Birds Of A Feather || N. Mikaelson

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- Slowly Rewriting 03/21/2023 -

❝Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad.❞
― Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

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A thin, leggy blonde leaned against the window sill, her gray eyes watching the brooding stormy skies outside. Her manicured nails pressing on the wood as she watched with a soft, lost look on her face. She appeared to be deep in thought.

Rain hit and pounded at the glass, running down it in silver streaks. It left trails of water droplets and the lighting cast her face in dappled shadows. She wasn't fully aware of her surroundings, her thoughts were lost in another time . . . another century.

She could feel eyes on her, pinned onto her back and the feeling of being watched swallowed her up, straining to steal away her thoughts. Tilting her head, her blonde ponytail fell down her spine, the golden color looking muted in the dreary afternoon light.

"Stop staring," she murmured, a tiny smile splitting her lips. "It's creepy," she added as an after thought, gray blue eyes not moving from where they stared out the window. The landscape was hilly and green, with towering mountains that overlooked the valley. Pine trees rolled down the hills towards a cut in the center of the valley where a gray river threaded through. In the distance, fields and farms rolled out, their crops looking faded and pale. Fog swallowed up anything beyond that.

A tall and fit brunet stepped towards the window, his green eyes focused on the side of her head. He was broad and muscular, and wore a tight-fitting t-shirt as if to prove that further. His arms were folded over his stomach and he had a curious, yet worried look storming over his handsome face. "You're going to go, aren't you, Roxanne?"

She turned and forced a wide smile. "I have to. Luke needs the danger assessed and . . . and I'm the only one who can do that safely." She tilted her chin up, looking directly in his eyes. "It'll be fine, Bailey."

Bailey sighed and looked over at the wall with framed photos of her and him and his sister. Of their pack. Of Luke and Roxanne. "The last time . . . it ended in heartbreak. I can't watch that happen again, Rox." He studied her, reaching his hands out gently to hold hers. "I know you'll go regardless, but, please be careful, kiddo."

She sighed and turned, pulling her hands carefully from his as she paced across the living room. "I should learn by now, shouldn't I? After . . . after a thousand years, you'd think I'd learn." She sighed and settled down on the couch and crossed her legs. "I don't know what it is, it's that damn family."

Bailey followed her and crouched in front of her, his green eyes soft. "Roxanne, you are the strongest person I've ever met. You know what's best for you, you always have. Don't worry, just assess the dangers and come right back home, okay?"

She smiled and leaned forward, their foreheads resting against each other. "Okay."

"I mean, let's be honest," he cracked a smile, cupping her jaw gently. "We should be more worried about unleashing you on Mystic Falls than anything else." Roxanne laughed, her blue-gray eyes shutting.

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A short, muscled red-head paced Roxanne's bedroom. Her fingers knotting in her hair and her green eyes were wide and anxious.

"Natalie! Seriously, I can already see where the groove is going to be, just sit down," Roxanne teased, looking at her second best friend. Her other close companion who she had spent nigh on a century with. Roxanne stood up, moving towards the girl to stop her pacing.