( it doesn't surprise him to hear kol didn't believe him. he was always so volatile, expected the worst, teeming with hatred and loathing and jealousies. forever marred, like them all, but with a unique bitter rage, from what they'd become. it doesn't surprise him and it doesn't comfort him either. he doesn't know what he feels: something not quite despair, not quite disappointment.
perhaps he's just tired of the same routine, the same viciousness, the same cycle of hurt and mistrust, denial and wrath.
he doesn't know, either, when it got so hard. he cannot pinpoint the moment, but he can guess at its origins: the night their father ran them through, forced blood down their throats, and took from them their innocence.
it's only at kol's last question that klaus looks up from the table, unable to abjure himself from the feeling and weight behind kol's words. that, perhaps, doesn't surprise him. but it does open him up, pull at his insides. his eyes are rounded, lips parting. he remembers how they used to play, chasing each other around the woods. he remembers how kol would imitate him, try to keep up, insert himself.
it should have been elijah. klaus was never strong enough, worthy enough, worth enough for that kind of idolatry.
breath shaking, he inhales, looks away, blinks back his tears. ) We've always said our family is cursed, but I don't believe that is so. ( calmed, he looks back. ) If the past few years have shown me anything, it's— ( he thinks of hope, of her small, beautiful face. her good heart. ) We're not incapable of change. Or love.
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perhaps he's just tired of the same routine, the same viciousness, the same cycle of hurt and mistrust, denial and wrath.
he doesn't know, either, when it got so hard. he cannot pinpoint the moment, but he can guess at its origins: the night their father ran them through, forced blood down their throats, and took from them their innocence.
it's only at kol's last question that klaus looks up from the table, unable to abjure himself from the feeling and weight behind kol's words. that, perhaps, doesn't surprise him. but it does open him up, pull at his insides. his eyes are rounded, lips parting. he remembers how they used to play, chasing each other around the woods. he remembers how kol would imitate him, try to keep up, insert himself.
it should have been elijah. klaus was never strong enough, worthy enough, worth enough for that kind of idolatry.
breath shaking, he inhales, looks away, blinks back his tears. ) We've always said our family is cursed, but I don't believe that is so. ( calmed, he looks back. ) If the past few years have shown me anything, it's— ( he thinks of hope, of her small, beautiful face. her good heart. ) We're not incapable of change. Or love.