ððð ðððð, ðððð
ðð«ð¢ðð¥ð¥ð ð¬ðð ð¨ð§ ðð¡ð ðð¨ð®ðð¡, ð¡ð®ð ð ð¢ð§ð ð¡ðð« ð¥ðð ð¬ ðð¨ ð¡ðð« ðð¡ðð¬ð ðð¬ ðð¥ð¨ð¬ð ðð¬ ð¬ð¡ð ðð¨ð®ð¥ð. ðð ð°ðð¬ ð¬ð¨ð¦ð ð¬ð¨ð«ð ð¨ð ðð¨ð¦ðð¨ð«ð ðð¨ ð¡ðð«. ðð¡ð ð°ðð§ððð ðð¨ ð°ð¢ðð¡ðð« ðð°ðð² ð¨ð§ ðð¡ð ðð¨ð®ðð¡ ðð§ð ðð¨ð«ð ðð ððð¨ð®ð ðð¡ð ð°ð¨ð«ð¥ð.
ðð®ð ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ð¢ð§ð¬ð¢ð¬ððð ð¬ð¡ð ð§ððððð ðð¨ ð ðð ð®ð© ðð§ð 'ð§ð¢ð¤ð¦ ðµð©ð¦ ð¸ð°ð³ðð¥' ð¡ð ð¬ðð¢ð ð¢ð ð¦ð¨ð«ð ð©ð¨ððð¢ð, ðð®ð ðð¡ðð ð°ðð¬ ðð¡ð ð¬ð®ð¦ð¦ðð«ð² ð¨ð ð¡ð¢ð¬ ð¬ð©ðððð¡, ð¡ð'ð ð ð¢ð¯ð ð¡ðð« ðð¯ðð«ð²ðð¢ð¦ð ð¬ð¡ð ð«ððð®ð¬ðð ðð¨ ð ðð ð®ð© ðð«ð¨ð¦ ðð¡ð ðð¨ð®ðð¡.
ðð ð¡ðð ðð¥ð«ðððð² ðððð§ ðð°ð¨ ð¦ð¨ð§ðð¡ð¬? ðð¨, ðð¡ð«ðð ð¨ð« ðð¨ð®ð«, ð¬ð¡ð ðð¢ðð§'ð ð¤ð§ð¨ð°, ðð¢ð¦ð ð°ðð¬ ð§ð¨ð ð ðð¡ð¢ð§ð ðð¨ ð¡ðð« ðð ðð¡ð ð¦ð¨ð¦ðð§ð. ðð¡ð ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ð ð¥ðð² ð¢ð§ ð¡ðð« ððð ð°ð¢ðð¡ ð¡ðð« ðð²ð ð¦ðð¬ð¤ ð¨ð§ ð£ð®ð¬ð ðð¨ ð©ð«ðððð§ð ðð¡ðð ð¬ð¡ð ð°ðð¬ ðð¥ð¬ððð©.
ðð¯ðð«ð²ððð² ð°ðð¬ ðð¡ð ð¬ðð¦ð, ð¬ð¡ð'ð ð°ðð¤ð ð®ð©, ð°ð¡ðð§ðð¯ðð«, ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ð ð¢ð§ð¬ð¢ð¬ð ð¬ð¡ð ðððð¬ ðð«ððð¤ððð¬ð, ð¬ð¨ð¦ððð¢ð¦ðð¬ ð¬ð¡ð ðð¢ð, ð¬ð¨ð¦ððð¢ð¦ðð¬ ð¬ð¡ð ðð¢ðð§'ð, ð¬ð¡ð ð¬ðð ð¨ð§ ðð¡ð ðð¨ð®ðð¡, ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ð ðð¬ð¤ ðð¨ ððð¥ð¤, ð¬ð¡ð ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ðð§'ð ð¬ðð² ð ð°ð¨ð«ð ðð§ð ðð¡ðð§ ð¬ð¡ð'ð ððð¤ð ð ð§ðð© ð®ð§ðð¢ð¥ ðð¡ð ð§ð¢ð ð¡ðð¦ðð«ðð¬ ð°ð¨ð¤ð ð¡ðð« ð®ð© ðð§ð ðð¡ðð§ ð¬ð¡ð'ð ð£ð®ð¬ð ð°ðð¢ð.
