you and i go hard at each other like we’re going to war.
you and i go rough, we keep throwing things and slamming
the doors. you and i get so damn dysfunctional - you and i
get sick, i know we can’t do this anymore.(so i cross my heart and hope to die, i’ll
only stay with you one more night.)
It’s ever so darling that you believe there is actually going to be a wedding.
Interesting suggestion, however, ripping her heart out - literally and figuratively - is much more fun.
Nineteen, love.
bite hard, well it’s a broken smile; breaking
their hearts and breaking their minds.
Faye had long since gotten used to the stench of burning flesh, the burning in her throat that came from inhaling too much smoke. She’d spent so much time playing with fire over the years, it didn’t really bother her much. Granted, the smell was still incredibly foul, but she was used to it. Her eyes didn’t water, nor did she find herself wanting to cough up a lung because of it. None of it bothered her in the slightest. What did bother her was finding herself pressed up against the car by the very person she was hoping to escape as soon as possible. Of course she was the slightest bit unsettled by it, but the things Kol did really didn’t surprise her anymore. With an annoyed sigh, she glared up at him, twisting her wrists in his hold as she tried to avoid dropping the bottles of wine she was planning on sharing with Quinn and Katherine later.
“Let’s start with your first questions.” Faye spit out, eyes narrowed as she avoided shifting too much; she was never one to shy away from sex, but it didn’t change the fact that Faye was every bit uncomfortable being close to Kol in general, so having him pressed up against her was making her skin crawl. “As much as I was enjoying it, and as cozy it may be, it’s just not for me. As for waiting for the man of the house,” Faye’s eyes flashed dangerously as she looked up at him and spat, “I’m not a whore.” She didn’t know why she said it; it wasn’t like he would care what she said, he would still think whatever he wanted of her. Still, she was tired of being called a whore. She was positive she’d slept with a lot less people than most would have expected her to, especially for a vampire who could have easily had her way with just about anybody if she really wanted to, much like Katherine had.
Shifting a bit, Faye pressed herself back against the car in an attempt to get a little farther away from Kol - not that she could actually do much; he had her in an iron grip. Considering his last question, Faye managed a small shrug, as close to nonchalant as she could get while wanting to rip her hair out from being so damn close to him, “I don’t know,” she seethed, “But I’m sure you’d just love to enlighten me on how you see it happening. Though, I’m pretty sure you’d prefer giving a demonstration.” She was getting reckless, talking the way she was. She was supposed to stay quiet, supposed to make sure she got through this bullshit escapade with him alive and hopefully never have to deal with him again. But he was so damn infuriating, and it was getting that much harder for her to hold her tongue when it seemed he was constantly baiting her with his snarky remarks and insults. “Why?” she found herself asking, her heart pounding in her chest as the anger coursed through her, “Are you going to kill me, Kol?”
The house was burning fiercely now. Kol could hear every snap, every charred piece of flooring and furniture as it shriveled and popped. He wondered how long it would be before, whether through the house’s own security or through diligent neighbors, a firetruck would arrive. He smirked at the thought. That was all they needed - fortunately, emergency vehicles had sirens that worked like warnings. They could arrive to find Faye’s body, presumably the arsonist-cum-murderess passed out from smoke inhalation. Or else maybe they would consider her dead - he was sure that her coming back to life in the morgue or the police department, depending on what ended up happening, would be a cause for some rather interesting, extravagant massacres. It might be worth it to leave her here just to see her work her way out whichever situation she got herself caught up into. At least, he hoped so. Faye was not turning out to be as - well. As fun as he’d hoped. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she would turn to compulsion when put in a situation like a jail cell or strapped to a gurney.
