{1.04 | Hope is Not the Goal | part 2}
Elara Davenport--no, Laurent--Â stared at Penelope Park as if she had just grown a second set of eyes.
"Hold on, you're saying my name is not Elara Davenport?"
Penelope nodded, rolling her eyes. "I just said that. Were you not listening?"
Elara shook her head. "No, no, I was. It's just- oh, my god."Â She grabbed onto Penelope's wrist firmly and dragged her into the space between the bookshelves.
Davenport wasn't her name. Her whole life, she had gone as a Davenport thinking that the name belonged to her parents, yet nearly twelve years after their deaths, she learned she had been lied to.
And she could read other languages.
What the hell was going on?
"Wow, I didn't realize that was a big deal."
"Oh, it is," Elara muttered, tapping her fingers on the book in her hand. Laurent. Her last name was Laurent, and she had no idea what that meant. She took a deep breath. "Penelope, are you certain?"
"Absolutely. I saw it with my own eyes."
"Where did you see it?"
Penelope clicked her tongue. "A witch never reveals her secrets. If I told you, how else would I be able to convince you to help me?"
Elara bit back a snarky comment. The witch always had a way of getting under people's skin, especially when she disliked them. Elara met her when Penelope started dating Josie. Initially, the two hit it off, easily bantering back and forth, but when Penelope dumped Josie, Elara sided with the twin. She knew Penelope to lie, yet she wasn't lying about this. Penelope's heartbeat proved that. Elara needed to know whatever Penelope knew. Everything that she knew.
After a pause, the blonde spoke softly, "and there's more you'll tell me if I help you?"
"Mhm," Penelope hummed, placing her hands behind her back. "I'll tell you everything I know and how to find out more."
Hopefully this wouldn't come back to bite her in the butt. "Deal." Elara extended her hand.
Penelope smirked, shaking it. "Pleasure doing business with you, Wolfie."
~-~-~
As the sun just finished setting, the blonde werewolf paced back and forth on the dock The rest of the day had gone by quickly as Elara lost herself to her thoughts, avoiding the people at the school.
"Laurent, Laurent." She picked up a rock and tossed it as far as she could into the water. She turned to a tree, slamming her fist into as hard as she could, and it made a resounding crack as bark jetted from the split wood. "What?!"
It wasn't anger she felt but frustration.
Nothing made sense, anymore. When she thought she was human, she wasn't. Instead, she was an untriggered werewolf. Then, she triggered her curse and couldn't even remember how. Nightmares tormented her every single night without a break. Just when things started to make sense and become normal, a boy named Landon appeared and suddenly her ears started ringing, and she tried to protect a stupid gargoyle knife without knowing she was. Then, gaps in her memory started appearing. Then, she could read other languages when she could barely read English. Then--
Then she found out the name she had come to know wasn't her own. Cedric and Emilia Davenport weren't real. Hell, were they her actual parents?
She dropped to a sitting position with her legs dangling over the edge. Her hands made quick work of her tie, yanking the thing off. Before they died, people would tell her how much she looked like them, so did they just change their last name? Were they wanted criminals? Were they in witness protection?
What?
"Hey," a familiar voice rang out.
Elara kept her head trained on the water, raising her free hand to wipe away her unshed tears. Clearing her throat, she responded, "hey."
"This seat taken?" Landon asked as he stood next to her, looking down at her. Elara said nothing, simply gesturing for him to sit down. "How was your day?"
"Eventful," Elara answered vaguely. Landon didn't need to know about her newfound lineage or her sudden literacy skills. "Spent most of the day researching, and I learned that as much as I like the Salvatore Library, I really, really hate reading."
"Honestly, that sounds better than looking for a giant spider."
Her nose scrunched in disgust. "Gross, it was a spider?"
Landon nodded. "Wore Connor's face and everything."
She turned her head, her hair falling to the side as she looked at Landon. Reading people was one of her best skills, and reading Landon was incredibly easy. He was expressive, emotional. He wore his heart on his sleeve.
And so did Felix.
"How was hunting the monster?" she asked, attempting to shift the spotlight onto him.
"Not good," he answered shortly, picking up a rock to toss it into the water.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Do you trust me, Elara?" he asked suddenly, turning to lock eyes with her. There was sadness in his.
Elara paused, taking a moment to think. Yes, Landon had stolen the knife. Yes, he lied about it. But he hadn't meant to take it. He lied to protect himself, and Elara understood how that felt better than anyone.
"I think I could," she answered honestly. Her fingers twirled the fabric of her tie as she spoke. "I don't really trust anyone, though, but..." she paused, taking a deep breath," ...you have potential."
"Why? No one else does. In fact, Hope made it very clear that I don't belong here. That I can't be trusted."
She ran her free hand through her hair. "Hope's been through a lot, far more than anyone ever should. It's hard for her to trust. As for me..." she trailed off.
A small, sad-- genuine-- smile appeared on her face. Landon hadn't done anything to gain her trust, and he hadn't done much to her specifically to break it, either. Her heart wanted her to trust him, to believe him. Keep the walls up, her mind screamed at her. Keep them up--
Saying one thing wouldn't hurt, right?
"You remind me of someone I cared about. He, uh, meant the world to me." A look of realization passed over his face, and Elara quickly raised a hand to stop him from speaking. "Ew, not that way! I'm a raging homosexual. Emphasis on raging."
"He was my brother. Foster brother, technically," she continued. "But that didn't matter. He was my family. He was my Rafael."
Crying was not something that Elara did, especially in front of others. She was an expert at holding it together, but their conversation pushed her to her limits. She hadn't talked about Felix aloud to anyone. Not even Emma.
