Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries or it's characters, though I really wish I owned Klaus. Sigh.
A/N: I'm trying my hand at writing Klaroline. Really, they're the only thing I want to write. They're all I care about in life anymore, so I just have to write them. 'Kay? I don't know, maybe it's junk though.
I got the idea from watching Klaus' early days in the show, using Alaric's body. I wondered... who did he get all of his information from on the gang? And why did he randomly develop his obsession with Caroline? Thus the idea formed that he compelled Caroline to spill all the beans, and she was none-the-wiser for it. It was going to be short, but then I kinda went crazy with it and wrote 50-some-odd pages. It's AUish in that episode 22 basically did NOT happen (not that I didn't love it and not that I'm not intrigued with the body swap, because I am. I started writing this story after episode 21 aired, and episode 22 just changed my ideas too much). So we're gonna pretend that not only was Klaus dessicated, but Alaric too, because he ain't wreaking havoc in this story. Boo.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. It's very different from my usual writing style, and it switches between Caroline's and Klaus' POV. I'd appreciate any feedback on how bad it sucked or if the characters were OOC or if I just fail at life or something. Tell me, I can take it.
Title of the story is a line from the song "Compulsion" by Doves, which played in the episode when Klaus was "occupying" Alaric's body. I thought that seemed appropriate to the start of this story.
But I Surrender Love
As the class files out, feet shuffling and bags slung over shoulders, Klaus looks away with disinterest. This is a complete waste of his day; there isn't a positive word he could give about teaching. It's possibly the most boring thing he's done in his entire existence (and he's been existing for quite some time). He'd had his moment, seen his doppelganger (and wanted to snatch her right then and there, enough with the pretenses), and now that the excitement is over with, the thought of spending the rest of the day in a stuffy room filled with insufferable teenagers is about as unbearable as things can get.
What is he even suppose to be teaching them? The sixties? He can hardly remember them. After he'd daggered Rebekah, he'd spent the majority of the twentieth century in hiding from Mikeal.
The bell shrills through the halls, signaling the next class, and a few last minute stragglers hustle to their seats. Klaus closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose (well, not his nose, but you get it. The whole being-in-someone-else's-body-experience is always an awkward and confusing one, to say the least) and leans back in his (Alaric's) chair, feet propped on the desk in front of him.
"I have a headache, class. Talk amongst yourselves for the rest of the period. Quietly."
As he'd said, pretenses be damned. He won't be spending much time in this body anyway. Just enough time to do some reconnaissance, get rid of the pesky witch, the usual.
A blonde girl in the back is giving him a curious look as the rest of the class buzzes into (Quiet!) conversation.
She's a pretty little thing…
The 'pretty little thing' lifts her brows at him, and mouths, 'are you okay?'
Klaus tilts his head to the side, the corners of his lips quirking in amusement. How…familiar of her. Just what is this teacher getting up to with his students? He grins at her, in a predatory way, and she furrows her brow at him, looking confused.
And then she pulls her phone out, fingers flying across the keys on the front.
Alaric's phone buzzes in his pocket just as she sets hers down. It can be no coincidence. He unlocks the screen to find a new message from 'Caroline'.
Klaus snaps his eyes to her briefly. Caroline; it suites her.
are you okay?
Definitely the blonde then. Even more interesting. Alaric is trading phone numbers with his attractive female students? Perhaps he isn't as much of a bore as Klaus originally thought.
I'm fine, sweetheart. Why do you ask?
Caroline makes a little strangled noise from her seat in the back. Klaus peers at her from beneath his lashes, eyes tracking the flush that has crept into her cheeks. He smirks, but she doesn't look up.
very funny, ric. seriously, youre being weird.
Before he can respond, another message buzzes across the screen.
is this about the whole jenna thing?
Klaus glances up again, and Caroline is watching him. She winces guiltily.
srry. elena told me dont be mad.
His brows rise; so Caroline is friends with his doppelganger? Very interesting. That would explain the familiarity with her teacher/the vampire hunter. Perhaps Alaric isn't having affairs with his students after all. Pity. That could have been fun.
Of course, this is the opening he needs. Katerina can't be trusted, by himself or by this little band of heroes; if they have any brains at all, they most likely haven't breathed so much as a word of importance in front of her. The same goes for Isobel, as well. While she can be trusted under his compulsion, she hasn't exactly played the most prominent role in his doppelganger's life. She wouldn't know all the intimate details, the things that unites this misfit group and makes them tick, their deepest fears and longings. This girl, though. She just might be exactly what he's been looking for.
You know, it's bad form to text a teacher in the middle of class.
Caroline starts to laugh, and quickly stifles it with a cough.
i dont see much teaching going on up there. XD
I said, I have a headache.
2 many drinks with damon the grill last night? ;)
Klaus looks up and narrows his eyes at her. Caroline grins back.
Keep it up, sweetheart. I might have to punish you for this later.
She makes another strangled noise in the back of her throat. Klaus wonders what other noises he could get her to make in that delectable-looking throat.
oh god. are you flirting with me?
Caroline scoffs and throws her phone in her purse. She refuses to look at him for the rest of the class. He watches her the entire time.
Emergency. Meet in my classroom right away.
Caroline shuts her locker door with a bang, scowling at her phone. Emergency? Seriously? When isn't there an emergency in Mystic Falls? It had just better be an emergency, because really, flirting with her? Alaric really is going off the deep end. And she is officially creeped out.
She shuffles her way towards his classroom, throwing her bag over her shoulder, wondering what it is this time. More werewolf drama? Vampire drama? Klaus drama? All of the above?
"Alright, I'm here, can we make this fast? I have things to –"
Alaric suddenly looms up in front of her. Caroline stops short, furrowing her brows at him.
"Caroline," he purrs, and she instantly steps back, on edge. "I'm so glad you could make it. Do me a favor and don't move." She feels like she's drowning in his eyes, they pull her in and suck her under, she hasn't felt anything this powerful since Damon use to –
Caroline can't move.
"Sssh," he breathes, and his hands rise to cradle her face, his eyes boring into hers. He's standing way too close, his thighs pressed against hers, but she can't move.
"Alaric, what –"
"I said be quiet." Her mouth snaps shut, and no matter how hard she tries, she can't open it. Oh God, this is – is she being compelled?
Caroline glares fiercely at him. How is he doing this? How the hell is this happening?
Alaric smiles at her, and his smile sends chills up her spine. It's the sort of smile that just does not look natural on his face. Alaric never smiles like that.
"Good girl," he whispers, and his breath fans across her lips. Caroline shudders. "You know, I wasn't sure before from across the room, with so many other beating hearts nearby, but I can tell now." His fingers brush across her throat, where her pulse used to be. "Vampire," he breathes, and his voice is almost like a caress. Reverent.
"It makes sense," Alaric continues. "My doppelganger seems to be surrounding herself with vampires. Is this her defense against me? As if you could beat me. You're a baby."
Caroline's brow crinkles. His doppelganger? What in the hell is Alaric even talking about? Seriously.
God, she wants to talk so bad. Her jaw clenches.