ððð²ðð ð¬ð¡ð ð°ðð¢ððð ðð¨ð« ð¬ð¨ð¦ððð¡ð¢ð§ð ðð¨ ð¦ðð ð¢ððð¥ð¥ð² ðð®ð«ð ð¡ðð« ð¦ð¢ð§ð, ð¬ð¨ð¦ððð¡ð¢ð§ð ðð¡ðð ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ð ð§ð®ð¦ð ðð¡ð ð©ðð¢ð§, ð¬ð¨ð¦ððð¡ð¢ð§ð ðð¡ðð ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ð ð¬ðð¨ð© ðð¡ð ð§ð¢ð ð¡ðð¦ðð«ðð¬, ðð§ð²ðð¡ð¢ð§ð ðððð®ðð¥ð¥ð², ðð®ð ð¬ð¡ð ð£ð®ð¬ð ð°ðð§ððð ðð¡ð¢ð§ð ð¬ ðð¨ ð ð¨ ðððð¤ ðð¨ ð¡ð¨ð° ðð¡ðð² ð°ðð«ð ðððð¨ð«ð ðð¯ðð«ð²ðð¡ð¢ð§ð ð¡ðð©ð©ðð§ðð.
"ðð°ð¸ ð¢ð³ð¦ ðºð°ð¶, ðµð°ð¥ð¢ðº?" ðð¡ð ððð¢ð¥ð² ðªð®ðð¬ðð¢ð¨ð§ ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ðð¬ð¤ðð. ðð¯ðð§ ð¢ð ð¬ð¡ð ðð¢ðð§'ð ðð§ð¬ð°ðð«, ð¡ð'ð ð¬ðð¢ð¥ð¥ ðð¬ð¤. ð ðð¨ð®ð©ð¥ð ð¦ð¨ð¦ðð§ðð¬ ð¨ð ð¬ð¢ð¥ðð§ðð ð©ðð¬ð¬ðð. ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ð ð¨ð ð®ð© ðð§ð ð¬ððð«ððð ðð¨ ð°ðð¥ð¤ ðð°ðð² ðð®ð ðð®ð«ð§ðð ðððð¤ ðð«ð¨ð®ð§ð ð°ð¡ðð§ ð¬ð¡ð ð¬ð©ð¨ð¤ð.
"ð'ð® ð´ð¤ð¢ð³ð¦ð¥." ð¬ð¡ð ð¦ð®ð¦ðð¥ðð. ðð ð°ðð¬ ð¬ð¨ ðªð®ð¢ðð, ð£ð®ð¬ð ð¥ð¢ð¤ð ðð¡ð ð§ð¢ð ð¡ð ðð¡ðð² ð¦ðð, ð¡ð ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ð'ð¯ð ð¦ð¢ð¬ð¬ðð ð¢ð ð¢ð ð¢ð ð°ðð¬ð§'ð ðð¨ð« ð¡ð¢ð¬ ð¬ð®ð©ðð«ð§ððð®ð«ðð¥ ð¡ððð«ð¢ð§ð .
ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ð¬ðð ðððð¤ ðð¨ð°ð§ ð¢ð§ ðð¡ð ðð¨ðððð ðððð¥ð ð¢ð§ ðð«ð¨ð§ð ð¨ð ð¡ðð«, "ðð° ð°ð¯ð¦'ð´ ð¨ð°ðªð¯ð¨ ðµð° ð©ð¶ð³ðµ ðºð°ð¶ ð¢ð¨ð¢ðªð¯." ð¡ð ðð¬ð¬ð®ð«ðð, "ð ð¨ðªð·ð¦ ðºð°ð¶ ð®ðº ð¸ð°ð³ð¥."
