Look Into My Eyes Ch. 13

I'm not done with what happens at the ball but I wanted to give a better understanding as to why they came back.

POV: Rebekah

In my time with Rose I had gotten to play house. I had always wanted to be a mom. This was all I would get. And even thought she was not a baby and she was not mine, she was mine.

In the last six years, I spent a lot of time trying to help her heal. She had been thought way too much for such a young girl. She was so smart and petty and kind. Why did this have to happen to her?

She spent much of the first year only getting out of bed to go to school and eat what I had to all but force feed her in the morning and night. She seemed so hollow and fragile. I feared that she would brake at anytime. So I tried not to do anything that may upset her. I didn't get upset with her for talking very little or for laying in bed most of the day.

But by the end of that first year, I knew that I had been babying her to much. She may be a child but she had no life in her and I was not helping her any, letting her get away with the way she was behaving.

So I started making her talk to me at dinner every night. Telling me about her day at school.

Then I started giving her chores. She needed to get out of bed for something. Even if it was something I wouldn't even do myself.

She had started to get some what better. In the years that followed. She talked more at dinner. Without having to be asked or made. She did her chores everyday. And then had tea in the library and read a book before going to bed.

But she still only left the house for school. She had made a few friends but didn't ever do anything with them outside of school. One day I told her that she needed to join a club she had after all, been in the school for four years.

So she took art. That had surprised me a lot. When I asked her she said she remembered looking at Nik's paints and wanted to be able to make something half that good. She had a talent for it too. That had been why I had taken her to Rome. I had hope, it may help her with her art and her people skills. But we had to come back soon after getting there because Nik had not wanted her to leave London.

By the time we had been in London for six years I knew that there was nothing left that I could do to help her.

I could see the way she tried not to care for anyone. She feared loss. I understood that.

She seemed to have also become fearful of herself and her magic.

So I took her back to New Orleans her home and mine. To help her over come some of her fears and fully heal.

When I saw her and Nik dancing, I saw for the first time a true smile on her lips. It lasted only a moment but it told me that bring her home was the best thing I could have ever done for her.

It may even be good for my brother. She would be a good friend to him and maybe the love letter boy would give her some hope of love.