"Tell me, sweetheart," his eyes probe hers again, and there she is, drowning. She sags weakly against him, and one of his arms curl around her waist, pressing her tighter. She shudders again, trapped in his arms. "Tell me everything."
And then she's telling him. Everything.
The sun is going down outside. She's sitting in her usual desk, and Alaric has pulled another around to face her. Caroline feels spent. And dirty. She imagines this must be a feeling similar to what a whore feels, the shame that is spreading through her. This man (because he is most certainly not Alaric) has left nothing sacred; he has delved into her most personal memories and thoughts, routed through her entire life, in an endless pursuit of all things Elena.
He has uncovered her insecurities, her petty jealousy, her shallowness. Her fear that she would always be second to her best friend. That feeling she got, when she won Miss Mystic Falls and beat Elena at something, finally. The day that Katherine smothered her to death.
She tells him about killing that man at the carnival, how good it had felt, how right, and how badly she misses that feeling. Confesses to her struggle to not just rip into the throat of every person that pisses her off and bleed them dry. Admits that she feels a deep urge to hunt, to stalk, to become the predator she knows deep down she is now, and prey upon her victims: humans. But she perseveres, Caroline says. She fights it, and she controls herself impeccably. She hasn't had an accident in a long while, and she thinks maybe this whole thing has sort of made her into a better person (he snorts).
Caroline even tells him about all of Damon's compulsion, and the time she'd thrown him across the hall when she turned and remembered everything he did to her (Alaric smiles at her almost proudly). Her love for Matt and her confusion over Tyler. The night Tyler kissed her and confused her even more. The fact that Tyler is a werewolf. Alaric's (not Alaric!) eyes gleam at this piece of information. He laughs outright when she tells him about Stefan and Damon's constant war over Elena.
He frowns heavily when she tells him about Jules and her werewolf pack, and digging a wooden bullet out of her own skull. Terror and pain and blood, and Tyler actually hesitated. She mentions Elijah's witch saving them, and Alaric looks speculative.
Caroline leans weakly against the desktop; she's been stuck in this classroom for hours, talking to this man about things that just are not his business. She's tired, and she feels used. She really just wants to curl up in bed and cry, because she just doesn't understand what is happening here and it's horrible. It feels wrong. So wrong.
Alaric stands and stretches, like a satisfied cat. Caroline looks up at him expectantly, and scowls when he smiles at her.
"Thank you, sweetheart, for being so compliant." He grasps her arm and tugs her from her seat, so roughly that she staggers forward into his chest. "This has been very instructive."
"Who are you?" Her voice whispers between them, hoarse, and she swallows thickly when she sees something like approval flash in his eyes. His fingers play with the ends of her hair as he leans closer to her.
"Call me Klaus," he purrs into her ear, his lips brushing across her skin. Caroline sucks in a deep breath and backs as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately a desk blocks her way, and her thighs bump into the sharp edge. Alaric (Klaus!) follows her footsteps, caging her against the desk, and one finger trails across her cheek.
"Caroline," he muses. "Turned by Katerina. I believe you are the one she intended to give me for my vampire sacrifice." The finger is trailing down her arm now, and she is not shaking (damnit she's not).
"Pity," he says, and Caroline bites her cheek. "Such a pretty little thing." She wants to vomit.
Klaus sighs regretfully.
"Back to business, I'm afraid. You will not remember any of this. You went shopping after school today, and now you need to go home and get ready for the dance."
Caroline smiles, and walks away.
She flies through hair and makeup, berating herself for spending so long shopping (and with nothing to show for it, either!) when she should have been getting ready for the dance. She hustles into her outfit just as a knock sounds against the front door. Caroline pastes a smile on her face; she doesn't understand what this feeling stirring inside of her is, churning in her gut, but it feels horrible. And for some inexplicable reason she feels an urge to start drinking a daily dose of vervaine.
Caroline is standing at the punch bowl, smiling her sunshine smile at everyone within the vicinity and thinking just how perfect everything is. So she had to compel her boyfriend to forget that she's a monster. There are worse things in life, right?
"You look lovely tonight, Caroline."
Caroline sloshes the punch in her cup a little as she jolts, looking up at Alaric. She feels instantly uneasy, but she doesn't understand why.
"Oh. Thanks, Ric – I mean, Mr. Saltzman." She tries her smile out again, but it doesn't feel natural so she sips her drink instead. "I should probably go find Matt," she hedges, looking around the gym for her boyfriend to avoid looking at Alaric. She feels stupid for her nerves, the edginess that had crept through her the second she heard his voice. But she can't stand there with him. Warning bells are sounding in her head, and she just knows that she needs to get away from him.
In the back of her mind, she's thinking of Stefan's warning as they'd danced. Klaus is here. Look out for anything unusual.
"Of course," he murmurs, and then he's grabbing her hand and placing a moist, lingering kiss along the inside of her wrist, hot breath fanning across her skin. Caroline stares at him with wide eyes. "I'll see you soon, Caroline."
Why does that sound like a threat to her?
It makes sense to her, afterwards. The unease; the familiar churning in her gut; something telling her to get the hell away from Alaric at that dance. Somehow, she must have sensed something was off; that the man in front of her was not Ric.
"I'll see you soon, Caroline," He'd said.
She shivers, and scrubs the spot on her wrist where he'd kissed her.
Caroline runs her fingers over her hips, smoothing down the silken material of the purple dress she's trying on, adjusting it so that it lays against her just right. With pursed lips, she regards her reflection speculatively and wrinkles her nose. The neckline is a bit…deeper than she typically goes for. She turns to the side, checking out her ass in the mirror.
She's pushing her breasts up with her hands, squishing her cleavage together and thinking maybe she should find a better bra for this dress if it's going to dip that low, when her dressing room door opens, the lock snapping in half and scudding across the floor; a man steps in and shuts the door behind him, smirking at her devilishly. Caroline gapes at the man before her, promptly dropping her hands from where they'd been squeezing her breasts.
"Excuse you! Get out!" Caroline yells, wrapping her arms around her chest as if it can shield the fact that she'd kind of been groping herself just then. The guy smiles, and she's distracted by his dimples for a moment (okay, the pervert is ridiculously good looking), before she's pushing against his chest with all her strength, intending to send him flying through the door for his intrusion.
He doesn't budge. Caroline's eyes widen. He's a –
"Caroline," the man purrs, and the hairs on the back of her neck rise at the sound of his voice. Oh, God, the pervert who is also possibly a vampire has an impossibly sexy voice. Wait, how does he know her name? "I thought I'd formally introduce myself."
Then he chuckles, his breath fanning across her cheek as he leans closer, and she is so not having impure thoughts about this man and her, alone in this dressing room. Nope, she's sure not. "Well, technically we've met, but I wasn't exactly…myself then."
Caroline's brow furrows in confusion; she would have remembered meeting a man as impossibly handsome as this one. Because his is handsome, very much so. He's breathtaking, exuding confidence and something that just feels dangerous, something wild and it terrifies her and excites her. He's stalking closer to her, crowding her backwards into the mirror. Every step is graceful and…sensual. She would have definitely remembered this man. He's the kind of man that the old Caroline would have shamelessly thrown herself at, because in a word…he's hot.
