I was only a girl when I wore those clothes I was unfaithful, I lived as I chose I want only to haunt you, but you’re never there I died so I could have you I died so I could haunt you
"This is a truce," he says before she can run, handing her a glass of champagne.
She sizes him up, weighing all the things he's been to what he is now, a beast hidden in gentleman's clothing. "Fine," she says.
His hand slides over the table, not to cover hers but only to connect their fingertips, as if love for a monster were something you could transmit by touch, a sort of contagious disease.
"You've changed," he says.
She tilts her head, considers him. For the first time of his life since she craved something other than sweet peas he feels self-conscious about his appearance, the red dahlia at his bouttonière"You haven't," is what she decides on. He doesn't know if that's something else he should be sorry for
( ... )
In the end it doesn't kill him. It doesn't kill her, either. But something else does.
He's there when it happens. Klaus is talking to her, making a deal or another, and she's standing in front of him, not afraid but coiled - ready to spring should the need present itself, sneaking glances at him from underneath her eyelashes. And Elijah thinks, maybeBut then a blade comes out of nowhere, not even special or beautiful, a common wooden dagger, and Elijah watches as it tears the skin of her throat - the blood leaps out like it couldn't wait to get out, a geyser - Elijah jumps forward, not trying to understand what is happening, just the primal urge - she clutches her hands to her throat
( ... )
I was only a girl when I wore those clothes
I was unfaithful, I lived as I chose
I want only to haunt you, but you’re never there
I died so I could have you
I died so I could haunt you
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"This is a truce," he says before she can run, handing her a glass of champagne.
She sizes him up, weighing all the things he's been to what he is now, a beast hidden in gentleman's clothing. "Fine," she says.
His hand slides over the table, not to cover hers but only to connect their fingertips, as if love for a monster were something you could transmit by touch, a sort of contagious disease.
"You've changed," he says.
She tilts her head, considers him. For the first time of his life since she craved something other than sweet peas he feels self-conscious about his appearance, the red dahlia at his bouttonière"You haven't," is what she decides on. He doesn't know if that's something else he should be sorry for ( ... )
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In the end it doesn't kill him. It doesn't kill her, either. But something else does.
He's there when it happens. Klaus is talking to her, making a deal or another, and she's standing in front of him, not afraid but coiled - ready to spring should the need present itself, sneaking glances at him from underneath her eyelashes. And Elijah thinks, maybeBut then a blade comes out of nowhere, not even special or beautiful, a common wooden dagger, and Elijah watches as it tears the skin of her throat - the blood leaps out like it couldn't wait to get out, a geyser - Elijah jumps forward, not trying to understand what is happening, just the primal urge - she clutches her hands to her throat ( ... )
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Thank you so much for filling my prompt!!! You write ever so fantastically and I find your take on the ship really interesting! <3
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