The Salvatore Sister

Chapter Fourteen

After accidentally overhearing the life story of the Mikaelson family, Arabella seems to have a newfound respect for all of them. How they had managed to survive so many years under the attention of their grueling father, the werewolf will never understand. It wasn't Originals' fault that they had become monsters. It was their parents.

It is that reason that Arabella finds herself at Rebekah's bedroom door. Hesitating by the doorway, Arabella lifts an arm to knock. Doubts begin to circulate through the poor wolf's mind as she stares at the wooden door. Rebekah hates her. She would much rather see her dead than listen to her idea of getting ready for Homecoming together. This dance is both of their first dance.

Before she can completely lose her nerve, Arabella forces herself to bang on the door. Seconds later, the Original vampire is opening it with a impassive look on her face. The blonde lifts an eyebrow at the wolf, who is knotting her fingers together nervously. "Yes?" She asks impatiently.

Releasing a short breath, Arabella stares straight into Rebekah's eyes. "Would you like to get ready for Homecoming together?" The werewolf questions. Her eyes widen when she thinks about how forward that sounded. "You don't have to, of course, it's completely optional. I was just thinking that since this is our first time going to a dance—" She drifts off, unsure where she is going with this conversation.

Rebekah watches as the wolf stumbles over her words as she considers the offer. Had circumstances been much different for the two of them, Arabella and the vampire might have been friends. Best friends, in fact. Arabella's spunk seems to bring light to the room, and she is almost as stubborn as Rebekah. As a human, Rebekah would have very much liked Arabella.

It is for that reason that she opens the door for the werewolf. "Instead of stuttering like a fool, why don't you just come in?" Turning her back on Arabella, Rebekah walks towards the closet that she is borrowing.

Arabella slowly gazes around the room, unsure of what to start with first. "Should I do your hair or your make up?"

Facing the werewolf with her red dress, Rebekah lifts a defined blonde eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that you learned how to do makeup after spending a century without it?"

A breathy laugh leaves the young immortal's lips. "I've known how to do hair and makeup long before that," she responds with a grin. "Back in 1864, I wanted to make a career out of it. My father would have none of those silly ideas floating around his household." Her smile falls when she remembers the way Giuseppe Salvatore reacted when Arabella had proposed the idea to him. He nearly tore the house up in his anger, arguing how she is supposed to be a lady and that ladies don't have jobs. "It was a very different time, then."

Understanding what it's like to have a suffocating and sexist father, Rebekah doesn't respond with her pity or anger. Instead, she sits in on of her chairs and closes her eyes. "Alright, let's see what you've got."

Spending only an hour on the original's hair and makeup, Arabella gives the Original a look that others would kill for. A large smile spreads across the werewolf's face as she hands Rebekah a mirror. "Ta da!" Arabella exclaims.

Grabbing the mirror in shock, Rebekah stares long and hard at her reflection. A small smile blooms across the woman's face. "Thank you," she responds kindly. With vampire speed and strength, Rebekah forces Arabella to switch spots with her. "It's your turn now."

Arabella shakes her head as Rebekah lifts the makeup pallet. "You don't have to—"

Giving the wolf a tight smile, Rebekah raises her eyebrows. "Of course I do. We're getting ready together, remember?"

Instead of forming a response, Arabella closes her eyes. The Original vampire uses feather light strokes as she applies the makeup. "Your father was wrong, you know," Rebekah murmurs. "You are way too talented not to get a career in makeup."