And then it hits her, out of nowhere, like a lighting strike; the pieces click into place, and she wonders why it took her this long to figure it out. 'I'll see you soon, Caroline,' he'd said.
Oh, God. Oh, No. No, no, no. He's not handsome, or breathtaking, or sexy. He's not hot!
He's Klaus. And she was not just having impure thoughts about Klaus. And if anyone ever said otherwise, she'd have to kill them. Because no. Just no.
Pressing herself as tightly as she can against the mirror, desperate to put some space between them, Caroline hisses her conclusion to him: "Klaus."
His eyes gleam at her appreciatively. "Very good, Caroline. I'm impressed." His chest brushes against hers as he breathes, hands coming up to brace against either side of her head. Does he have no concept of personal space? "And I'm not easily impressed."
"Well, yippee," she says sarcastically, puffing her cheeks out at him. Klaus chuckles again, and he's looking at her almost…fondly. "I feel honored to have impressed you. Now get out."
Caroline is as haughty as usual, just her daring and brash self, but on the inside she's terrified. He's here to kill me is on repeat in her mind, and when his fingers tip her chin up it's hard to fight back the tremor that begs to run down her spine. When he grins at her, all teeth, the tips of his fangs are showing, and she wonders if he's going to rip her throat out.
"Do I look like a man that follows orders, sweetheart?"
His eyes are burning intently into hers, and she wants to just melt and tell him no, no he does not, he doesn't at all, and to please not kill her. Instead she jerks her chin out of his fingers, and bares her own fangs at him. "You will if you know what's good for you," Caroline growls, and he laughs again, his thumb actually daring to brush one of her fangs. She lunges for his fingers, snapping her teeth together, but he's too fast.
Klaus slams her back against the mirror, and she hears the crunch of glass as her head bangs against it. His forearm braces against her throat, halting her wild attack, holding her in place. He's still smiling. "You're a spirited little thing, aren't you, kitten? I like that."
"What the hell do you want from me?" She demands.
The look he gives her physically gnaws at her insides, and everything in her just plummets. She can't decipher this blazing look, doesn't want to, but it's intense and it sears through her, and the way his eyebrows lift suggestively; something flips over in her stomach and her dead heart clenches.
"I don't believe you're ready to hear that yet. Perhaps one day." And then he's stepping away from her, and for a moment she feels bereft at the loss of contact (dammit, no she doesn't!). He lifts her hand, placing a kiss against her knuckles, but she quickly jerks her hand away. Klaus straightens.
"Try something in blue; I rather like you in blue."
And then he's gone.
Klaus stares at the screen on his phone with a smile, confident that everything is going to plan. He knows one of the Salvatore's will strike out and attempt to ruin his plans; he's been counting on it. Any minute he'll hear that sweet Caroline has been saved, along with that puppy that pines for her.
He doesn't need to worry about that boy, she'll never go for him, and eventually she'll realize young Matt is no good either.
No, Klaus intends to sacrifice another werewolf. His smile widens as her scream echoes from the speakers of his phone. She's in pain. Good. For a moment he pictures Caroline huddled in a corner, digging wooden bullets from her body, from her skull, and he's more than ready to rip this werewolf's heart out.
Truth be told, he owes Damon; not that Klaus would ever tell him that. But the more he had watched the baby vampire during the brief interlude he had spent in this town, the more he had realized it really would be such a pity to sacrifice her.
She has such…potential. And perhaps one day he'll show her, thanks to Damon's impromptu rescue mission.
Yes, maybe he owes him, is what he thinks as he watches Katerina scurry out the front door like the little rat she is. His blood should suffice in settling that debt.
Klaus smiles towards Stefan; no reason to inform the younger Salvatore of that. He has plans for him.
He's been keeping tabs on her since the moment she arrived at the party. Discreetly. Caroline is stunning, as usual, though he notes that she's been avoiding the color blue. This brings a smirk to his lips.
"And there's your pretty little girlfriend, Caroline."
His eyes linger on her as she laughs with a friend, and as usual it's as if she's lit up from within. And the feeling that's been growing within him, to own her, possess her, is getting impossible to deny.
She really is quite a pretty little thing.
When he asks Tyler to bite her, it has nothing to do with Stefan, and everything to do with driving her and his hybrid apart. And he'll be the one to save her.
When he feeds her his blood and lowers her gently to her pillow as she fades into sleep, he wonders when she stopped being just a pretty little thing; wonders when he started looking at her, and all he can think of is how beautiful she is.
"Are you going to tell me, yet?" Caroline whispers, her voice already thick with sleep. Klaus makes an inquisitive noise and she blinks up at him blearily. "Are you going to tell me –" a yawn interrupts her question, "– what you want from me?"
His lips tip up, just slightly, and Klaus brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. Caroline sighs. "Sweet dreams, Caroline."
His gaze never leaves her face while they dance. From time to time her eyes will glance up, as if to check that he's still watching, and then she'll quickly glance away when she sees that he is. Klaus smiles slightly in amusement; he can tell it's making her uncomfortable, but he honestly just can't help himself.
Caroline's back is stiff beneath his palm. His hand coasts down her spine slightly, dipping lower. She shoots him a glare and his smile widens.
"You know, you really are quite the dancer," he says, squeezing her hand slightly in his.
"Well," Caroline huffs, raising her chin. "I've had training. I happen to be Miss Mystic Falls."
(And he remembers sitting in the classroom with her that day. "I actually beat Elena," She'd said, and her smile lit up her face like she carried the sun within her. "I know it's petty but," and she'd raised her chin, "I'm Miss Mystic Falls, damn it.")
Klaus smiles at her. "I know," he says.
Klaus finally tells her what he wants. Well, sort of. He mostly just tells her why he's been harassing her since he first blew into town. And Caroline doesn't believe a word of it.
"I fancy you," He says, simply. For a split second, before his voice has faded into surrounding darkness, she believes him; jerks her head in surprise, unable to resist looking at him (she's been trying to resist doing that all night, because his tux dammit!) as she processes his statement. She's stumped for only a moment, before she realizes; of course it's a lie. Why should he like her (she scoffs to herself at his use of the word fancy, because otherwise she'd be melting)?
And then he stumps her again.
"You're strong, you're – you're beautiful. You're full of light." Klaus looks so earnest, and no one has ever spoken such sweet words to her before.
He's not saying these things to her. He's not! She won't accept this.
"I enjoy you." Why is his voice so soft? Like velvet, rubbing against her, and she wants to nuzzle right into it.
She won't accept this. And so she doesn't.
"Back so soon, sweetheart?"
Caroline is standing at his door, still exquisite in her blue dress, soft blonde curls falling gently from the bun she still wears. The only thing absent are her gloves; in her hands instead is his drawing.
"What the hell, Klaus," she hisses as she thrusts the picture in his face. He doesn't grab it, and it floats to the ground between them. "Creepy much?" He smiles.
"Did you not like it? I drew it from memory, but if you'd like to model for me I'm sure I could do one much better." Klaus makes sure to run his eyes down her body and back up, slowly, and Caroline crosses her arms and scoffs. "Why the hell are you doing this?"
"I thought I answered that earlier."
