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Rory didn't awake to the chirping of birds or the bright rays of the sun shining through her curtains. It was more like sweat-drenched nightmares and the image of blood seared behind her eyelids. She automatically went to feel her bump, the physical touch reminding her that her baby was alive, that they were both okay.
The residual feeling of panic from her nightmares faded to peace—which was quickly interrupted by the bickering of Hayley and Rebekah outside her room, the exchange being what had awoken her so early in the first place.
"You, go make her a right and proper breakfast—my niece needs all her nutrients!"
"It wouldn't kill you to ask nicely!"
"If I wanted a second opinion, I would've asked for one—now, be a good little dog and fetch her a meal."
The rustling sounds of Rory's blanket being moved as she sat up to get out of bed caught the attention of the Original standing outside the room. Rebekah swung open the door with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?"
Rory raised her brow, "Getting out of bed, duh," she replied. The Originals were quite intrusive and controlling she had learned over her month long confinement. No wonder no one liked them. Even Josh, Klaus' lackey, was always muttering about walking into the sunlight and ending it, once and for all.
"Hey, you need to rest!" the Original ordered her sternly. "Wolf girl is making you breakfast, so lie back down!" she ordered, until Rory begrudgingly then promptly smiled brightly as if she hadn't just reprimanded Rory. "Do you need more blankets?"
"No, I'm good," Rory shook her head. It was early summer in humid, sweltering Louisiana heat. Even with the newly installed, high-tech air conditioning, Rory wore loose-dresses and shorts and tank tops. But it's not like she had a choice given Klaus had bought her wardrobe.
Rebekah let out a little huff.
The pregnant girl rolled her eyes. "I promise I'm fine, Bex," she insisted as the blonde readjusted her blanket and pillows on her behalf.
"You almost died," Rebekah raised her brows.
Rory shrugged nonchalantly.
"Well, you look all fresh and rested," Rebekah said dryly, not believing a word as she observed Rory's heavy eyebags and pale sheen.
"Humans tend not to look their best first thing in the morning, especially one's with morning sickness," Rory grumbled, determined to ignore her omnipresent nausea. She crossed her arms, raising her brows at the Original, "I didn't take you as the fussing type, Rebekah."
