sip from his glass to conceal his smirk. As brilliant and as special as she might be – beneath it all he was eager to exploit those human emotions. Her desire for importance would become her downfall, just as it had been Klaus’. Her speech was spotless, practised no doubt but she was in a vulnerable position, trusting the enemy– “and you, without me. I am under no illusions that we do not necessarily need one another, but I will admit that our efforts are greater together.” He didn’t appreciate her warning, but he had provoked her and so for now he would allow it to slide. “Don’t pout. But, I take enjoyment in knowing that my opinion is of such great importance to you.” He knew not to underestimate Laine, as infuriating as that thought was. An original and his family bested by a human; the idea was humiliating, but the circumstances were complex. If they had a shred of hope of making it through the evening unscathed, Klaus understood there would have to be some give and take between them; a balance that they were working on finding. “They are family. There is no bond, nor earthly gift greater. I assume you don’t share the same sentiment?” He was poking and prying now, but he would quite while he was ahead. Relaxing with a stead exhale, he tilted his head as he lifted his glass for a toast as he repeated, “long may we reign.”

It was a delightful game of chess, a rarity in her life to find herself matched in intelligence. Human, mortal, though she was, that was half the challenge. She had already out-lived plenty who were sure they'd be left standing when the OEA reached where they were now, and all she had to do was look at the crowd tonight and count the dead among them, present company included. "A taste much like yourself," Laine volleyed back, "maybe that's why we get along so well." She knew he found her to be a necessary evil, and they were in no way friends, but sometimes, it could be fun to take that knife and twist. His threat was heard loud and clear, though her gaze did not waver to said family. "Should you need any help, you always know where to find me. May I suggest you remind them we offered peace? The witches wanted more war, but don't they always?" People were quick to argue with her back then about the peaceful, harmless nature of witches, as if most war in the supernatural community couldn't be linked back to them. Their curses too.

A smirk met his initial comments, ironic as they were. If there were multiple, parallel universes, there was definitely one where they were friends. "You know the phrase, don't you? Takes one to know one?" She wondered if he knew his body count or if it had long be lost to 'far too many.' As he no doubt expected, her lips lost their upward tug at hurtful dismissal. "Look around," she hissed, "could you have done any of this with my predecessor? You need my mind, and it is special." Oh, he was winding her up, and he was doing it on purpose. Exhaling, she steadied herself. "A war endangers the ones you love most, and because of my power within my organization, we have a world where, with any luck, you'll see grandchildren. Don't bite the hand that feeds, Klaus, or you can show me how you'd do this without me. Sounds to me like a lot more blood would be involved, but what do I know? I'm just replaceable."

He was quick to turn his attitude around, but then again, she was quick to push his buttons in return. The one downside to the alliance and their similarities, they did read the other rather well. "Have some more champagne then," she remarked. She was anything but stupid, and despite the threats she'd made, she knew he would choose the path of blood if she pushed him beyond the limit of his patience. "Your loyalty to them is admirable," she offered, though maybe it was laced with a thought he could ponder on: it wasn't reciprocated in the same way. He trusted them, they didn't trust him. "Shall we toast to our alliance instead? Long may we reign."

[fragmcntedsouls]

Understandably, their family saw Klaus’ alliance with the OEA as a betrayal – a betrayal of their love and of their trust. Something of which Klaus had anticipated. He knew that in order to get them ahead, he had to betray that trust and their beliefs; to make it appear genuine in order to be believed.

As greatly as it pained him; he ensured to keep that pain suppressed but he could sense his nephews struggle and it felt like own heart was being torn from his chest. He knew the look on Briggs’ face well, an expression of complete and utter defeat – torn between wanting to trust Klaus and fearing what trusting him would do. His question was fair and Klaus wouldn’t lie. “The witch was exploiting you, your abilities your connections and your emotions. I had hopes that the OEA and the coven would destroy each other in equal parts – but alas, Everleigh underestimated her fight. I couldn’t stand by and allow for her to manipulate and covens as a whole are tricker to handle. The OEA had a personal relation – I simply had to plant doubt and wait.” From the second he had been permitted to step foot inside of the OEA’s head quarters, he had gone looking for the evidence of the experiments and regrettably, he had witnessed the tapes of the torture; seen the horrors inflicted upon 'subject 87'. And so he understood – he understood every ounce of Briggs’ rage and that despair that he could reach out and touch. Their demise would be spectacular, for Briggs, for Hope and for Billie he would ensure it. The OEA would not escape from this unscathed or as successors, but with Klaus behind enemy lines in their eyes – he couldn’t find the tools he needed to deconstruct them. Perhaps this wasn’t what Briggs wanted to hear, but it was Klaus’ truth. “Regardless of the circumstances, the moves would have always been the same.” 