"Yeah, and it made no sense. You're up to something!"
"Am I now?" He asks, amused. He grabs her wrist to pull her inside, but she tugs her arm away.
"Uh, yeah. I mean, you don't even know me. You can't like me."
Doesn't know her? But he does know her. He knows everything about her, thanks to his compulsion during his stay with Alaric. Klaus doesn't tell her this. He bends over to pick up the drawing from the floor.
"Keep it," he urges, pressing it into her hands. Her fingers clutch it tightly as he steps closer, and her eyes widen as he leans forward and places a kiss on her cheek. "Please, Caroline?" He breathes, his lips lingering against her soft skin, nosing her cheekbone as he inhales in her scent. She's intoxicating.
Caroline jerks back, eyes still comically wide. And then, for just a brief moment, they flicker down to his lips. She bites down on her own bottom lip and peers up at him from beneath her lashes, and it takes everything in him not to lean forward and kiss her, take her, claim her as his.
And then she's gone. She takes the drawing with her.
She isn't really sure why she kept it, and that's what she tells Tyler. She doesn't know. But as Tyler storms out and she glances down at the drawing, fingers handling the edges delicately, she remembers a dozen things.
She remembers telling him what a psychopath he is. The anger on his face, and the hurt that was in his eyes.
She remembers his words: strong, beautiful, full of light. I fancy you. The drawing shows that; shows her strength and beauty, shows an inner light that she never even realized she'd possessed. It shows a woman that a man yearns for, desperately.
She remembers his kiss on her cheek, when she'd tried to return the drawing. 'Please, Caroline?' He'd said, and his voice had sent shivers down her spine. She'd felt his lips along her skin, so soft, and for just a brief moment she'd wondered what they would feel like elsewhere. She hadn't trusted herself to speak.
She remembers, with a lump forming painfully in her throat, their conversation on that bench outside The Grill. Take a chance, Caroline. She'd been faking it, right? He hadn't charmed her at all, hadn't thawed her heart towards him even a little bit. Had he? His smile, so eager and boyish, a look in this eyes that seemed to be pleading her, his thigh pressed to hers as he'd inched closer to her when she sat; those things hadn't effected her.
Caroline's eyes glisten wetly, burning, her face crumpling. She has no reason to cry, no reason at all. That's what she tells herself, as she scrubs the tears away forcefully.
She thinks maybe there should be other things that she should remember. Feels like maybe there's a gap missing. But she doesn't know.
"Perhaps one day, in a year, or even in a century…you'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer."
It feels just like drowning – he is drowning her, pulling her in with an intensity that is spilling from his eyes in waves, crashing into her, crushing her. She can't breathe, when he looks at her like that. For a second, just a second, she aches and he's so close, his body pressed to hers, his eyes burning into hers and she can count each beautiful eyelash and something in her stomach just drops. He looks like he might kiss her, and she can't breathe.
He'll build a little home that's meant for two
From which I'll never roam, who would, would you?
A woman's voice is cooing a sweet melody in the background, and her words are a temptation.
But Caroline scoffs, and the moment is broken. She takes a deep breath as he steps away from her, looking all crestfallen and hurt, and it feels sort of like kicking a puppy. A really, really bad puppy that does something destructive every time you leave it to its own devices.
"You mark my words," Klaus growls, his eyes angry when he looks back up at her. Caroline decides that she hates it when he glares at her; she likes the other looks that he seems to reserve for her alone. She shouldn't like them, but she does. "Small town boy, small town life. It won't be enough for you."
And then he's gone, Helen Forrest's voice chasing his back with the words: "I'm dreaming of the man I love."
Caroline shakes her head, and doesn't know what to think. What to feel.
She glares at herself in the mirror as her fingers comb roughly through her hair, destroying the careful perfection of her 20's 'do. Bobby pins bounce down onto the counter and spill into the sink, and her hair tumbles over her shoulders in disarray. She yanks the cheap pearl necklace against her throat, and it breaks apart, little drops raining down onto the floor and skidding in all directions across the bathroom.
"It doesn't matter how many times I dance with him." She'd said.
"I love you." She'd said.
Why doesn't that feel like the truth anymore?
Klaus has chipped away at her with each dance, with every second that she is near him. He has forced himself into her head, into her nearly every thought, just chipping and chipping away, and it feels like little pieces of her have changed; she doesn't think she can fix herself back to how she was before. He's gotten under her skin, with his earnest eyes and his eager dimples and his sweet words.
"You're beautiful. You're strong. You're full of light. I enjoy you." He'd said.
"I fancy you." He'd said.
Caroline braces her hands against the counter, closing her eyes with a sigh. She can't think straight, being in the same building with him. She can smell him, everywhere. The sooner Bonnie gets them out of this, the better. Her decade dance has turned into a nightmare. How much longer can she ignore this feeling that's stirring inside of her, how much longer can she keep up this façade?
The door behind her creaks, and her eyes snap open. Her glare turns ferocious as her eyes meet his through the mirror.
"This is the girls bathroom, you pervert." She refuses to turn and face him. She can glare just as easily through the mirror, thank you very much.
"If you would recall, I'm not well-known for following conventions, love," Klaus answers smoothly, stalking closer like the predator he is. His voice, as always, sets her stomach to churning in tight coils. Her fingers grip the counter so fiercely the edges crack and crumble away into dust on the floor. His lips tip up in a smirk.
"Careful, sweetheart. That's school property."
Caroline snarls at him, fangs popping from her gums before she can stop them and her eyes turning black as pitch. His smirk turns into a grin, teeth bared, all white and sparkling. She wants to punch them out of his mouth. Or she wants to stick her tongue between them, she can't really decide.
"What do you want, Klaus." Her voice comes out as a hiss. Klaus cocks his head to the side, studying her.
"It was getting boring out there, waiting on young Matt and Jeremy to save the day." He rolls his eyes, as if he can't quite believe that he's leaving his fate up to two human boys. "We didn't get much of a chance to talk earlier, with Tyler listening in."
"Listening in?" She makes a face at him through the mirror. "Are you crazy? You make it sound like there's actually something going on between us to listen in to."
Klaus smiles, amused, and brushes her tangled blonde hair over one shoulder. His fingers graze her skin, and they burn right through her. "Well yes, you do tend to treat me with disdain every chance you get. That hurts, love." His smirk widens, and she rolls her eyes.
"But your body tells quite a different story." A hand trails across the skin of her back, delicately, softly, and then blazes flames down her spine. A shudder follows it, and another piece of the countertop crumbles away between her finger tips.
"Yeah, disgust maybe," Caroline tries for her usual scoff, but her voice sounds breathless. He has a self-satisfied look on his face, all smug and insatiable. Caroline purses her lips and shakes her head. She won't think about the sparks that seem to fly between them every time she's near him; this strange chemistry that just draws them together, like wildfire. She won't tolerate it.
"You can't deny it," he whispers, and his lips hover over her throat. "I feel it too." Goosebumps break out where his breath caresses her skin hotly, and he traces his fingers over them.
