Chapter Fourteen

The Noble Brother

Anya couldn't think straight, couldn't possibly comprehend what was happening. Kol overwhelmed her. His touch, his taste, his smell. It overwhelmed her. How much she had drank that night didn't help in the slightest. But Anya thought that most of it had to do with Kol. The alcohol just tore away her inhibitions. She felt out of control because of Kol.

He was so rough with her, she was surprised he hadn't broken her yet. Kol practically slammed her against the wall, and pressed himself up against her so tightly she couldn't breathe. His lips devoured her, his hands couldn't get enough of her. But instead of allowing herself to drown in the violent assault that was hooking up with Kol Mikaelson, she went along with it. She didn't fight it. She enjoyed it.

When Kol broke the kiss and instead moved his lips down to her neck and collar bone, Anya could finally breathe again. She inhaled deep breaths, heart hammering in her chest. The air was full of smoke and lust and recklessness. Bad decisions were being made left and right and people were so drunk their bad decisions seemed like perfectly good decisions. Anya was no exception to this. At that moment, all she could ever want was Kol.

Her fingers in his hair, Anya yanked Kol back up so she could crush her lips against his. He tasted like alcohol and smelled like sex. She was sure that both of them were wearing too many layers of clothing at that moment, and was debating whether or not she was drunk enough to have Kol take her right then and there.

Kol barely seemed to notice when she pulled him out of the crowd to the most private room closest to them- the bathroom. Hardly romantic, but beggars couldn't be choosers. As soon as the door was shut, Anya practically ripped her dress off, shimming it down to her waist. Kol welcomed the sight of her bra, his hands eager to get it off. But it was when Anya's hands came to his belt that he frowned against her lips.

She paid him no attention, and had it half off when his hands stopped her movements. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. She raised an eyebrow, silently asking what's your problem?

Kol groaned, frustrated. He seemed at war with himself, and when he saw her all half-naked and practically undressing him with her eyes, it only made him question why he chose to have morals at that moment of all moments.

But, no. This wasn't some random bar whore. This was Anya, his Little Witch. The girl he had been pursuing for a while now. And he wasn't going to throw that away, all his hard work, for a drunken hook up in a grungy bathroom in a frat house, no matter how scandalous and amazing it would be.

"I am going to hate myself in the morning," he muttered, Anya's big green eyes blinking up at him slowly. She was frowning, confused.

"What's wrong?" she asked, and his decision was reinforced by the slurring nonsense that came out when she spoke.

"Get yourself cleaned up, Love. I'm taking you home."

Anya's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"Because this isn't the time or the place for what you have in mind in that dirty little head of yours, Darling," Kol said dryly, and Anya felt herself turn red.

Humiliation. Rejection. It wasn't something she was very familiar with, though she had had a steady boyfriend throughout high school and hadn't done much casual dating. But she was now glad for it. Being rejected sucked. It stung, it humiliated you. Knowing Kol didn't want her, it hurt.

She refused to look him in the eye. Instead she busied herself by hastily pulling up her dress. She made to rush past him, out of the bathroom, and away from the terrible feelings creeping up on her. But before she could escape, Kol grabbed her wrist to keep her from running.

He sighed, already regretting his decision to be honorable. "Don't look so hurt, Little Witch. I was trying to do the right thing."

She snorted. "Since when?"

He growled, low in his throat. "This isn't because I don't want you, Love. Trust me. If you hadn't been so drunk you can barely walk straight and had we been anywhere but this overrated college party, the things I would do to you-"

Kol promptly cut himself off before the sexual frustration would take him over and he would pin Anya to the floor and rip off that poor excuse for a dress. Taking advantage of his distraction, Anya slipped out of his grip and out the door and was gone.

~LIP~

"You're home early. I expected you home drunker with that witch hanging off of you."

Kol barely spared his sister a glance. "Aw, yes. How unfortunate that we couldn't do the walk of shame together, Bekah," he said lightly, turning towards her with a smirk on his lips.

Rebekah just rolled her eyes. "I expect that you finally killed that Lewis witch, then?" she said, looking back down at the magazine in her lap.

What a relief it would have been, had he been able to replied "why yes, Sister, I did. And she was delicious". His flirtation with Anya had his entire family on edge. Elijah was even more uptight than usual, Rebekah never gave up a chance to mock Kol's taste in women, and Klaus, Niklaus with the worst history with the Lewis' out of all of them, even himself, was about ten seconds away from killing Anya himself. But Kol had made it very clear Anya wasn't to be harmed, not by any of them. He suspected she remained alive more out of the fact that none of them wanted Kol, who could be even more obnoxious when he was trying, to lurk over them for the next century than because they actually respected his threat.

"No, Anya's perfectly well, how nice of you for asking," Kol replied instead. His patience for conversation was quickly wearing out.

Rebekah's eyebrows shot up to the ceiling. "Either you've gone soft, brother, or that witch is too much for you," she mocked softly.

His eyes narrowed. "Shut it, Rebekah, or you'll find yourself lacking a liver," he growled.

"What's got you all uptight tonight? Anya playing hard-to-get or something?" Rebekah didn't care so much as wanted to rile her brother up as much as possible.

"Mind your own, Bekah," Kol said, turning his back on her.

