Enigmatic Returns: A Klaus Mikaelson Love Story {2}

Chapter 2: Wine and Fine Dining

A/N: Don't forget to comment and vote! X
I had waited for Hayley to finish showering, sleep and wake up, I had even fed her. It was about bloody time she had started talking. I sat across her from the table where she sat like an animal, her feet resting on the table.

"You're rested, you're fed, you're clean. Now tell me what you know about Katerina." She took a sip from her glass before looking up at me.

"Most men get their power kicks from torturing and intimidating people. You like drinks and fine dining. Why?" She obviously wasn't on the same page as me.

"Someone once taught me that being hospitable goes a long way over being unpleasant. However, I am prone to changing my mind on a whim. So tell me where Katerina is?" I snapped, slamming my hands on the table to prove that I was serious about what I was saying.

"You really think I know?" She said rolling her eyes, she was getting too big for her britches.

"You tipped her off to the cure, she asked my wife for help which got her to where she is now, and in return she sent someone to kill you. What did she promise you?"

"First off." She said taking her feet off the table and sitting properly. "I didn't tip Katherine off to the cure. Your wife did. All I did was give her some info that would make it easier to find."

Fiore was the one that had told Katerina about the cure. Why would she have done that? Was she angry at me at the time? How was she still in contact her? This was one of the times where I would need one of my wife's dream sequence reveals.

"Okay, my mistake. Either way, she promised you something—what was it?" She stared at me and put her glass down, leaning forward towards me.

"I was in New Orleans looking for my real family, Katherine said she would help." She was abandoned. Just when I thought club membership was at full capacity.

"That does explain your charming bravado." I said raising my eyebrow. "Desertion strikes again."

"Sounds like you know a lot about it." She said eyeing me carefully.

"Listen Hayley." I said mimicking her position. "If I wanted to be psycho analysed, I wouldn't go to someone like you. I'm happy to protect you, after all I'm the only one that can. But I'm only going to do so if you stop playing your petulant games and cooperate."

"Hm" Hayley got up from the table, taking her wine glass with her. She walked into the room where I kept my paintings and felt it necessary to give her opinions. "Hate this one, hate this one, hate this one. Ugh." She said as she looked at the painting of Blossom and I on her birthday. "This one grosses me out especially."

"I wouldn't" I sneered.

"Oh I'm sorry, you and wifey on a trip?" She said chuckling to herself. "This one though. This one doesn't make me wanna puke completely." She looked at one of my older paintings, one of my favourites in fact. It was a painting of a dark figure silhouetted by a fading sky and standing beside a barren tree.

"Why'd you paint it?" She asked me.

"Painting is a metaphor for control. Every choice I make is mine." I slowly walked towards her to admire my work. "The canvas I choose; the colours I use. As a child I never had a sense of the world, or my place in it, but art taught me one's vision can be achieved by force of will. The same is true of life, provided one refuses to let anything stand in their way."

She sniggered and started to smile at me, before leaning up to whisper in my air. Much too close for comfort.

"So is this how you do it? Show a girl some semi-decent paintings and whine about your childhood secrets? And I suppose this is where I swoon and spill all my dirty secrets?" She said giggling.