"Sometimes you don't even breathe," Klaus murmurs, eyes at half-mast and burning into hers through the mirror, before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder. And he's right; Caroline isn't breathing. To prove a point, she exhales and then inhales quickly, but as his lips trail from her shoulder to her neck to the shell of her ear, it sounds more like panting than breathing.
A hand wraps around her waist, pulling her against him roughly, and then her earlobe is sucked between his lips; his teeth nip it before letting it pop out if his mouth with a loud, wet sucking noise. And God, she can't help it, she can't stop it before the moan is scratching through her throat and slipping from between her tightly clenched teeth.
Caroline freezes, hastily opening her eyes when she realizes that they were closed, and glares at him in the mirror. She hates him, hates him, but the image of the two of them in that mirror will be burned into her memory for the rest of her eternal life; her front pressed to the counter, arms trembling against the ledge, Klaus pressed to her backside with his hands all over her, a wicked gleam in his eyes and a wicked smirk to match. He's panting too, his chest brushing her back, and for a moment it feels – God, it's so. Damn. Good.
And then she elbows him fiercely in the gut and he's gone, but his chuckle echoes in her ears. She collapses against the counter in shivers before the bathroom door is even fully closed.
Okay. So. She's attracted to him. That is a fact, and an undeniable one at that. But come on, seriously? Who wouldn't be? It isn't that bad that she's attracted to him. Is it?
Caroline rolls over in her bed and relents. "Fine. You can be attracted to him," she groans to herself. "But that's it, Caroline!" She won't think about the small glimpses of humanity he's shown her, won't think about a little boy who was probably never shown even an ounce of love. She's not going to fix him. He is not her responsibility.
She feels better already. Snuggling into her pillows with a sigh of relief, she drifts off to sleep.
Her dreams take some creative license, all on their own. They are not content to admire from a distance. No, they conjure up the feel of his lips (God, they'd been so soft and warm against her skin), and they place them all over her. Every where his lips go, his hands follow, and it's torture. The most exquisite torture she's ever experienced.
She relents some more, scratching her nails up his back and purring into his ear. Submission. Betrayal. She lets him take her, hard and slow, and it's his name that she cries out as she wakes at the peak of her orgasm.
If it's just in her dreams, it's okay, right?
All she can think about is that last moment with him. It plays in her head, on a constant loop, over and over and over again. She chokes a feeble "Love you," to Tyler, and then her fingers are disconnecting the call. Throwing the device across the room. Not even flinching as it shatters against the wall.
"Shh shh…it's okay." He'd said.
"You're safe." He'd said.
But it hadn't been okay; it hadn't been okay at all. Everything had changed. In that one small, breathless moment it had all shifted. She'd felt the change, somewhere in her gut; it wrenched through her the second it happened.
"Thank you." She'd said.
"Come with me." She'd wanted to say.
It had tugged at her, the new feeling. Ripped her apart, stuck its claws in her and wouldn't let go. And she didn't want it to. It was irrevocable, she could see that. Him. Her. Them. Undeniable. A certainty.
Except it isn't. Not now.
Caroline realizes, too late, that she'd been looking forward to that day. The one where she turns up on his doorstep, and he'd smirk his little trademark smirk and she'd scoff the entire time. And inside she'd be falling apart; every time he smiled, every glance, every touch. He would swallow her whole. She would be his and he would be hers.
She wants to be his. And more than anything, she wants him to belong to her.
I can't breathe.
She continues to dream of him, and the dreams vary in theme. Sometimes they dance, and she revels in the feeling of being in his arms, resting her cheek against his shoulder, fingers tracing over the back of his neck.
Most of the time they consume her with heat; his lips deliciously soft against hers, everything hot and moist, breathless, and the feeling that tingles all through her as his tongue touches hers, fighting for dominance.
Sometimes…sometimes they hurt. In her chest, in her gut. He's gone, and all she can feel is this crushing pain, drowning her, suffocating her. Sometimes she can see him, in the distance, and the look on his face…Oh, God…
'I'm sorry,' she whispers, over and over again.
Every time, she wakes up with his voice in her ears, so real it's as if he's there.
"It's okay," he breathes, "You're safe."
Caroline realizes, numbly, that tears are sliding down her cheeks.
Senior year passes; not long at all, in the scheme of things, but it feels like an eternity to Caroline.
She tries, for Tyler's sake; pastes her 'I-am-sunshine' smile on her face and troops through each and every day as bravely as she can. Nobody notices the numbness inside of her, not really; except for Tyler. She tries and tries so hard for him, because she loved him (loves him), but she hurts him anyway. Every time that she hesitates when he kisses her, every time she draws back as his arms start to enfold her, she can almost hear his heart breaking. She doesn't even blame him for leaving her.
'I just can't anymore, Caroline. This isn't fair. I'm gone.' She'd been watching him pack his room up, sitting as small as possible on the edge of his bed, arms looped around her knees. When he'd shouldered his pack, the look he gave her was one of resignation. No more heartfelt promises, no more declarations of love. Just cold, resigned bitterness. 'Take care of yourself, Care.' Caroline had nodded, dazedly, and looked away. She never once tried to stop him.
Sometimes she pulls out the dress; the blue material flows softly through her fingers and the silver trimmings gleam and sparkle up at her. Sometimes she puts it on, slowly, a wan smile on her face. Never to go anywhere; she'll put it on and lay carefully across her bed, face up, straightening the skirt with careful hands so it falls just right. Her eyes close, and her mind is filled with images that seem to be from some distant fairytale, not her own story.
There's a girl, dressed like a princess and shining brightly, proudly. There's a man, a sadistic sonuvabitch if ever there was one, and yet his eyes adore her as he walks in her direction; they worship her. There is a crowded ballroom, bodies whirling and skirts fluttering gracefully; she's in his arms and her expression is defiant, but his dimples make her palms sweat.
There is a girl, standing forlorn outside. There is her image, done small and neat, and she's beautiful and full of light. He told her she was full of light. Caroline pulls the drawing out and runs her fingertips over it. There are his words, in careful pen strokes, his words to her. Caroline holds them against her chest, over her dead heart. There is her pain, a cold lump that weighs her down like a stone.
She'll fall asleep, still dressed, and wake in the morning feeling a little foolish, sheepishly hanging the dress back in the closet. But she'll still trail her fingers over it wistfully, and maybe in another week she'll be wearing it again.
This dream feels different. Every dream before this had been vague, obscure, and tinged more on feelings than actual images. The emotions would fill her up, eat her alive, consume her so utterly; bitter longing, joy and sadness, an aching desire.
But now everything is so clear. She's standing in a bar, smoke-hazed and crowded. People laugh and jostle past her, dressed in suits or little dresses that swish with each step or turn. On stage a woman is singing, and her voice is divine.
Someday he'll come along, the man I love
And he'll be big and strong, the man I love
And when he comes my way
I'll do my best to make him stay
For a heart-stopping moment she thinks she sees him, thinks she recognizes the tense, straight lines of his back. But the man turns, and it isn't him. Caroline frowns, perplexed.
And then a hand is trailing over her hip, palm burning through her dress and pressing her back against him. She doesn't need to look to know it's him; he smells the same as ever. She wants to press her nose against his throat and inhale his scent, but he holds her back prisoner against his chest. She leans against him and her eyes slide shut.
