My head was spinning wildly, and I felt my stomach churn with nausea. Dead? No, he couldn’t be, could he? Although my mind raced, one part was focused and was pulling me towards the woods. The urge was too strong for me to resist, so I grabbed my jacket from its place by the door and left.
I didn’t even think about where my body was taking me, but I knew that it would lead me to Elijah. During my trek through the trees, I thought about all of the things that I never got to tell him; the things that I was too scared to say for fear of rejection and pain.
My feet stopped in a small clearing, as if they were telling me that I had to do some work myself, so I took a deep breath and thought only of Elijah. I felt silly, but soon an image of an abandoned cabin appeared in my mind. I ran in the direction that I was drawn to, not stopping despite the burning in my lungs and the aching in my limbs.
The cabin was grey with age, and the door disintegrated a little as I pushed it open, so that my hand was covered in grey dust. It was dark inside the sparse house, despite the cold sunshine outside, and a terrible sense of foreboding hit me like a tonne of bricks.
“Elijah?” I called, praying that he would answer. An aching silence answered me. I wandered through the house and found a pack of matches to light a lamp with, as it was too dark to see clearly. I slowly entered the bedroom and gasped, dropping the lamp. I re-lit it with shaking hands so that it took multiple tries to light the oil.
I closed my eyes once the lamp was lit, to prepare myself for the worst. I inhaled through my nose so that I concentrated on the decaying wood and burning oil. I had told myself not to cry, but once I opened my eyes they stung with tears that spilled onto my face. Elijah lay on the floor, with a dagger in his chest. I stepped closer and saw that his skin was an unnatural shade of grey, with black veins that were clear against the light skin.
Sobbing uncontrollably, I felt my knees buckle and I fell to the ground. I gasped for air, but it was painful to my quivering, aching chest. I stoked his soft hair and I knew that he was dead. The dagger looked ugly in him, a contrast to his beauty, so I took it out and threw it across the room in anger. I heard it hit something that sounded like glass. I left his side to investigate and found a vial of white powder. I stared at it, with tears still streaming down my face, and realised that it was supposed to be paired with the dagger.
I was so absorbed by my sorrow and the terrible dagger, that when I felt movement behind me, I screamed. Elijah was contorted in agony and he gasped for air like a drowning man as his face slowly returned to a normal colour. He looked at me, confused and bewildered.
“Oh my God. Elijah?” I said, my hand covering my mouth in shock. I moved them away a little. “How on Earth..?”
“Abrielle...” He whispered, his hand came up to my face and caressed it. A sob escaped me, and he slowly got up, the pain and effort showed on his face, then he put his arms around me. “Thank you.” He murmured, holding me tightly and burying his face in my shoulder. “I am so happy to see you.” He told me, but suddenly and quickly pulled away, retreating to the other side of the room quickly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, wiping my face. It slowly dawned on me. “You need blood.” I said and he nodded, looking at me and probably wondering how I knew.
“I have some at home.” He told me. I nodded, not really wanting to think about it.
“Go.” I told him. “I’ll catch up.” He left within seconds. I took the dagger and the vial, not wanting to leave it where anyone could find it, and I ran all the way home.
When I reached my house, I sprinted up the stairs to his room and opened the door, forgetting to knock. Elijah was sitting on his bed. His eyes were closed but he looked much stronger. He opened his eyes to look at me, and smiled.
“Do not be frightened of me, Abrielle. I would never hurt you.” He told me. I shook my head.
“I’m not scared. Just confused.” I said truthfully. I knew that I was staring at him, but couldn’t stop. “You were...” I started.
“Dead? You are correct; I was.” He said, finishing my sentence. I took a deep breath to steady myself.
“A vampire. Yes, I am one of the Originals.”
“Whatever that is...” I muttered.
“Do you want me to explain?” Elijah asked quietly, and I shook my head.
“No, I don’t. Do you know why?” He looked at me. “Because I don’t care, ‘Lijah. I am just so unbelievably happy that you are alive!” I told him, walking closer. Fresh tears came, as much as I didn’t want them to. I made a sobbing noise, and my voice was thick with emotion. “I thought that I had lost you, and that would have been horrible... because I love you.” He looked stunned for a moment, then stood up and put his arms around me.
“Oh Abrielle...” He sighed. The sound of my name in his voice never failed to make my heart sing.
“I’m so sorry.” I murmured into his shoulder and inhaling his scent like it was oxygen.
“Don’t be.” He told me, then lifted my chin with his hand so that we were looking into each other’s eyes. “Because I love you too.” He whispered. Before I could process those beautiful words, his lips were on mine in a passionate, heart-stopping kiss.