[throughout the week klaus will find little messages on his bathroom mirror written in very familiar handwriting.
the first one:]
do you really think you can change?
[the second message:]
you're as selfish as you've always been.
[the third:]
you destroy everything you touch. you ruined your first child, you'll ruin the second, just like you ruined me and everything else. you can't love anything without destroying it.
[the fourth:]
to be loved by you is a burden, they would be better off without you. your siblings, your children, you precious blondes Camille and Caroline, everyone
[and finally, at the end of the week]
i wonder how your daughter would feel to know you're content to stay here and be happy without her.
[ he cannot pretend that the messages his dear and perverse sister leave do not strike him. if she's watching (and he's no doubt she is, with that vicious and terrible streak of cruelty only one born of rebekah can unleash) she will see how each love note makes its mark.
it only worsens by the end, each word needling under his skin despite all his better sense and defenses; each sentiment impressing upon him truths and his sibilant whispers that so often plague and haunt him and hound his steps.
for centuries, for now, for always.
(and that they are from rebekah, who knows his weaknesses, his faults, his heart—from any version of rebekah—
it is nothing less than intimate.)
there's a crack on the mirror, in the shape of a fist, stained with his blood, by the third. by the last, no amount of calculation and pacing stops him from picking up a pen. ]
I wonder how content you will be when I have your head on a pike.
Perhaps as content as you are now, all alone in a sad, fabricated world.
[ and with that, he rips the mirror off the wall and lets it shatter. ]
I Came Around To Tear You Little World Apart
the first one:]
do you really think you can change?
[the second message:]
you're as selfish as you've always been.
[the third:]
you destroy everything you touch. you ruined your first child, you'll ruin the second, just like you ruined me and everything else. you can't love anything without destroying it.
[the fourth:]
to be loved by you is a burden, they would be better off without you. your siblings, your children, you precious blondes Camille and Caroline, everyone
[and finally, at the end of the week]
i wonder how your daughter would feel to know you're content to stay here and be happy without her.
I Came Around To Tear You Little World Apart
it only worsens by the end, each word needling under his skin despite all his better sense and defenses; each sentiment impressing upon him truths and his sibilant whispers that so often plague and haunt him and hound his steps.
for centuries, for now, for always.
(and that they are from rebekah, who knows his weaknesses, his faults, his heart—from any version of rebekah—
it is nothing less than intimate.)
there's a crack on the mirror, in the shape of a fist, stained with his blood, by the third. by the last, no amount of calculation and pacing stops him from picking up a pen. ]
I wonder how content you will be when I have your head on a pike.
Perhaps as content as you are now, all alone in a sad, fabricated world.
[ and with that, he rips the mirror off the wall and lets it shatter. ]