"Caroline, sweetheart." His voice is dark, purring right into her ear, and she shudders in his arms. One of her hands clutch the arm around her waist, fingernails digging into the silken material of his jacket, feeling the muscles flex beneath her fingers. She clears her throat.
"Klaus," she whispers, and feels his arm tighten around her.
And then he's spinning her to face him, pulling her close against his chest, leading her in a slow dance. All of her previous dreams seem like jokes compared to this. She has never imagined his face more clearly; the dimples on his cheeks as he bestows her his charming smile, the scruff that lines his jaw (she wants to touch it so badly, feel the rough scrape of hair and feel the sift of muscle in that hard jaw), the curly blonde hair that's been coiffed to a similar perfection it had been in during the school's decade dance. She can guess where…when they are.
He'll look at me and smile, I'll understand
Then in a little while, he'll take my hand
And though it seems absurd
I know we both won't say a word
Caroline feels giddy with happiness to see him so clearly. In the back of her mind she knows it won't last. It's only a dream, and soon she'll wake up and he'll be gone. She stomps the thought down, refuses to think it. Instead she gazes up at him, wide-eyed. She can't resist answering his smile with her own.
An exuberant couple dances past them, the girl giggling madly and jostling into Caroline. Klaus whisks her aside, dancing them into a dark corner where no one can see them, and abruptly stops. Caroline's breathing heavily; he's so close, his nose brushing alongside hers. Her fingers clutch the collar of his shirt, tugging him down closer, her lips parting. She wants to kiss him so badly.
"Klaus, I –"
He'll build a little home, that's meant for two
From which I'll never roam, who would, would you?
And so all else above
I'm dreaming of the man I love
"Caroline," he starts, and his voice is dark. "I need you to find me. I need you to wake me up, love."
"What?" Wake him up, what? She's the one that's sleeping, what is he –
Klaus sighs. "I compelled you once, you know. A pity it won't work here."
Compelled her? What is he talking about? She stares up into his eyes, confused but spell-bound.
"Wake me up, Caroline."
And even though he can't compel her, she feels a tug inside of her nonetheless.
She goes to Elena first. Caring, compassionate Elena. The girl who can't stand to see any of her loved ones in pain. Caroline cries and she pleads (she knows her audience well). She says she's sorry, over and over again. Sorry for asking this; she knows she shouldn't ask for this. But she just…she can't anymore. It's too much.
Elena's face has always been an open book, but it's hard to see which emotion is more prominent. She looks equally shocked, furious, betrayed, agonized, and surprisingly understanding.
"I can't, Caroline," she whispers, holding Caroline's hands between hers. Caroline tugs them away angrily, steps away from her altogether.
"Why can't you?" She hisses (and she wants to just punch herself for being so selfish, so horrible, how can she ask this of Elena after everything?) crossing her arms. "It's not right! We can't just – we're no better than he is right now! We have no right."
"It's not that," Elena says, and she looks almost apologetic. "I just…I don't know where he is."
Well. Just, just…ugh, damn it!
Stefan is her next victim. She figures the only two people who know where Klaus is would be Stefan and Damon, and she is not asking Damon (as if he would tell her). She finds him in the woods, hunting. It's almost endearing how desperately he's trying to get back to the old Stefan.
When she him asks to please (please please, with a cherry on top?) tell her where Klaus is, he groans.
"I know, Stefan. Believe me, I know. But I just – come on, please?"
"Seriously, just think about it, okay? I promise, I promise, we can convince him to leave. Just, just take Bonnie's blood and have her ready to do the corpse-ifying spell, and give him an ultimatum. Leave Elena and Mystic Falls behind, or go back to sleep."
"I'll hold him down," she adds with a grin.
Stefan has his arms crossed, brow furrowed as he gives her the stare-down. "Why do you want this so badly?"
Because I can't stand the thought of him left vulnerable and alone in that damn coffin. Even if he deserves it. And he's torturing me with these dreams, with this bitter longing, and I just can't bear it any more.
"Because I owe him," she says. "And the guilt is eating me alive."
Stefan says no. But when Caroline Forbes goes after something, she goes after it hard. It takes about a month of begging, pleading, bitching, and stalking, but eventually he caves in. As long as they do it his way.
Caroline buys him a thank you drink at The Grill, and several shots later Stefan is drunk for the first time in a very long time. They walk out arm-in-arm and he calls her his best friend. Caroline glows.
"So this is what being desiccated looks like. Gotta say, he's not looking too good." Caroline tilts her head to the side and frowns down at him.
Her frown turns into an 'O' of surprise and she shrieks when his eyes snap open, jolting backwards into Stefan.
"Oh, God. Creepy much?"
Stefan is all business. "Just get on with it." He's edgy, and he looks like he'll change his mind any second. Caroline snags a blood bag quickly, and shuffles back towards the coffin. She looks inside hesitantly, and when she sees that Klaus' eyes are still open, she puffs her cheeks out.
"This is way weird," she mutters as she nestles the straw between his lips and squeezes her fingers around the bag, pumping the blood out. He's staring her down the whole time. Is he even aware, or is this just some kind of freaky desiccation thing? Sort of like how dead bodies sometimes move; maybe desiccated ones look around at stuff? Just…so weird.
There's not much of a change after the first bag. On the second, his skin starts to pink up. At the third, his chest starts moving; up, down, up, down. She realizes halfway through the fourth that she's breathing in sync with him.
When she removes the straw, a groan whispers past his lips and his eyes flicker shut. The bag falls from her fingers to the floor, and Stefan speeds next to her. Fiercely, his fingers dig into Klaus' chest. Klaus hisses, and his eyes flash open, glaring at Stefan.
"Bonnie's nearby," Stefan growls, and his fingers dig in even more. "She's ready to desiccate you again, if you don't agree to leave Mystic Falls and leave all of us, Elena included, the hell alone."
Klaus is breathing heavily, and his hand wraps around Stefan's wrist but his grip looks weak. His eyes flicker over to Caroline.
"Klaus, please," she whispers. He looks back at Stefan.
"Fine," he croaks. "We have a deal."
It feels like a weight has been removed from her shoulders. Caroline skips up her porch steps, and for the first time in a long time she can actually breathe. No more guilt, no more agonizing. Maybe now she can move on.
But when she walks into her bedroom and sees the Original Hybrid lounging on her bed, she freezes, and just like before, she can't breathe. Her breath stutters in her throat, and then it's gone completely.
"You're supposed to be gone."
Klaus grins at her, his teeth gleaming, a dangerous sort of smile that makes her knees go week. And before she can blink, he's flashed in front of her.
"I am leaving. I just wanted to thank you first, sweetheart. For doing as I asked."
Caroline arches a wry brow and crosses her arms. "So that was you. I wasn't sure." He smirks down at her. "You know, you could have just asked sooner. I don't appreciate your attempt at driving me crazy with all those dreams."
His smirk widens. "That was the only dream I gave you, love. Were you having others?"
He laughs. It's such – such a pleasant sound. It warms her up, all the way down to her toes.
