MEMORIES ▷ KOL MIKAELSON [1] [COMPLETED]

𝟏𝟐. 𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏

(CHAPTER TWELVE :
TAG TEAM TRIP)

✧࿐ ཾ✧

DENVER, COLORADO WAS A decent distance away from New Orleans, Louisiana to my relief. Definitely, the Big Easy had shaken me the wrong way because it seemed to be full of strange characters like that little brunette and the King. Or, maybe it was just the solemn vibe that I couldn't evade as I walked down Bourbon Street. Death lingered there, more so than Mystic Falls. As a supernatural beacon, to coin such a term, I decided that I wouldn't return to the city under less than extraordinary circumstances. I was in Denver now, that was all that mattered.

Thankfully, the drive was a reflective one. It gave me the opportunity to cool down and think over my life in Mystic Falls. When I set off, I told myself that Denver would be my final stop before returning home and I was no longer certain of that. During the drive, I was thinking about the places I visited and realised how little I truly seen. Mainly, I never explored out of America when I always wanted to. Zürich, Verona, Marseille — beautiful, rich places were available to me and yet I had been restricted for so long. Mystic Falls could never be permanent anyway, I had already been there two years and I only had another four or five before people would begin to wonder why I still appeared seventeen. Inevitably, I had begun to wonder if it was time, time to start a new life again.

✧࿐ ཾ✧

Unenthusiastically, a woman sat behind a desk and tapped her long fingers against the keyboard. "Here are your keys. Enjoy your stay." She droned, the monotone made me curious as to how many times she had to say that a day. In my opinion, it couldn't have been a lot because the motel was shabby — who would believe Denver was popular this time of year and most hotels were busy?

When I said the motel was shabby, I was sugarcoating the severity of the place. With wallpaper my grandma would have turned her nose at, I noted how the floral pattern was chipping off the wall and messy pen scrawl adorned the undersides. Beige furniture had long since tinted brown, the stench of cigarette smoke and vanilla embedded into the fabric and the air as a whole. To my misfortune, the strange combination was magnified by my special senses. Simply, it was dreadful. There was no plausible way anybody would actually choose to stay here unless it was their only option, as it was in my case. If it wasn't as late as it were, I would have marched out of the motel to compel better accommodation.

For the time being, I was exhausted and didn't have the energy to complain further, instead opting to collapse onto my bed. Of course, fate had another plan, one that involved an old friend and two new ones. Just as I forced the silver key into the lock of my designated room, I found myself doing a double take when I spotted the familiar faces of Elena, Damon and Jeremy. Instantly, I plotted to take refuge behind the nearest wall until they dispersed — not wanting to face the trio and be forced back to Mystic Falls — but the supernatural member had already heard my shuffling feet. Luck really was not on my side.