"She wants nothing to do with you, doesn't she?" Rebekah seemed almost gleeful that her brother was rejected.

"For your own information, Anya couldn't get enough of me," he snapped back at her, his mind going back to the taste of the Little Witch. Her feel, her scent, it was all embedded in his mind.

Rebekah's eyebrows knitted together, before her eyes widened when she came to her realization. "You turned her down," Rebekah said. "Why? You done with your infatuation for that irrelevant witch?"

"No, I don't think so," Kol said casually.

Rebekah smirked suddenly. "She was intoxicated, wasn't she? And you didn't want to take advantage of her."

Kol would have torn his sister's head off in that moment.

"Shut up, Rebekah."

"How noble of you, Kol. Elijah would be so proud."

"I will kill you here and now, I swear to it," he growled at her.

"That wouldn't be very honorable of you, now would it?"

Kol wanted to enjoy is time with Anya, drag it out even. Because she was snarky and sassy and fun and interesting and confusing and boring and she could handle her liquor. Anya was an enigma smeared with red lipstick, and if he were to sleep with her- when he were to sleep with her- he would do it right. She would want him even more than she did tonight, and she would be sober, god damn it, because women wanted Kol without even being wasted.

Kol wasn't the noble brother, not even close, but there were some things he wanted to do right.

~LIP~

"Et tu animam tuam in salutem senties dolorem. Et tu animam tuam in salutem senties dolorem."

Anya gasped, feeling the magic coursing through her veins. She gripped Connor's hands tightly in her own, holding on for dear life almost. Her eyes flashed white as she chanted the old, dead words.

She heard Connor gasp as the magic healed him. She had found a new spell, one that didn't require her blood. It was more like she was giving a bit of her soul to him, her energy. It would heal him longer and faster than her blood could. But the spell took a lot out of Anya, more than any spell had before. And after the last Latin word fell from her lips, her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she collapsed to the floor, completely wiped of energy.

When she finally gained consciousness, Anya was still on the floor. Connor hadn't bothered to move her to the couch. Her head ached, but Anya bet that had something to do with her hangover from her Night of No Regrets with Kol the night before. Just thinking about it, how she had practically thrown herself at him, made her want to bury her head under her bed for a thousand years and never come out.

"'Bout time you woke up," Connor mused from the couch, his eyes glued to the cheap TV they had.

Anya sat up slowly, rubbing her temples. "How long was I out?" she wondered.

"A few hours, give or take," he answered, taking a sip from the blood he had in a glass. He was drinking blood- that was a good sign.

"How do you feel?" Anya asked, sitting down next to him. She propped her feet up on the coffee table.

"Great, actually. Better than I have since I was first turned. I think the spell worked. We should keep using it," Connor said. He definitely seemed more full of life; happier, even. Anya was beyond joyful. The more time they had, the better.

Anya bit her lip in response. "I don't know if we can. That took a lot out of me. I don't know if I'll be able to pull it off by myself again."

Connor frowned at her. "But what if it's the only spell that can save my life? You'll let me die because you're weak?"

Anya blanched and shook her head furiously. "Of course not, Connor. I'll try my best, I promise-"

He briskly cut her off. "Good. Make sure your best is good enough."

Anya felt her stomach sink as she pulled her knees up to her chin. But Connor didn't notice, he was already moving on to the next topic.

"How's it going with Kol Mikaelson? You two went out last night, right? How'd that go?"

Anya found herself nodding. "I'm definitely making progress," she said, staring blankly down at the floor.

"Good. How long do you think it will take until you can get the stone?" Connor asked, flipping through channels on the TV.

She frowned. "I'm not sure, really. I don't want to rush it. He might find out then, and that won't be good for anybody."

Connor stared at her. "You better not be taking your sweet time, Anya. I need that stone, and I need it as soon as possible…"

After that, Anya started to tune him out. She wasn't in the right state mentally to be listening to him rant for ten minutes. Instead, her mind began to drift off towards last night.

How close had she been to sleeping with Kol? So close. That was part of the plan, after all. Seduce him, get close to him, steal the stone.

But, last night, that overrated stone had been the last thing on her mind.

She hadn't been thinking about the plan or Connor or anything besides Kol's skin against hers. It made her feel guilty. It made her feel concerned and confused.

She wasn't just in it for the stone, to save Connor. Her relationship with Kol was complicated. It was based on lies and duplicity, yet there was something real buried beneath it all. Real feeling. Real emotion. Real attraction.

Anya enjoyed her time with Kol, she would admit it. He was fun, exciting. He knew how to hold a conversation. And, while it was hard to get him to shut up sometimes, he knew how to tell stories, and he had stories to tell.

And, hell, he was great to look at. And she was attracted to him. Besides the murderous and blood thirsty personality, Kol was a man who was hot and was fun to be around- at least some of the time.

And Anya wanted him. She generally did.

And she was damned the moment she realized that.

~LIP~

A/N: I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LACK OF UPDATE.

On the bright side, I have finished outlining the rest of this story, and we're looking at it ending at about 35 chapters, give or take.

I'm also thinking about adding sex scenes later in this story. What's your opinion on that?

Thanks for reviewing!

~Abby :)