ðð«ð¢ðð¥ð¥ð ð¥ð¨ð¨ð¤ðð ð®ð© ðð ð¡ð¢ð¦ ð°ð¢ðð¡ ðððð«ð¬ ðð¢ð¥ð¥ð¢ð§ð ð¡ðð« ðð²ðð¬, "ðð°ð¸ ð¥ð° ðºð°ð¶ ð¬ð¯ð°ð¸ ðµð©ð¢ðµ?"
ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡'ð¬ ðððð ð¬ð¨ðððð§ðð, "ðð¦ð¤ð¢ð¶ð´ð¦ ð'ðð ð¢ðð¸ð¢ðºð´ ð£ð¦ ðµð©ð¦ð³ð¦ ðµð° ð±ð³ð°ðµð¦ð¤ðµ ðºð°ð¶, ð¢ð¯ð¥ ð ð¸ðªðð ð¯ð¦ð·ð¦ð³ ðð¦ðµ ð¢ð¯ðºð°ð¯ð¦ ðµð°ð¶ð¤ð© ðºð°ð¶."
ðð«ð¢ðð¥ð¥ð ð¬ððð«ððð ð¬ð¨ððð¢ð§ð ð¦ðð¤ð¢ð§ð ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ð¬ð¢ð ðð² ð¡ðð« ðð§ð ðð¨ð¦ðð¨ð«ð ð¡ðð«, "ðð©ð¦ðº ð¸ð¦ð³ð¦ ð³ðªð¨ð©ðµ, ð'ð® ð¢ ð®ð°ð¯ð´ðµð¦ð³." ð¬ð¡ð ð¬ð¨ðððð.
ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ðð¡ð¨ð®ð ð¡ð ðððð¤ ð¨ð§ ðð¥ðð®ð¬. ðð¨ð° ð¡ð¢ð¬ ðððð¡ðð« ð¬ð¨ ðªð®ð¢ðð¤ð¥ð² ððð¥ð¥ðð ð¡ð¢ð¦ ðð§ ððð¨ð¦ð¢ð§ððð¢ð¨ð§ ððððð« ðð¡ð ðð«ð®ðð¡ ððð¨ð®ð ð°ð¡ðð ð¡ð ð°ðð¬ ððð¦ð ð¨ð®ð, ðð§ð ð¡ð¨ð° ð¡ð ð¡ðððð ð¡ð¢ð¦ ð¬ð¨ ð¦ð®ðð¡ ðððð¨ð«ðð¡ðð§ð. ðð ð¡ðð ðððð§ ð«ðð¦ð¢ð§ððð ð¨ð ð¡ð¢ð¬ ðð«ð¨ðð¡ðð« ðð¡ð ð§ð¢ð ð¡ð ð¡ð ð¦ðð ðð«ð¢ðð¥ð¥ð.
ðð¡ðð² ðð¨ðð¡ ð¡ðð ðð¡ð ð¬ðð¦ð ð¥ð¨ð¨ð¤ ð¢ð§ ðð¡ðð¢ð« ðð²ð ð°ð¡ðð§ ðð¡ðð² ðð®ð«ð§ðð, ðððð«. ðð¨ð ð¡ðð©ð©ð¢ð§ðð¬ð¬ ð¡ð'ð ð¬ððð§ ð¢ð§ ð°ð¨ð¥ð¯ðð¬ ð¨ð¯ðð« ðð¡ð ð²ððð«ð¬, ð§ð¨ð ð«ðð¥ð¢ðð, ð£ð®ð¬ð ð©ð®ð«ð ðððð«.
ð ð«ð¨ð¦ ðð¡ðð ð¦ð¨ð¦ðð§ð ð¡ð ð¤ð§ðð° ð¡ð ð¡ðð ðð¨ ð¡ðð¥ð© ðð«ð¢ðð¥ð¥ð ðð¡ð ð°ðð² ð¡ð ð¬ð¡ð¨ð®ð¥ð'ð¯ð ð¡ðð¥ð©ðð ð¡ð¢ð¬ ðð«ð¨ðð¡ðð«.
