Birds Of A Feather || N. Mikaelson

⊳⊳5⊲⊲

❝It's not our job to toughen our children up to face a cruel and heartless world. It's our job to raise children who will make the world a little less cruel and heartless.❞
—L.R. Knost

A/N

Big big chappy ahead of you, don't expect this all the time, I was feeling generous xx

⊳⊳|⊲⊲

Klaus exited his bedroom and moved slowly downstairs, still a little tired and perplexed by his dream. She was haunting his head. She was in his dreams, but that hadn't felt like a dream. 

He wandered into the kitchen, but paused as a scent filled his nose.

Spinning, the hybrid scowled at the sight of the blonde perched in a seat at the breakfast table. Her hair was braided and she was wearing black pajama pants and a sports bra. "Good morning, roomie," Roxanne smiled, tilting her head.

He growled in response, stalking up to her carefully and placed his hands on the table. "What are you doing in my house, love?"

He had been planning on killing her this afternoon, but it seemed those plans may have just been upped to right bloody now. His anger rolled over his muscles as he restrained himself from tearing her heart out of her chest. 

Roxanne laughed and tilted her head, rolling her eyes. "You haven't heard? Rebekah offered me a room here. We're roommates!" She smiled widely, her eyes bright and mischievous.

Klaus stared at her and pressed his lips firmly together. "That's not a bright idea. You've brought my family's wrath upon you by doing what you've done. You're moving into the lion's den." His head tilted, spitting each word out like venom. 

She raised an eyebrow and rose out of her seat, walking around him to the kitchen counter. "Awfully rude thing to say to someone that made you coffee, Niklaus," she remarked casually, grabbing the coffee pot and a mug, before pouring some in. The cream was already on the counter. A dash of cream and two sugars. How did she know?

Klaus watched her silently, his face tense and stern. "You're not living here."

She placed the mug on the island and crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter. "Really? Tell that to the bedroom upstairs with my things in it." Her eyes were wide and her eyebrows lifting. "You can't kick me out. I have your sister's permission and I already checked out of my hotel." She looked so goddamn cheeky, he wanted to cut that smile off her face and feed it to her. He wanted to tear out her intestines and wrap them around her beautiful throat. 

The hybrid gritted his teeth and walked to the counter, leaning against it on his palms. "I will drag you out by your ear, mortal." His fingers flexed and he spoke the words quietly and coldly, staring into her bright eyes. 

"I fucking dare you, hybrid," she replied in a hiss, gray eyes flashing.

A spark of respect flew through his chest but was quickly extinguished by his rising rage. "This is my house. I built it. I paid for it. I bought the land it sits on. Rebekah does not decide who stays here, I do. I built this for my family, which you are not. Leave now, St. Claire, before I tear your heart from your weak chest." His fingers twitched, itching to plunge into the warm, bloody mass of her chest and feel the familiar feeling of a heart beating in his fist before he yanked it out. He wanted to see her body fall to the floor, pale as she breathed her last breath. The quiet death rattle that would follow. 

She slowly walked around the counter, again, her chin tilted up and her gray eyes narrowed. She rested her index finger against his chest and smiled. "No. If you try, you will end up with every single bone in your body broken. Do not test me, Mikaelson." She had this wicked look on her stunning features, and she reminded him vaguely of some cross of a Disney princess and a Disney villain. Maybe a lovechild of the two. Her stunning, Rapunzel-type features mixed with her cold demeanor would usually be the type of thing he was attracted to. Sadly, she had eviscerated any of those thoughts with challenging him and his family and becoming a threat to them.