There was a moment of reprieve and although it was fleeting, it offered Klaus the opportunity to catch his breath. He was ignorant to ever believe that he could shoulder this burden for his nephew. Briggs loved deeper than anybody he had encountered in a thousand years and his loyalty honestly knew no bounds. “I am sorry” he relented and the words were genuine. His heart ached to know that he couldn’t save Briggs from this. Briggs' question held irrefutable fact and Klaus’ heart contorted in his chest for the truth behind it “our family won’t be left with nothing” he assured, “the only person in this scenario who could possibly be is me, Briggs.” 

A sigh surged from his lungs and his features softened, “you're stronger than even you realise and I have meant every word that I have ever said about your importance in this family. Your importance — to me. I care for you as though you are a son of my own. I wouldn’t ask for your trust, if this was not the only way, Briggs. I understand you are hurt by my decision — that you feel betrayed by it – by me and for that, I do not deserve forgiveness, but I ask for it anyway. I can make this right. I can ensure a future where you and our family will be safe, your children and theirs. We will be the reason for the destruction of the OEA, that much I can promise.” Lifting his free hand, Klaus placed it against the back of Briggs’ neck, encouraging for their gazes to meet as he stated firmly, “I will not fail you. Nor fail this family. I know our goal, Briggs. I will not lose sight of that. We will have our vengeance, you, Hope and Billie will have your vengeance. I swear it.”

As Briggs looked towards Billie, Klaus nodded “of course” before his eyes found Zerpahine and he found his calm. He then started to lead his son towards one of the studies, speaking nonchalantly as they walked. "I would like for you to be my counsel. Every decision made, you oversee and I will take on board both opinion and judgment." There was a subtle smile, pushing open the study door and motioning for Briggs to step, "which isn't what I wanted to show you. Come on."

Sitting on the desk was a set of deeds and beside the deeds was a key card; to which Klaus was pointing to both, before walking towards. "Taking council from those who know you and Billie best, I have found you an apartment that I believe you will both enjoy. You can decline and of course you are both welcome to remain in the compound, but in case you wish for somewhere for privacy, then I felt this place most befitting of your needs." Releasing a steady breath, he then lifted the key card for an OEA cell and handed it towards his son, bringing attention to the name written on it. "As barbaric as the method may seem, I felt this particular prisoner would be of interest to you and your wife. The last Lancastor from what I can gather. I had hoped it could be a peace offering of sorts. Or perhaps you can consider it to be a late anniversary gift. You may dispose of him however you wish."

His life had been one very long battle, and it had taught him more about war than most would ever see. He knew how his uncle thought, perhaps the hardest part about the whole thing. He could see the business behind the decision and the tactic of getting behind the enemy lines. Swallowed by the beast, ripping your way out, that made sense. It was the way the OEA appeared to thrive, to run their circles around them like a victory lap, that was hard to bear. The head vs. the heart: that was this era of battle.

Finally, his gaze returned to Klaus, feeling the resolve slipping. He knew that was part of Billie's concern with being back here; it would be a lot harder for Briggs to look him in the eye and not cave. She worried, maybe as she should, of what they might mean for him. There was little Briggs would not do for his dad. "Tell me this," he started, addressing something that had been haunting him since the beginning. He hesitated, second-guessing if he wanted to know. "If Billie and I had not made the moves we did, if I hadn't gone to the prison world, if I didn't have this," he asked, holding up his wedding ring, "would you have needed to make the move you did?"