Elara lowered her head, watching the rippling waves below reflect the moonlight. "My point is you remind me of him, like I'm pretty sure the two of you would be good friends. Anyways, you seem genuine, you seem good, and with time, I'd trust you."
Landon smiled lightly at that, his appreciation clearly on his sleeve. She wanted to be open with Landon, and she was, even though her mind disagreed.
"Anyways, I feel like I've talked about myself way too much, and unless we change the subject, I'm going to start crying," she spat out. "What are you thinking?"
"That I really want to stay here," he answered, picking up another rock. "This place, the people-" he tossed the rock then looked at her again "-it's all I've wanted: a place to be a part of, but all day, everyone has been pushing me back and acting like I'm the bad guy. I wanted to spend time with Hope."
Elara nodded along, scratching the back of her neck. Listening to someone talk about their feelings was not her expertise, but she wanted to try. Landon did it for her. She owed it to him.
"I like her, a lot, and I want her to trust me. But I don't know how to gain her trust. How do you do it?"
She had to bite back a laugh. "Hope doesn't trust me. In fact, you know more about me than she does-- I think. Unless Dr. Saltzman told her about Felix. Either way, Hope and I have a complicated relationship, but I do understand girls. Give her time."
At the faint sound of footsteps, she looked back over her shoulder. "Speaking of..." she trailed off. Hope walked towards them, her hands in front as she fidgeted with her fingers.
Elara turned her head back to Landon, her expression steeled. She placed a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she rose to her feet. Briefly, she tapped it.
"I'll leave you two to talk." Quietly at the end, she added, "good luck."
Her footsteps were quiet as she walked away from Landon towards Hope. Her expression was easy to read even in the moonlight, her concern and sadness plastered across it. Elara didn't even need to ask.
She heard Elara's confession.
"Elara--" Hope began, but the blonde stopped her.
Her emotions were rising fast, a cascade of feeling ready to crash against her walls. Not now, not now.
"We'll talk later, yeah?" Elara said. She continued to walk, brushing past Hope even though there was plenty of space to walk around her.
It wasn't until she got to her room that she finally let her tears fall.
~-~-~
Elara didn't have to wait long. She sat on her bed, staring at the faint rays of silver that came through the window as her mind wandered. In her hand sat a crumbled photo.
The door creaked open as Hope pushed it. She stepped inside, closing it behind her. She could see the faint tear streaks along Elara's cheeks. It wasn't her first time seeing the girl cry, and just like the time before, she felt a tug in her heart. Truly, she didn't know what Elara went through. Elara hadn't told her, nor did she think Elara was ever going to tell her.
Elara had been right in assuming that Hope didn't know about Felix. She had asked Alaric how Elara triggered her curse, but the headmaster didn't budge, insisting that Elara would tell her. She knew better than to push although it was something important for her to know.
Elara blinked, shifting her gaze from the floor to Hope. Hope appeared as upset as she felt.
"Sit," she said, patting the spot next to her. Hesitantly, Hope did, placing herself right next to the blonde. Their sides were clearly drawn the moment Elara moved in, and Hope hadn't dared cross into Elara's.
"This," Elara started. "Is--Was Felix Sykes. My foster brother." She held out the photo for Hope to see. In it was two people: Elara and a teenage boy. The boy had Elara in a headlock, his lean arms wrapped around her. His hair was dark and short. His skin was tanned, and he appeared to be an inch or two shorter than Elara. Elara was laughing in the photo, her smile bright and wide.
Hope couldn't help but notice how dim Elara's smile had become.
"Why are you showing me this?"
Elara took a deep breath. "You want us to start over, right? So, let me start differently."
"He was a year younger than me, but that didn't stop him from trying to protect me. We were in Charleston, taking a night off to celebrate. His soccer team had just won a big game, basically sending them straight to the state finals. We were downtown, and we took a wrong turn." Elara inhaled shakily, and Hope instinctively reached out, placing a gentle hand on her knee. The werewolf visibly relaxed, raising a hand to push her hair out of her face. "It was dark. A guy appeared out of nowhere, and next thing I know, Felix is on the ground, in my arms, covered in blood."
Tears were falling, again, but this time Elara didn't stop them. Hope did, brushing her thumb across Elara's freckled cheek as the rest of her hand gently cupped Elara's jaw. The touch sent a shock through the werewolf, but she didn't show a reaction.
Elara's lip twitched upwards as if to show her appreciation. "My hands were covered, my clothes were covered, and it wasn't my blood but his. All of it was. The guy was gone, and Felix was dying-" her voice cracked. She tightened her hold on the photo. "I couldn't save him. I couldn't protect him. I-I killed him."
"Elara, it wasn't your fault," Hope said softly.
"It was," Elara insisted. She lifted her head, her teary eyes meeting Hope's. "If it wasn't, my curse wouldn't have been triggered. Our foster parents blamed me, everyone I knew blamed me, and they were right. It was my decision to go down the alleyway. I was the big sister, and it was my job to protect him. His blood was all over my hands. I failed him, Hope. "
Hope blinked, silence falling between the two. She hated seeing Elara vulnerable, and she knew Elara hated showing it.
"Please, say something," she heard Elara mumble.
But what could she say?
Instead, she said nothing. She wrapped her arms around Elara, pulling the werewolf into as comforting a hug as she can manage. Elara tensed, initially, but quickly she relaxed, returning the hug.
They sat in silence for a while, both lost in their heads. Each thinking about the walls that surrounded their hearts, guarding them as if nothing could get past, and both of them came to a realization, unaware that the other did as well.
Maybe, just maybe, the roommate would be the one to break down those walls completely.
[a.n. double update?? it was somewhat rushed, but I'm happy with it. I've learned that listening to sad songs while writing sad dialogue really helps :)
~NYM]