"ð ð°ð¶ ð¢ð³ð¦ ð¯ð°ðµ ð¢ ð®ð°ð¯ð´ðµð¦ð³, ðð³ðªð¦ððð¦." ð¡ð ððð§ð¢ðð ð¬ð¨ððð¥ð², "ð ð°ð¶ ð¢ð³ð¦ ð¢ ðºð°ð¶ð¯ð¨ ð¨ðªð³ð ð¸ð©ð° ð¸ð¢ð´ ðµð°ð³ðµð¶ð³ð¦ð¥ ð¢ð¯ð¥ ðºð°ð¶ ð¥ðªð¥ ð¸ð©ð¢ðµ ðºð°ð¶ ð©ð¢ð¥ ðµð° ð¥ð° ðµð° ð¦ð´ð¤ð¢ð±ð¦. ðð¶ðµ ðºð°ð¶ ð¢ð³ð¦ ð¯ð°ðµ ð¢ ð®ð°ð¯ð´ðµð¦ð³, ðºð°ð¶ ð¢ð³ð¦ ð¢ ð¸ð¢ð³ð³ðªð°ð³."
ðð«ð¢ðð¥ð¥ð ðð¨ð§ðð¢ð§ð®ðð ðð¨ ð¬ð¨ð, ð¬ð¡ðð¤ð¢ð§ð ð¡ðð« ð¡ððð ð¢ð§ ð©ð«ð¨ððð¬ð ðð¨ ð¡ð¢ð¬ ð°ð¨ð«ðð¬, ð¦ð®ð¦ðð¥ð¢ð§ð , 'ð¯ð° ðª'ð® ð¯ð°ðµ.' ð¨ð¯ðð« ðð§ð ð¨ð¯ðð« ðð ðð¢ð§.
"ð ð¦ð´! ð ð¦ð´, ðºð°ð¶ ð¢ð³ð¦." ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ð¬ðð¢ð ðð¢ð«ð¦ð¥ð², "ðð¯ð¥ ðªð§ ðºð°ð¶ ð¥ð°ð¯'ðµ ð£ð¦ððªð¦ð·ð¦ ð®ð¦, ð ð¸ðªðð ðµð¦ðð ðºð°ð¶ ð¦ð·ð¦ð³ðºð¥ð¢ðº ð¶ð¯ðµðªð ðºð°ð¶ ð£ð¦ððªð¦ð·ð¦ ðªðµ."
ðð«ð¢ðð¥ð¥ð ð¥ð¨ð¨ð¤ðð ð®ð© ðð ð¡ð¢ð¦ ð°ð¢ðð¡ ðððð«ð¬ ð¬ðð¢ð¥ð¥ ð¬ðð«ððð¦ð¢ð§ð ðð¨ð°ð§ ð¡ðð« ðððð, "ðð©ð¢ð¯ð¬ ðºð°ð¶."
ðð¥ð¢ð£ðð¡ ð¬ð¦ð¢ð¥ðð, "ð ð¨ðªð·ð¦ ðºð°ð¶ ð®ðº ð¸ð°ð³ð¥ ðµð©ð¢ðµ ð¯ð° ð°ð¯ð¦ ð¸ðªðð ð¦ð·ð¦ð³ ðµð°ð¶ð¤ð© ð¢ ð©ð¢ðªð³ ð°ð¯ ðºð°ð¶ð³ ð©ð¦ð¢ð¥, ð´ð° ðð°ð¯ð¨ ð¢ð´ ð ð¢ð® ð¢ððªð·ð¦." ð¡ð ð©ð«ð¨ð¦ð¢ð¬ðð.
ðð«ð¢ðð¥ð¥ð ð¡ð®ð ð ðð ð¡ð¢ð¦ ðð§ð ðð¨ð§ðð¢ð§ð®ðð ðð¨ ð¬ð¨ð. ððð²ðð ðð¡ð¢ð¬ ð°ðð¬ ð ð¬ððð© ðð¨ð°ðð«ðð¬ ðð¡ð ð«ð¢ð ð¡ð ðð¢ð«ðððð¢ð¨ð§, ð¦ðð²ðð ð¬ð¡ð ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ð ð¬ð¥ð¨ð°ð¥ð² ð¬ððð«ð ð ðððð¢ð§ð ð¡ðð« ð¥ð¢ðð ðððð¤ ðð§ð ð¬ð¡ð ð°ð¨ð®ð¥ð ðð ððð¥ð ðð¨ ð¥ð¨ð¨ð¤ ð¨ð®ðð¬ð¢ðð ðð¨ð« ð¦ð¨ð«ð ðð¡ðð§ ð ð¦ð¢ð§ð®ððð¬ ð°ð¢ðð¡ð¨ð®ð ððð¢ð§ð ððð«ðð¢ð.
