A winter chill had crept into the air, marking the end of October and welcoming in the start of November. You were walking home from a shift at the Mystic Grill, earphones in and your mind was reeling with too much to neatly process. The Mikaelson ball had only been days ago, and your brief appearance alongside your friends had solidified that the entire Original family had settled in your town.

A brief nose interrupted the noise cancellation of your ear phones, and you paused—the swivel of your head showed nothing, but then you found yourself bumping into a solid body.

“Sorry, little witch.” He said, grinning—his voice rang familiar in your ears and you froze, eyebrows furrowing. “I should’ve been looking where I was going. Though, I can’t complain about bumping into a pretty girl, late at night—especially when she’s all alone.”

It was Kol Mikaelson. One of the Original vampires you’d been warned to stay away from.