The shift in the tone was obvious, heard loud and clear. Shaking his head, he muttered, "I don't think you're cruel. You can make decisions most can't, and you've got the track record." He knew they couldn't get deep into this here, not in the company that surrounded them. Briggs wanted another way forwards, but he didn't have one. He could hate the plan all he wanted, but he didn't have a counter-offer. Klaus clearly knew that. Yet, he still softly shook his head because that was one thing the great legend, Klaus Mikaelson, could not do. Not for him. "They're my girls. I live with it, you can't take that for me. No matter how much you might want to." He wasn't sure exactly what he was saying, but it was sounding a lot to his own ears like folding. "Just, if in the end, we've won, but we have nothing left...did we win?" What would beating the OEA cost them? Hadn't that been the question from the start?

He nodded once more. Twenty five vs. a thousand years, he couldn't deny he didn't have the experience to argue. The enemies Klaus had defeated were countless, and all Briggs had to his defense was that this hurt. "I won't let it swallow me," he murmured. Billie, Riley, his trigger, the worst things in life had already happened to him. But maybe that was the worst thing that could have happened: to know you can survive anything. "This family gave me everything," he reasoned aloud, "I won't turn my back now, not just because it's hard. I won't turn my back on you." To leave Klaus alone in this, that felt that the darker option. Maybe he said it best: if there was another way.

His eyes darted over to his wife, not moving for a beat. Then mouthing, 'stay with Zera', he turned to his dad, "alright, but not long, okay? I need to be with Billie."

[fragmcntedsouls]

“A shame?” Oliver quipped, his brow rising and falling expressively “I’d say that the’s opposite of a damn shame, Bel” he taunted. “They drink like damn fish. Make one hell of a mess too.” His chest tightened as she paused, knowing exactly what thoughts were going through her head and so he wouldn’t bring focus to it. Instead, he nudged her shoulder with his “we were drinkin’ moonshine that was stashed in the floorboards and vodka made from potatoes. These little shits ain't got any idea how good they have it.” There was a pause and then a laugh, the sound full bellied as he shook his head, “you don’t wanna know what me and Jord get up to – or maybe you do and you’re a hell of a lot freakier than I remember.” Nudging her again, he chuckled “asshole” to her quip and his amusement faded into a softer expression. “Head to toe – pretty sure that shit’s designer, too" chuckling he couldn't resist adding, "now watch him get chips n’ dip all down that expensive tie. I give him ten minutes.” The smack to his arm had been anticipated and he made an ill attempt to dodge it, “shit, compliments cost extra, darlin'."

"Kinda a shame those kids are satisfied with the beer in that basement, not knowing where we'd put the good stuff," Annabel joked, "then again, at their age, we thought a fridge stocked with beer was a miracle." She paused as she realized she'd miscalculated, but she didn't say it. At their age, she was in prison. Tonight, they'd fuck around and laugh at the dumbest shit, otherwise, the powers that be won. Speaking of, she tilted her head, "so you and Jord don't roleplay, noted." There was no way she was letting that slide, "because that's a mood killer." A proud smile pulled on her lips. "The Mikaelson kid hook him up?" Smacking his arm, she playfully scolded, "you better not, you tell him how handsome he looks."

[fragmcntedsouls]

@exitiumstarters ✦ andreas mondragon

"I look stupid" Andreas grumbled, tugging at the top button of his collar just so that he could breathe. His grumble however was interrupted by the presence of a waiter offering appetizers; instead of just taking one the dragon pulled the entire tray from their grasp and began shovelling them into his mouth four at a time. "Yo" he spluttered, chewing obnoxiously "you gotta try this shit."

[fragmcntedsouls]

From the moment that they had met, they had understood each other both with and without words. Sometimes she swore that he could read her mind, that her eyes could tell stories, but those three words, she would cherish them forever. It didn’t matter that it had taken them time to say — they had just been kids when they met, kids whose lives had been cruel and back then they didn't need the words; because they had acts of love and they knew. His love meant everything to her; it had always meant everything. “I wasn’t fair before” she whispered, not wishing to taint their mood, so she wouldn’t dwell on it. “The things I said, I wasn’t fair. I understand, baby. I know and whatever you decide, whatever you need, I’m with you.”

