𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞 ⟪♥︎⟫ Elijah Mikaelson

XV

The city of New Orleans was daunting, all its parties, music and spectacles could be quite overwhelming. Even for the Parisians whom had been used to living in a big city. With terrible jetlags, the three of them walked through the streets of the festive American city.

Jacques' hands were trembling as his worries got the better of him, turning to Daniel and Natalie he spat, 'I don't even know where to begin! I have no idea where he could be.'

'You said he was powerful, perhaps people know of him,' Daniel reasoned, 'we could ask around?'

Jacques nodded, 'Yeah, of course... I should've thought of that.'

Natalie rolled her eyes and approached a woman selling all kinds of trinkets on the streets, 'Hello, we're looking for a man. Usually wears a suit, terrible asshole in my personal opinion. His name is Elijah... Elijah Mason? Morgan? Markle- Jacques, what was it again?'

'Mikaelson.'

The woman's eyes widened, staggering a few steps back as her hands wound around the necklace she was wearing. 'If I were you, I wouldn't go anywhere near the Mikaelsons.'

'Yes, well I wouldn't be asking for him if I didn't need to talk to him,' Natalie told her, annoyance lacing her words.

The woman grabbed Natalie's hand, 'The Mikaelsons are treacherous, cruel and have sinned so many times it would put the devil to shame.'

'Just tell us where he is,' Daniel reasoned, 'I didn't travel all the way from France to get told to fuck off in another language.'

The woman sighed, her eyes looking at the three of them as if wanting to say that they could go tag along to hell with the Mikaelsons, 'You will find him in the Mikaelson compound, it's in the French Quarter, impossible to miss.'

'Thank you,' Jacques muttered, more in annoyance than actual gratitude, as he stomped away. Only to be stopped by Daniel's hand clamped around his shirt, Jacques looked at him in confusion. But Daniel merely waved with the map he carried in his hands and pointed in the opposite way of which Jacques had been heading.

His fists balled in frustration as he followed Daniel and Natalie, his mind anywhere but the streets of New Orleans at this moment. His mind was still somewhere in Paris, or perhaps just wherever Leah was at the moment. He regretted never telling her how grateful he was for everything she'd done for him.

His chest heavy, painful as he breathed, and his eyes pricked when he thought of the endless possibilities. The endless possibilities of things that could be happening to her right now. Perhaps he should've told her, that he loved her, at least once more. Or maybe he should've called her mom, he didn't really know why he hadn't. Sometimes he wondered wether it was because he believed to be too old to call anyone mother. Having lived his entire life without one, he never met another that could be called by a title so heartfelt as that.