The Originals Imagines #Wattys2017

Rubens

You turned around the moment you heard the door opening. This was going to be it. This was going to be the moment that he would tell you it had been fun while it lasted, but that he had found someone else to occupy himself with. That was how it always went, and you didn't see why Elijah would be any different in that. You tensed when you heard his voice.
"Y/N? Why are you tucked away in that corner like that?" You turned around, slowly. You didn't want to, didn't want him to see the tear streaks that must be visible on your cheeks.
"Just tell me if it's over, ok?" He looked surprised.
"Over? Why do you think that? I told you I would be a bit later because I had something to arrange first?" You shrugged.
"That's always how it works. First you're busy, then you still have to do something, and finally you admit you can't stand it anymore to look at me. Don't deny it, Elijah. I've seen it, over and over again."
He didn't answer, he just looked at you, until you started to feel uncomfortable, and started to shift your weight.
"Why don't you say something?" Why didn't he just get it over with? He didn't smile, he just looked, until he stepped closer to you, taking your wrists, the wrists you had closed over your chest, in his hands, spreading your arms.
"Why would you ever think I would not be able to look at you anymore?" You rolled your eyes.
"Because I'm fat!" He shook his head.
"You do not fit the current ideal figure, you mean. Do you honestly think I am that shallow that I care about that? I have picked you, my love. I will not suddenly change my opinion because the commoners think I should..." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, and you felt his hands resting on your shoulders before he started to unbutton your blouse.
"You are beautiful, my love... Rubens would have killed to have a shot at painting you." He slipped the fabric off you, his hands slightly touching your arms, causing you to get goosebumps. He traced the scar you had on your under arm.
"You have a body that has seen life... You have lived, and you bear the traces of it..." He slid down your jeans and made you sit down on the bed, only to kneel in front of you, his fingers tracing the striae on your thighs, the marks you tried to hide from everyone. Elijah touching them felt stangely intimate.
"Do you honestly believe I would be turned off by the marks of life? I have lived, Y/N. Even though my body might not show it, I have my own scars. I have my limitations. Your body, even though most designers would foolishly decide it is not worth taking into account is beautiful. It is who you are, and you should be proud to be its owner. I know I am proud to be your lover..."
You swallowed. Whatever you had expected, it wasn't this... it was almost a hymn, celebrating who you were, a celebration of your body, the body you had learned to hate. The body he showed you was worth loving. A tear rolled out of your eye, something Elijah saw and was quick to wipe away. You could just look at him.
"Is that really how you see me?" It was an angle you had never even considered. All you knew was the negativity you got because of how you looked. Never, never before had someone been able to make so clear how he perceived you as beautiful. Never before had someone managed to make you believe it, but Elijah... He nodded.
"And if I have been negligent in telling you that, that is entirely my fault. I could not imagine you were struggling that much with it, my love..." You shrugged.
"That's probably because I never told you." He chuckled.
"Like I said, I do have my limitations..." You started to laugh.
"If this is how you make up for them, I think I can live with them." The smirk on Elijah's face was not open for several interpretations, and when he started to loosen his tie, you knew you were right in thinking what would come next. He stood up, hanging his tie over the rack before hanging his jacket next to it and starting to unbutton his shirt.
"Oh, but I've barely begun to make it up to you."