"I'd be very interested to hear about those other dreams, Caroline. Won't you come with me?" He asks her so sweetly, for once not demanding, just asking, and his dimples are so boyish and his eyes are so earnest. God, why is it so hard to hate him?
She can't look at him. It's too much. So she looks at her feet instead. "I can't. That's not why I woke you up."
"Then why did you?"
Why does everyone keep asking her this? She can't answer them. She can't even really answer it for herself. "Because I owed you," is all she'll say.
"Just – just go, Klaus." She finally looks up, and the resignation she sees in his eyes breaks her heart. So much worse than it did with Tyler. But she just can't. At least not yet. It's too soon, she needs time.
"Very well," he says, and his voice is soft. She can't look away from his eyes. "I'll leave. But there's one thing that I –"
He doesn't finish that thought. Instead he leans closer, his lips hovering over hers. She's shaking her head, trying to pull away, but even as she steps back her hands are latching onto his jacket collar, tugging him with her, unwilling to let go.
Softly, so very softly, his lips touch hers and every part of her just shatters in his arms; she's breaking apart, leaning heavily against his chest, gripping his jacket fiercely. His hands cradle her face as he slants his lips across hers, tipping her head back, taking her bottom lip between his gently, sweetly. And it's breathtaking; it absolutely steals her breath. She whimpers against his mouth, and he sighs. Pulls back wordlessly, thumb trailing over her cheekbone. Caroline looks down and smoothes her hands over the shoulders of his jacket, straightening it. She notices she's ripped his collar. She opens her mouth to apologize, but Klaus places a finger against her lips.
She fights the urge to place a kiss against it.
"I just had to do that, at least once," he says regretfully. His thumb strokes along her bottom lip, and she sucks in a stuttering breath. "When you change your mind, I've added my number to your phone."
He grins, and then he's gone.
She notices he said when and not if. And she wonders how in the hell he got his hands on her phone.
"Creepy, psycho stalker," Caroline grumbles, and throws herself down on her bed. But her fingers rise to touch where his lips have been, and she's smiling a radiant smile.
It doesn't take long to realize that all of her torment and pain for the last several months was not just guilt at his demise. It doesn't take long at all. She misses him. Still. Hence her attempt to drown out all thought in the bliss of alcohol. She's been searching for oblivion at the bottom of each glass she drains, but so far she keeps coming up short.
"Gotta say, blondie. You've surprised me."
Ugh. So not what she's searching for.
"Go away, Damon." The scrape of the chair being pulled back next to her tells her he's not going to listen to her request. "Aren't you curious about what's got me surprised?" He sends her his usual cheeky grin, the one that use to melt her, and Caroline glowers back at him.
"Not really, so if you could just –"
"I'm surprised," Damon speaks over her easily, "that you're still here."
Caroline scoffs. "Where else am I gonna get drunk?" Damon laughs as he pours them both a shot. "Not what I meant, Barbie." He slides a shot glass in her direction. She's in the process of downing it, so when he says, "I'm surprised you're not off fucking around with my least favorite Original," she promptly spits the alcohol back out, spraying Damon. He shoots her a disgruntled look, eyes flashing.
"What. The. Hell. Damon!" He's busy mopping his face with a napkin while simultaneously shooting her the stink eye. "Are you crazy?"
"Oh, I might be crazy," he mutters as he downs his own shot, "but I'm certainly not blind." Caroline crosses her arms and scowls at him.
"Come on, blondie. You're so obvious, moping around like someone ran over your puppy," the trademark eye-squint is being leveled at her, and Caroline has no defense against it except to turn her nose up in his direction. "You fell for the bad guy. Again."
Caroline picks up her drink, to give her hands something to do. Takes another big gulp, to try to keep her mouth from running away on her. It does anyway. "Would that really be so bad? If I did?" She mumbles it against her glass, quietly, and almost wishes he wouldn't hear her. But he does, and he lets out a long sigh, pouring them each another shot. He gives her a very stern look as he passes hers along the bar top, and she smiles timidly at him.
Damon shrugs, and his smile is sardonic. "Who am I to judge?" And the look he gives her, the grudging acceptance on his face, makes her think maybe – maybe her friends will be okay. They won't completely hate her if – when… Caroline smiles a little wider, and clinks her shot glass to his before throwing it back.
Damon ends up helping her find that oblivion that she's been looking for, if only for a while. He pours shot after shot, and by the end of the night she's got her head lolling on his shoulder as she laughs at his, let's be honest, very distasteful jokes. He slams his hand on the bar top, and shouts, "To hell with it. Go get him, blondie."
She makes it two weeks before she caves in. She texts him (she cannot call him, she refuses to listen to his smug voice when he realizes that he's won).
She waits nervously for his response; fiddles with her hair; plays with her jewelry; chews her nails and then huffs in annoyance when she realizes she's chewing her nails, damn it!
Her phone buzzes and Caroline pounces on it, fingers shaking.
I'm actually in Rome. It's lovely, but not as lovely as you, sweetheart.
A big, stupid grin spreads across her face. It's just a cute text, okay?
want some company?
In the five minutes it takes him to respond, she's chewing her nails again. What if he's changed his mind? A man can only take so much rejection. Her phone buzzes.
I've booked your flight. You leave tomorrow noon.
Her grin is even bigger and stupider than before.
Caroline is too nervous (be honest, excited) to sleep much that night, so when she scrutinizes her face in the morning she has a minor panic attack over the dark bags under her eyes. She'll have to force herself to sleep on the plane, because she cannot show this hideous face to Rome (to Klaus).
When she wakes up on the plane from a very inappropriate dream (and she's not entirely sure now if it was her own, or from Klaus, and it drives her crazy not knowing), she doesn't think she can tolerate it any longer; not being with him. As in being with him. Months of sexually charged dreams, dreams that started even before he was laid to rest in his coffin, have frustrated her to a point that if she doesn't get to touch him then her head is going to explode.
Caroline smirks to herself and fluffs her hair; she'll seduce him before the day is out, then.
She's possibly not dressed in appropriate travel wear, but nevertheless, Klaus seems to appreciate the little black dress she chose. His eyes run up her legs and linger briefly on her cleavage (Houston, we have lift-off) before they finally settle on her face.
"You look ravishing, Caroline," he purrs as he leans in and kisses her on the cheek. She beams at him.
"So, where to?" She asks.
"I thought perhaps you'd like to see the Pantheon, and then –"
"No," she interrupts.
"We could go to the Colosseum –"
"Or the Roman Forum?" His voice is starting to sound a little desperate.
"Where would you like to go, Caroline?"
She purses her lips and fiddles her hair. "Well, you know, couldn't we just go to the hotel? Or wherever we're staying."
He nods enthusiastically. "Of course, I apologize. You need to drop your bags off."
Caroline laughs a little. "Umm. Yeah, my bags. Sure."
Klaus seems determined to ruin her plans for the day (see: erotic dream from the plane). When they arrive at the hotel, he hands her a key card.
"I got you your own room."
Well, that's just perfect. How the hell is she suppose to seduce him from a separate room? Caroline huffs and snatches the key card.
"You're an idiot," she says, petulant, before stomping away.
She has to stomp back for her room number. She is Caroline's epic fail.
She's just finished unpacking when her phone buzzes.