I’m not a whore. How easily the lie fell from Faye’s lips. Kol trailed a finger over the low-cut neckline of the scrap of cloth excuse of a dress she’d thought it so wise to put on, simpering. It was a move as intimate as it was dangerous; he could feel her heart beating under his touch, could imagine pushing his fingers through flesh and muscle and bone until he could forcibly still her heart. “I’m sure you’re not,” he said, taking the tone of a parent who was humoring their young child. “You’re just misunderstood, right?” he taunted, watching her closely for even the smallest flicker of a response. She was angry - he knew that much, and it wasn’t surprising. He hadn’t known Faye long, but he already knew to expect a temper from her; it took very little to get under her skin, and Kol was already practiced at exploiting that. “And insecure, and lonely, and sad,” he continued, cocking his head as he considered her. “You’re just a lost little girl, aren’t you?” he asked, eyes flashing with amusement and disgust. He didn’t blame the elder Salvatores - well, he sort of did, as they changed Faye, and she was horribly unpleasant, and who would want that around for the unforeseeable future? But leaving her. That, he understood.
His eyes dilated as she questioned how he could kill her. He’d been alive for a long time - long enough that he’d sampled and invented and followed through on every way there was to kill someone. But Kol was an innovator. Always moving forward when it came to creative deaths. And yet - he still had some favorites. There was no denying that he preferred the classics. “I could have you walk back inside and sit down, burn alongside the missus,” he said, voice low and gravelly, “Or I could tear you apart, give a piece of you to all of your nearest and dearests.” He could have gone on, but Faye still had more questions, and Kol raised a brow as he reached out and tapped Faye on the tip of her nose. “I could, couldn’t I?” he mused. “So, so easily.” Part of him was tempted to do it, too. Rid himself of her ignorance and bother. But - “But no,” he said, saccharine. “I’m not quite done playing with you, little Salvatore.” And he stepped back, reaching past Faye’s hip to tug the door open despite the way she was still leaning against it.
(Source: kolmikalson)
Faye held her smirk as she watched him walk away, only dropping it when he was out of her line of sight, her hands coming up to rest on either side of her head as she let out a heavy sigh; being around Kol was frustrating, tiring, infuriating - basically every kind of ‘-ing’ she could think of. Hearing him make his way through the house, Faye couldn’t help praying that he would just leave. She didn’t care if she was left here without a drive back into town, she’d call Katherine or Quinn to drive her back to the motel so she could pick up her car. She just didn’t think she could stand another moment near Kol’s sadistic ass.
Looking down at the corpse on the ground, Faye focused on the sound of his movements, losing track of him as he stepped towards the foyer; something she wasn’t sure was a good or a bad thing. He could have stopped moving there, or he could have left and though she was desperately hoping she’d be rid of him soon, she couldn’t help feeling that it wouldn’t be that easy. So, she resigned herself to bending down and lifting the woman’s body and tossing her over her shoulder. “Upsy daisy~” Faye mumbled, being careful not to get anymore blood on her clothing as she made her way back towards the living room, where she set her down on the ground. “Now, how should we get rid of you?” Faye mused, looking around the house and even looking through a pair of glass double doors into the backyard. She imagined it would be easy just to burn the body and bury the remains in the backyard, but that didn’t sound the slightest bit fun.
After a few more minutes of thinking, Faye lifted the woman’s body again and set it down on the sofa. Once that was done with Faye moved into the kitchen and began looking through the drawers and cabinets until she found a small tin can of lighter fluid and a beautiful silver zippo with a black crow painted on the front. “Oh look, a keepsake.” she murmured, a smile slipping onto her lips as she walked back into the living room, where she began drenching the woman and sofa in the lighter fluid. When she’d emptied out the tin can, Faye tossed it into the fireplace and flicked the zippo on, watching the flame flicker about as she walked over to the woman. “You had such pretty hair… Oh well.” Faye sighed, bending down and setting her hair aflame. Stepping back as she slipped the lighter into her jacket pocket, Faye watched with a smirk as the flame traveled quickly, engulfing the woman and the sofa entirely. Turning on her heel, Faye slipped back into the kitchen one more time, grabbing two more bottles of wine from the fridge before making her way through the foyer and out the front door, expecting to find Kol’s car gone, much like its owner. Unfortunately, it was still there and she forced herself not to groan aloud. “Changed my mind about the house, Mikaelson. Where’d you disappear off to?” she called out, silently hoping that he wouldn’t pop up and she’d have an excuse to leave the premises without him.