ðð§ð ð¦ðð²ðð ð¢ð ð°ðð¬ ðð«ð®ð¥ð² ð ð¨ð¢ð§ð ðð¨ ð°ð¨ð«ð¤ ð¨ð®ð.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ððððððð, ððððððð
Arielle went the whole car ride in silence until her curiosity got the best of her, "Why do you need these hybrids so bad?"
Klaus ignored her so she spoke again, "Hello? Is your old age finally catching up? Or are you just ignoring me- Wait! Are you ignoring me? Because if so, then that is very rude and-"
"Bloody hell!" Klaus exclaimed.
Arielle smirked. She had learned the best way to get Klaus to speak after he's ignoring you is to talk on and on about anything. It worked 90% of the time, which is a pretty good success rate.
"So?" Arielle asked.
"It's nothing you should care about." he said.
Arielle groaned, "Come on! I've spent this entire summer with you, hearing you ramble about stupid things and now you won't tell me the one thing I ð¢ð¤ðµð¶ð¢ðððº want to hear about?"
Klaus rolled his eyes, he still wasn't budging making Arielle annoyed, "Are you seriously not talking?" she asked, he stayed silent, "I hope you that when you're walking happily one day you fall down a ditch and break all your bones and you accidentally stab yourself with white oak so close to your heart that you feel like you're dying." she looked out the window after finishing her words.
"And I'm bloody insane?" he muttered.
"Shut up." Arielle said not bothering to look back at him.
"I thought you wanted me to speak?" he questioned innocently.
"If you're going to talk about what I asked you then yes." she said finally looking at him.
"Hmm, I don't think I want to talk about my reasonings with someone who's constantly being rude to me?"
"Oh my God!" she groaned, "You are actually infuriating."
"And you still came back when I gave you a chance to leave." he reminded.
Arielle opened her mouth to say something but them clamped it shut realizing he made a point, "Shut up." she grumpled.
Klaus let out a small laugh and the car was filled with silence once again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Klaus and Arielle arrived at Gloria's bar and Arielle thought it was way too quiet for anyone to be there. She looked around and something was definitely off.
"Are you sure she didn't up and leave?" she whispered to Klaus.
Klaus shushed her and started walking further into the bar. Arielle scoffed as he walked away. She made her way behind the bar as Klaus kept inspecting the bar. She started making mojitos or mimosas she couldn't remember what the ingredients were for what.
"Does a mojito have tequila?" she asked Klaus as he walked closer to the bar.
"She left!" he said, clearly annoyed.
Arielle looked up at him, "So, does a mojito have tequila or not? I need an answer or else this'll taste like shit." she told him, ignoring whatever he was complaining about now.
"Did you hear what I said?"
"Something about Gloria, I don't know." she answered, taking out ingredients that were definitely not for a mojito.
"Can you pay attention?" he asked.
Arielle looked at him with a 'ð´ð¦ð³ðªð°ð¶ð´ððº?' look, "Can ðºð°ð¶ pay attention to ð®ð¦?" she contradicted, "I mean I've asked you two simple questions and I still haven't had an answer."
Klaus sighed and sat down on a bar stool, "What do you-"
"Sex on the Beach." Arielle interrupted.
"What?" Klaus asked confused.
"That's what I'm going to make, a sex on the beach." she said, "Want one?"
"Sure." he replied hesitantly.
Arielle smiled and started mixing ingredients, "So being a bartender also includes being a therapist, so go ahead, talk." she told him.