Their love was something that was entirely unique. It was a love that had existed even before they had and a love that had pulled them together over the course of their entire lives. Their love would not falter, nor waver beneath any test or trial they might face. They were stronger together. Breathing in a soft breath of his scent, her eyes fluttered shut as he held her close, fingers curled into the material of his jacket as the warmth of his body soothed her. Taking a moment before lifting her head again, her eyes reopening to tease “oh, people would skip the book and demand the movie. Can't say i'd blame them though. They might learn something.“ 

More than anything, she wanted to be able to hold him and to ease his worries. If unable to ease his worries, then instead she would be his comfort and his confidant – to guide him through any uncertainty. But above it all, she wanted to believe that Klaus would not fail them. 

Her lips pursed within thought, brow creasing as she taunted “I don’t remember it quite like that.” Except, she did – that was exactly how she remembered it. “The important thing is, I managed to talk her out of it and we didn’t end up in museum jail.” There was a hum of appreciation as his hands settled against her hips, her own running against his shirt to rest against his ribs “she really liked that vase. Maybe I can trade Dreas a chicken leg for it back. After – it's been steam cleaned. Like five times.” Whilst she probably should have been kidding – she wasn’t. A chicken leg would work wonders. As his palms continued to explore her body, her breaths began to slow, leaning herself into his touch and having to release a steady breath, “keep that up and we’re not going back to the party.”

She couldn’t let Laine get inside her head. To poison her own mind against her – which ironically, Billie had done to her. A hand lifted from his ribs to rest against the nape of his neck, attentive to draw him closer as her fingers curled into his hair and his caressed her features. “It’s the easiest thing in the world” she promised, words both had spoken before; in a situation not unlike this. The sight of his smile made her stomach flutter and her love for him only grew as she breathed out, “thank you.”  

Eventually, her smile softened but remained a prominent fixture upon her features as her warm gaze held onto his. “One of the best days of my life” she hummed, “seeing you standing there; even if you were getting ready to throw your bag at me" she teased. "One look and I was all yours. I was home.” Her laughter was eager to return, even more so as he lifted her leg and began adorning her neck and her jaw with kisses. Her lips parted as a breath urged from them, her hips tilting into his as her back arched “we’re definitely not making it back in there.” 

As their gazes levelled out, Billie's smile widened and she had almost forgotten her previous anxieties. “Never” she swore and despite his taunt, her words were entirely sincere. “We can consider it a welcome home gift” tapping her finger against the side of the bottle, she giggled “we're rich as shit now, baby – it’s gotta be beer pong in the good glasses. Besides, Rebekah activities aside, I think Rebekah would have a fit if she saw us drinking out of a plastic cup.” A mischievous grin played upon her lips, "we can grab Asher and Phee, make it a boys vs. girls competition? or you know, a couples match."

They could say more in silence than many could with a thousand words, and there was an indescribable peace to that sense of being so fully understood. "I love you," he replied, savoring the brush of her lips to his cheek and the way it flowed through every heightened sense his curse had gifted, "madly." She was wrapped up in his arms, slowly steadying the rhythm of her breath to match his own. This would not change everything, he knew that. The road ahead was long, and some questions might never be answered; but one thing was certain, they could always come back here. To them. "I would say they could write about our time on the island," he offered back, a slight smirk on his lips as he held her gaze, watched the way her laughter was imminent to break through, "but that's another type of book altogether."

A promise to her would always be one he would fight to his last breath to make true. He couldn't see the plan as Klaus had it currently laid out, but he had to trust it. Otherwise, he knew Billie would never have the justice he wanted for her.

The feeling of tension leaving her body, of that sound flowing freely again between them, stilled him all the more. "I'm pretty sure I told you that was a bad idea," he teased, his features reveling briefly in being right and mimicking her argument somewhat, "'she'll love it, baby' And well, you weren't wrong." His hands settling easily on her hips, the smile had returned for good as she spoke. He was enamored with every bit of her. "That was a lot of shouting, and I thought Uncle Klaus was loud," he joked, shaking his head as she was right he didn't want to know. "Ignorance is bliss, I think." The touch continued on as if it's own conversation, a million declarations. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as she offered her tease. "I know," he bantered back, "I happen to like your everywhere."

