𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐁𝐘, 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐱 𝐭𝐯𝐝

- ²² IN WHICH KOL IS GREAT AT DRAWING SMILEY FACES

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* chapter twenty two ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

❛ the one in which kol is great at drawing smiley faces. ❜

HE HEARD HER BEFORE HE SAW HER.

Klaus knew the moment Rebekah had offered to invite Hope around for a sleepover that it would be the best night of his life so far. The second she accepted, he was sure that the coldness of his heart had warmed just an inch, and his lips twitched up high enough to earn himself a fond comment from Hayley. He had been sitting on the edge of his stool in his painting room with an empty easel and untouched paints all day, waiting to hear the familiar scruff of the car pulling up into the drive, hardly able to contain his excitement.

So he knew when Hope had arrived. Her soft voice echoed through the large house, resonating her awe at the grandness of every design, and the fact she hesitated in the door for that brief moment ( a brief moment Klaus had picked up on promptly and with a frown ) made him vow to make sure she never felt unwelcomed. Not in his home. Not anywhere.

Klaus had decided to give her some time with Rebekah and Kol. For the former, the relationship with her niece was a vital thing that she wanted so desperately, simply because she couldn't have children of her own and wanted to help raise Hope. For the latter, Kol, being with Hope meant being in touch with his younger, childish self that had never had the chance to mature before being thrust into immortality and expected to be an adult. Klaus knew he hated the responsibility placed on his shoulders at such a young age, so to see him so carefree with Hope made his heart swell.

It felt as though the family was coming back together.

He heard as she spoke to Freya. Her voice was always kind, always curious and patient and inquisitive and caring and attentive; all qualities he knew she got from Hayley. She listened to every single word Freya had to say and contemplated her responses so Freya would feel understood, and bit by bit, he felt his wrist start to sketch out the inklings of a face with bright blue eyes and a youthful expression, untainted with wounds and the scars of an immortal adulthood.

When she bumped into Elijah, down came the brown curls of her hair, framing her innocence and the ghost of a bright smile bled into the easel, and he chuckled as she gasped at the library; a library he would now have filled to the brim with fantasy and romance books of her era, so she could indulge in whatever she so desired. There was a knowledge that Elijah was trying to understand her, which Klaus couldn't blame him for: as much as he wanted to raise Hope and hug her until she never questioned his affection, he knew nothing about having a child, unfortunate when he realised he had a fifteen year old.

Rebekah soon settled her down in the living room, and they set up camp for an hour and a half. The stench of disinfectant wafted from room to room and Klaus found himself tempted to close the door, but the upbeat tone of Hope and Kol toying with one another and the exasperation of Rebekah's sigh made him stand near the door. The urge to join them, to just sit there and witness his daughter spend time with her family, was too much.

Eventually, when the clock rang seven and he decided that any normal person would consider dinner, he exited his painting room, leaving the drying picture of his daughter hung in the centre of the room. It wasn't perfect, no, because nothing could be as perfect as the teenage girl guffawing two floors below, but it encapsulated a shadow of her gentle beauty.