Klaus looked at her confused and went to say something but Arielle spoke before him, "Did you know that I met Elijah when I was 17 and now I'm 19. Also I'm a year older than Caroline but we're in the same grade, but that's a story for another time." she said taking out two cups from under the bar.
"I hate Bill, my adoptive father, he's literally such a fucking asshole, and I also hate Damon Salvawhore, like he's a damn creep. And I honestly hated Stefan but after spending a whole summer with him, I don't think he's so bad. He can actually be funny. And I honestly feel like he's better without Elena, may she rest in peace, and his brother. They were both constantly on him for something, you know?" she rambled.
"Anyways, I know, I'm always sharing my opinions but that's because my therapist said I should always speak my mind, but you should've seen me at the lowest point in my life I was literally mute. But anyways, I think you should open up to people, you know, talk to someone. It does wonders."
She gave him his drink with a smile, "Tell me how it is."
Klaus looked at her and then at the drink, he hesitantly took a sip. He set it down on the bar with a disgusted look on his face, "What the bloody hell is that?"
"A Mojito on the Beach." she answered simply, "I wanted to improvise, have an artistic take and all that."
"Well maybe don't try that again. That drink is bloody awful." he exclaimed, "Pass me that." he said pointing to a bourbon bottle.
"Ugh, you have no taste." she complained. She grabbed the bourbon bottle, opened it and took a long sip of it, "This taste cheap." she said in disgust.
Klaus sighed and got up from the bar, "Let's go." he told her.
"Wait, let me get drunk." she told him
Klaus watched as she downed a tequila bottle like it was nothing. And then a beer bottle, she grabbed a vodka bottle and went to drink it but Klaus took it away from her.
"I think you've had enough." he told her.
Arielle tried to grab it from him but he was much taller then her so it was no use. She then grabbed a bottle of alcohol and smashed it over his head, grabbing the vodka before it hit the ground.
She chugged it as fast as she could until Klaus pulled it away from her, "What is your problem?" he asked.
"Just give it, it doesn't affect you anyways." she yelled.
But Klaus didn't budge, so Arielle punched him straight in the nose and then snapoed his neck with her bare hands.
She grabbed a new tequila bottle from the bar and started chugging. And then a new one, and a new one, until she passed out.
~~~
Klaus woke up with a sharp pain in his neck due to Arielle. He looked over and saw she was passed out on the bar, like literally passed out, on the bar.
He walked over to her and noticed mascara smeared on ther cheeks, she must've been crying, he thought. He looked around and saw the bottles of alcohol laying around, he didn't understand why she suddenly was such an alcohol lover.
He grabbed some napkins and wiped her cheeks. He then picked her up and walked out of the bar. He set her down in passager side and reclined the seat all the way back so she could lay down.
He then made his way over to the drivers side and started driving away from the bar.
About fifteen minutes into the drive Arielle stirred awake, "I have a pounding headache." she groaned sitting up.
"Vodka and tequila will do that to you." Klaus murmured.
"Yeah, no shit." she rubbed her head, as if trying to soothe the headache, "Can you stop and get me aspirin and water?" she asked.
Instead of saying anything Klaus just kept driving, the girl sighed and layed back down. She only sat up when she noticed they came to a stop at a gas station.
"Thanks." she muttered to Klaus, seeing he was getting ready to step out of the car.
"Mhm." he hummed.
As he stepped out Arielle quickly added, "And a slushie with cheese fries." Klaus gave her a thumbs up making her smile.
A few moments later Klaus came back with a bag that had everything she needed. Arielle took the bag and muttered a 'ðµð©ð¢ð¯ð¬ ðºð°ð¶' before rummaging through the bag.
"Why'd you get three bottles of water?" she asked, holding them up.
Klaus shrugged, "Some people are picky." he said with a suggestive look, "I didn't know which one you'd like."
Arielle tried her best to hide her smile and went back to looking through the bag, which had her fries and asperin, but she noticed her slushie wasn't there.
"Can I go back in?" she asked, "I wanna get a slushie."
"There's only the raspberry one." he informed, making her squirm in disgust.
"Nevermind then." Klaus let out a small laugh and started driving away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arielle and Klaus walked into the warehouse and as soon as they entered Arielle could sense the tension was high.
