when talking about being witch again, it's all said in the hypothetical. of course, he knows there's a way to be one once more, but it's never been an option for him. that path has been rightfully barricaded with a troll not allowing him to pass. over the years, kol's learned to accept his jealousy and resentment of never getting to be a witch in his true body.
he'd always known davina would make anything and everything happen for him. she's made him happy, helped him control his own anger, and even forgive those like his brothers and sister who had wronged him in the past. if he had asked her for the world, she'd deliver it to him on a golden platter.
he wants to be a witch. now, with it within arm's rest, he isn't so sure if it's possible. ridiculous, isn't it?
quite aware of how uncharacteristically quiet he is, he clears his throat. ]
Well, love… [ he'd thought perhaps placing his hand on top of hers and drawing it into his lap would give him the words he needed, but they've escaped even his attempt. he lets out a loud breath, looking at their kitchen table as if it has blueprints of how this will all go down—what words to say, what words to not say, the thoughts to have and the ones to leave behind.
playing with her fingers, he looks at her. ] It's a very big step. [ for him, for her, for them. ] There's a very big chance I'll get wrinkles now.
[ that's not one of his main worries, but it's easier to break uncertainties, doubts, and even excitement with humour. ]
even though i'm excited for this concept, the fact you only have one icon is unforgivable. i'm sry.
when talking about being witch again, it's all said in the hypothetical. of course, he knows there's a way to be one once more, but it's never been an option for him. that path has been rightfully barricaded with a troll not allowing him to pass. over the years, kol's learned to accept his jealousy and resentment of never getting to be a witch in his true body.
he'd always known davina would make anything and everything happen for him. she's made him happy, helped him control his own anger, and even forgive those like his brothers and sister who had wronged him in the past. if he had asked her for the world, she'd deliver it to him on a golden platter.
he wants to be a witch. now, with it within arm's rest, he isn't so sure if it's possible. ridiculous, isn't it?
quite aware of how uncharacteristically quiet he is, he clears his throat. ]
Well, love… [ he'd thought perhaps placing his hand on top of hers and drawing it into his lap would give him the words he needed, but they've escaped even his attempt. he lets out a loud breath, looking at their kitchen table as if it has blueprints of how this will all go down—what words to say, what words to not say, the thoughts to have and the ones to leave behind.
playing with her fingers, he looks at her. ] It's a very big step. [ for him, for her, for them. ] There's a very big chance I'll get wrinkles now.
[ that's not one of his main worries, but it's easier to break uncertainties, doubts, and even excitement with humour. ]