everflaming:
his words are purely honest, she knows that. Well, perhaps they’re a touch off. If he was being absolutely honest with her he would tell her that he isn’t happy, he can’t be happy. Not when he’s looking at his past when he’s supposed to be looking at his present. Only New Orleans isn’t truly his past, is it? It’ll always be his constant. The kingdom that was, the crown that slipped from his hands as easily as it had landed there.
There’s a feeling of fear that echoes just underneath the surface. A fear that he’ll end up resenting her since he had lost his city because he had chosen to come and be with her, to take Hope with her and away from the throttle of the Hollow that has caught them all in their web. Will he ever forgive her or her family for taking him with them all over again? This mess has ruined everything and Rebekah isn’t sure if Marcel will ever recover again.
She wonders that sometimes when they’re alone. When the two of them are laying together and she watches him sleeping. The night time whispering its shadows across his features. She reaches her hand out, fingertips whispering over the side of his face, over his brow and sometimes she feels distanced. She tries to look for differences in the way he kisses her, the way he touches her. Years upon years lets you know someone and she believes that she knows Marcel and his inner pieces. But she worried about asking him, what his answer might be. So she resolves to letting things happen, staying beside him and hoping that this moment in time they’ve captured for one another.
Reaching out towards him she settles her hand on his arm, fingers brushing a caress slowly along his skin as she holds his eyes. “ Trying works. ” she agrees, taking down a hard swallow of nerves. “ But after everything, Marcel - you don’t have to stay. ” He doesn’t have to. Is he staying because he wants to or he feels he has to after all the time they’ve lost?
after everything? he felt this strange tug inside of him, something that tells him this is his chance to go. that he can leave. run out. that he could do whatever he wanted. that he could go back to his city and leave all this behind. the mikaelsons as far as anyone knew were gone for good from that place. and he could run it as long as he could, he could make it great again. it’d be even better than those five years. it’d be like before the originals ever came back.
and he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t miss the city. that he didn’t miss running things, taking control. sometimes he’d call josh to hear how things were back there. new orleans had always been his home. it run deep in his veins. and he knew he couldn’t quite get it out of himself. but there was something in rebekah’s eyes, something almost asking him. she needed him to stay. her and hope both did.
he can’t tell her he’s staying without regrets. even if he might. he will regret it. he’ll tell her that he loves her, this is where he wants to be. but it’s a half way there lie. and he feels bad about it. he feels like he owes her more. he knows he does. after all this warring, all this fighting.
“i’m staying, rebekah.” he says, reaching his hand out to lightly take hold of her hand. a gentle press. he smiles a little. he does a good job at convincing because he means it. of course he does. but not entirely. it’s a broken edged promise. he only ever wanted a few things in his life. new orleans and rebekah were always on the list. and yet he never could see them apart. “it’s where i have to be. where else would i go?”