The scent of burning hair filled the air. Or maybe it didn’t, and it was just Kol’s heightened abilities that had him skirting back around the side of the house from where he’d been taking a look at the gardens spread out around it. Just like the house, they’d been nothing spectacular. Just as the toxic scent of burning flesh began to mingle with the smell of the burning hair, smoothing the furrowed brow that Kol wore as he walked slowly through the quaint kitchen garden into a smirk, he realized what Faye had done and heard Faye calling for him - where’d you disappear off to? she wanted to know, and Kol tilted his head, all faux-curiosity. He sped to appear in front of Faye in a blur, stepping between her and the car. “Why?” he asked, ignoring her question. His gaze dropped to Faye’s updated attire again, and he raised a brow as he met her gaze again, smirking more fully now, even as he tried to keep his eyes wide an innocuous. He doubted it worked very well. Innocence wasn’t in the Mikaelson blood. “I thought you’d been enjoying it. I thought you were eagerly awaiting the appearance of the gentleman of the household?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before he turned and looped around to the passenger’s side of the car to hold the door open for Faye. He could hear something different now - there was still the sound of burning, bubbling, melting flesh, but something different, too; he knew that if he looked back at the house, he would see smoke - real smoke, not the acidic stuff that accompanied lonely burning bodies - starting to form as the fire spread, accelerated by all of the gasoline Faye had put down, to the floor and the walls and that beautiful, beautiful piano. He nodded towards the door that he now held open, wordlessly telling Faye to get in - wine bottles and all, which he’d just noticed. Faye Salvatore was revealing herself to be a drunk. Lovely. It must be another of the unfavorable Salvatore traits. He didn’t shake his head, his face remaining as stony - but amused - and impassive as ever, but he did look upon Faye’s relationship with her brothers with a rather amused, confused draw. Of course, one could argue that he didn’t know the story - she loved her brothers, for some inane, pathetic reason that made Kol’s skin feel too tight all over. He couldn’t imagine having that sort of love for someone. He tried to picture Klaus and Elijah and Bekah, hands clasped, promising forever and always. It did nothing but cause a curl of bone-deep annoyance in his stomach, something dark and dangerous that had his synapses firing even faster than before.
Faye. He focused in on her with eyes dark with id and free-will. Her heartbeat was replacing that of the woman who they’d killed not even ten minutes before, whose burnt scent had become even more acidic. They were vampires, and more sensitive to those things - they should be getting in the car and driving off, searching for another home to tour, if that’s what they were calling it, with Faye drowning whatever pathetic attachment she felt to her brothers in the bottles of wine that she’d grabbed on her way out. Priorities, he thought with a sneer, barking out a laugh that came out more like a growl. It shouldn’t have surprised Faye when he sped to her, forcing her up against the car with his body, forcing the air from out behind of them. He locked his hands around her wrists and held them at her sides. “And how will you die, Faye Salvatore?” he asked, tilting his head curiously, eyes narrowing playfully.
(Source: kolmikalson)
Yeah well, I guess I’m willing to take the risks. I just want Quinn back for good.
How darling of you. Unfortunately, your incompetence and foolishness will leave you dead before you even get close to her. But by all means, make the attempt - I’m sure it will be quite the show.
I don’t plan on going catatonic like my friends Mikaelson.
And I’m sure they did. Accidents do happen, Rachel, and for what it’s worth - I haven’t heard the most laudatory things about your supposed power.
Just some witchy business.
Fascinating. How long until you’re catatonic like your friends?