He tried to rewrite that narrative for her, steal every bit of power Laine wanted to think she had over her. Billie hadn't gotten as many lessons with Phee as had seemed possible a year ago, but she would gain control. Just like he had over his abilities, which was all thanks to the Mikaelsons. "So do I," he murmured, "and that's okay. It's okay to be angry, it's okay to hate her. You can feel all of that. I won't let you lose control of it." His fingers still against her face, he breathed out an old reminder, a still familiar one, "keep looking at me." Shaking his head, his smile softer but still present, "I remind you you're strong."

That light, that beautiful light, sparked again in her eyes, though not all the way to what it had once been, Briggs would grasp any sign or flicker of hope that he could. They hadn't lost everything. The life he wanted to build for her was still possible, and maybe it was even closer than they realized. "You always got me," he whispered more sincerely, "from the very first day, you had me." His heart had always belonged to her. Now, the next sound was also one he could chase forever, so he was not in the least discouraged from continuing to appreciate his wife's very well-designed dress. Inching up her leg, he trailed kisses along her jawline and neck, muttering against her skin, "I do love when you think ahead."

As his gaze returned to hers, the look on her face would keep the fire in him alive for years. To be this person for her, it was the greatest honor, and one he wouldn't ever treat carelessly. "Have I ever disappointed?" He teased, watching her eyes as she considered his suggestion. That would be one way to turn this party around. Every sense attuned to her, he was still buzzing from the kiss alone. "It's ours now, sorry to the next person who comes looking. It's a party favor." See, he told her Uncle Klaus would make it up to them...even if he wasn't aware they were taking this. "Ah, tonight's not for keeping it simple. Beer pong all day, baby. We gotta have some cheap ass cups here somewhere," he paused, raising a brow, "or do we want to play beer pong with the expensive shit?"

[fragmcntedsouls]

Watching his mom indulging in life’s simple delights was everything. So much of her life had been lost– except that wasn’t right. So much of her life had been stolen and from the second that they had been reunited, Abel vowed that he would never allow for harm to come to her again. “Ain’t just back in your day” he teased, brow rising and falling playfully. Even if he didn’t feel much like smiling, without fail his mom could always coax one out of him. Her next words however, did cause for his features to relax, swallowing his unease "they owe you a hell of a lot more than some chips n' dip."

There wasn't any sour mood that Annabel couldn't turn around and eventually, Abel was laughing. He knew his mom, she wasn’t kidding and shit, he’d have done it; even if only to make her smile. Glancing towards his wrist as if checking a watch he taunted “there’s still time – maybe we can get a couple of those water squirtin’ corsages too; fill em with bourbon.” His eyes then glanced towards her hand as it lay against his arm and he would forever be grateful for the reminders that this was real. At first he rolled his shoulders, as if physically ridding himself of the mood, but Annabel knew her son. “No, ma – it’s nothin’ like that. It was uh" clearing his throat, he ran his hand against the back of his neck, "me and Oak. I've kind of– let her down a lot lately." Releasing an unsteady breath, his eyes found his mothers mirroring own and in a moment of weakness, he asked "do I– do I ever remind you of dad? like the bad– parts?"

( @fragmcntedsouls | abel. )

"Hey, can I have some more this dip, please?" Annabel asked one of the passing wait staff before turning her attention back to her son. "Back in my day, you used to have to pretend someone was interesting to eat this good," she quipped, trying to make him smile. The weight of the world on those shoulders, she hated every second of seeing that burden she'd not been around to relieve. "They may have made a deal with the devil, but they eat like Greek gods."

The OEA, or the makings of it, had stolen her life, but she was patient. That's how a wolf hunts: patient, stalking the prey, watching for weaknesses...and in a pack. "I told you we should have gotten the plastic superhero masks from Party City," she teased before she placed a hand on his arm, her voice softer, "what's wrong? Besides the obvious." The spun her finger around to indicate the room. She may have missed a lot of his life, but she still knew her son. "You and Marni fight?"