"Gloria's gone. She cleared out. We need to find a new witch immediately." he informed them but stopped sensing the tension.
"What's going on?" he made it seem like he was asking both of them, but he only looked at Rebekah when he spoke.
"Something's wrong." Rebekah spoke quickly, "He was asking about Mikael." Both Klaus and Arielle tensed at hearing this, "He's not with us Nik, I can sense it."
"She's wrong, Klaus-" Stefan didn't get to finish his sentence, as Klaus rushed over to him and snapped his neck.
He then turned to Arielle, "What is he hiding?" he asked.
The girl shrugged, "We're not exactly besties, so, how would-"
"Arielle." Klaus yelled impatiently.
"Okay, okay, calm down or you'll get wrinkles." she joked, seeing Klaus' glare she guessed it wasn't a time to be joking, "Sorry."
"Arielle!" he yelled again, this time more impatient than the last.
"Elena's alive." she blurted out. She quickly covered her mouth with her own hands.
Klaus clenched his jaw and walked out of the warehouse. Arielle looked over at Rebekah who had an unreadable look on her face.
"You've known this whole time she was alive?" Rebekah asked, looking towards Stefan's limp body.
Arielle nodded, "Yeah."
The female Original took a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself, "Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because Elena is Carolines friend, and I wanted to protect my sister." she answered simply, "If Klaus found out he would've killed her and I couldn't put my mom through that."
"You know everything you say is always because of someone else, you never say that you're doing something for yourself."
"So?" Arielle asked.
"You should start putting more worth in yourself, you are a truly amazing person and I wouldn't want you to get burnt out by putting others before yourself."
"That's not true." Arielle denied, she was mostly trying to convince herself and Rebekah saw right through it.
She tilted her head to the side before asking, "Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Because it sounds like you're doing the last one." with that, she walked out leaving Arielle alone with Stefan's limp body.
Arielle knew what she was saying was true, half-true actually. Arielle was always putting others before herself, one other to be specific, Caroline.
And the fact that today was her one year anniversary being sober, and she didn't tell anyone proved that. Why? She had convinced herself it would damper everyone's day, so she stayed quiet and tried to hide her feelings getting drunk.
And the one time she put herself first Caroline died, so now she never wanted to put herself first ever again. Helping Caroline also helped her forget about how shitty her life actually is.
She was dropped off at an adoption center when she was just a baby. She was basically raised in foster care. She was ripped away from the first person she truly loved. She was tortured for weeks. She went through rehab multiple times and the amount of unecessary guilt she carried.
When helping Caroline, her problems go to the back of her mind. She doesn't think about them. So without giving Rebekah's words anymore thought she wiped the tear that was starting to fall and walked out of the warehouse.
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ðð¡ð¢ð¬ ðð¡ðð© ðð¨ð¨ð¤ ð¦ð ð¬ð¨ ð¥ð¨ð§ð ðð¨ ðð¢ð§ð¢ð¬ð¡ ðð§ð ð¢ ð¬ðð¢ð¥ð¥ ðððð¥ ð¥ð¢ð¤ð ð¢ðð¬ ððð ðð§ð ð¢ð'ð¬ ð¦ð¨ð¬ðð¥ð² ð¤ð¥ððð¥ð¥ð? ððð¤ ð¢ ð§ððð ð ð¬ð¡ð¢ð© ð§ðð¦ð ðð¨ð« ðð¡ðð¦.
ðð®ð ð®ð¦ð¦ð¦, ððð¤ðð¡'ð¬ ð°ð¨ð«ðð¬ ðð ðð¡ð ðð§ð ð¤ð¢ð§ðð ð¡ð¢ð ð¡ðð«ð, ð¥ð¢ð¤ð ð¬ð¡ð ð«ð¥ð¥ð² ð¬ð©ð¨ð¤ð ð¡ðð« ð¬ð¡ð¢ð, ð°ð¡ð¢ðð¡ ð°ðð¬ ððð% ðð«ð®ð
ðð¤ð¤ð¤ ðð²ð ð§ð¨ð°