How about dinner? :)
Caroline chokes a little. Did Klaus just send her a text with a smiley face? Oh, my God.
She sends him a wink face, and he replies almost instantly.
Was that a yes?
She sends another wink face, and laughs uncontrollably when she hears a knock at her door. Klaus is frowning as she answers. "Very cryptic, love," he says, all disapproving.
Caroline links her arm through his, and smiles as he exhales sharply and clears his throat. "Dinner would be lovely, Klaus."
He dimples his cheek at her, and her stomach drops to her feet.
They're halfway through dinner, and a bottle of wine, when he asks her the question that she's been hoping he wouldn't.
"So tell me, love. What changed your mind?"
He's looking at her over the rim of his glass, eyes hooded. She's pinned to her chair by his gaze, it freezes her and something warm is slipping down her stomach, pulling her insides in a million directions.
"I don't know what you mean." Caroline drains her glass and reaches towards the wine bottle to refill it. His hand beats her to it, but he doesn't remove his gaze from hers as he pours more into her glass. His eyes are burning her.
"Come on. You know exactly what I mean."
Caroline puffs her cheeks out. "I don't know, I just – thought it was time to take your words to heart."
Klaus hmms at her, but he's smiling, and his eyes look triumphant. They gleam with something that sends a shiver run down her spine. She sips her wine and looks anywhere but him.
She's licking a dollop of chocolate frosting from her spoon and Klaus is watching her hungrily. When her eyes close with a purr, he's ready to take her, right then. Does she not realize what she does to him? How much he aches for her?
Caroline catches him staring, and an alluring blush spreads across her cheeks. The beast within him growls in satisfaction.
"In the dream, you said you've…compelled me before?" Klaus drops his gaze to the table. "What did you mean?"
He picks up his glass, raising it to his lips. "You caught that, did you?"
She gives him her 'no duh' face. He's wishing he'd never said that; of course she caught it. Klaus stares at her contemplatively, sitting back in his chair.
"It was while I was borrowing the little vampire hunter's body. I used you to get information on Elena and her friends."
Caroline's gaze hardens, suddenly fierce. As much as he hates to have that look directed at him, he admires her spark. Ferocity suites her; her eyes are vibrant, cheeks glowing as the flush upon them deepens. Her scowl could rival his.
"When?" She insists. He rolls his eyes at her.
"The day of that dance. I met you in class and saw an opportunity."
Her face gets confused, as if she's thinking very hard, trying to remember something she never can. Not unless he allows it.
"I remember earlier that day, in class. That was you, when – you were…uhh, oh God, you were flirting with me?"
Klaus laughs, and reaches his hand out to touch hers briefly as she shovels more of the dessert they've been sharing onto her spoon. She drops the utensil and pulls her hand back; he sees that her fingers are shaking. "Yes," he agrees. "Even then." And he smiles.
He notices the smile that tries to tug at her own lips, the one that she stops just a second too late.
"So when did you compel me?"
"It was after school." She purses her lips, eyebrows furrowed.
"I want to remember." Of course you do, he thinks ruefully.
"I want to remember, you can't keep my memories from me, Klaus!"
He glares at her, petulant, frowning. "Aren't you on vervain?" He asks. She looks down, and he can hear her swallowing thickly.
"No," she whispers. Klaus blinks in surprise.
"You came here, to me, without any vervain?" Well, that's…unexpected. He can't imagine what it means.
"Yes," she whispers again, and her eyes close. "Stupid, right?"
"No," he disagrees, and when he reaches across for her hand again she doesn't retreat. "I'd say its progress." She won't look at him.
"Caroline." Her gaze stays carefully averted. "Caroline." He says again.
She finally looks up at him, straight into his eyes. They both know, in that instant, that he could compel her to do anything that he wishes. Anything at all.
He wonders when she started to trust him.
His lips part; she takes a deep breath. "You can remember," he whispers, and feels the intensity rush through him; the moment that, for just a brief second, they're connected. Her will is bound to him, only him, they're melded together and he can sense her so perfectly. There's nothing quite like compelling Caroline; he hadn't forgotten, from that first time, how her light touched him in that moment, lit him up from within and chased away the darkness. It's staggering, the feeling, as it sweeps through him. And then, as quickly as it came, it's over. She's blinking at him dazedly.
"You said I was beautiful." He lifts his brows at her, and she blushes again. "When I complained about never being good enough, that…no one would ever pick me first," she whispers, and her fingers squeeze around his. "You rolled your eyes at me and said –"
"To stop being ridiculous, because you're a beautiful woman," he finishes for her, rolling his eyes up with a little with a smile. "I seem to recall telling you this more than a handful of times."
"Yeah, but…even then, huh?"
Klaus' smile turns into a smirk. "I'll admit, back then I had other ideas for you in mind." Caroline frowns, tugging her hand away.
"No, love. I knew one of the Salvatore's would save you. Other things."
There's that delectable flush again, and it's creeping down her throat now as well; he wants to follow it with his tongue very badly. Caroline puffs her cheeks out, and he laughs.
"You're an ass." But she's smiling.
"Would you like to go for a walk?"
"No, just the hotel, please."
He looks disappointed, but refrains from comment. When they get to her room, he kisses her hand, like a gentleman, and turns to go.
Caroline grabs his arm.
"Would you…do you wanna come in?"
His breathing hitches, his eyes go dark; he's looking at her like he wants to devour her whole. A slow smile spreads across his face. Klaus steps closer, crowding her, and her back hits the door. He takes the key card from her hand before she can drop it, and slips it in the lock. Pushes the door open behind her; she stumbles into the room. Caroline grabs his collar, pulling him in after her.
He slams the door shut behind them, and then he's pressing her against it and his lips are so damn close. Klaus buries his hands in her hair, angling her head back, and she peers at him with heavily-lidded eyes, lashes fluttering.
"Caroline," he growls. "There'll be no going back after this. Once you are mine, you will always be mine. Always." She shivers at his words, at the burning intensity behind them, the honesty. And she knows, she knows that it's true. He will never let her go. His eyes are looking at her almost…threateningly; daring her. "Can you handle that, sweetheart?"
Oh, I can handle you all right; Caroline handles him with a kiss, and it's the only answer Klaus needs. Fiercely, passionately, she kisses him. Caroline shows him just how badly she burns for him, how badly she wants to be his. Always. She feels his fingers tightening in her hair, angling her head back further as he asserts his control.
And oh God. It's so different from that first kiss, that sweet chaste kiss that had left her so breathless. Now she pants heavily as his mouth devours her, hot and wet, and then his tongue is invading her mouth, sliding against hers and he's positively purring into her mouth. She growls wildly, running her fingers through his blonde curls, tugging him closer. Klaus groans and his hands are running down her sides, squeezing her bottom, hoisting her up until her legs wrap around his waist.
He slams her harder against the door, his hips nudging hers, and they both gasp at the pleasure. Caroline rips her hands through his shirt, shredding it, and scratches her nails down his chest. He growls, moving her to the side table near the door, one arm scooping the items atop it onto the floor and the other lifting her onto the table.
And then her dress is in shreds on the floor too. She huffs at him, and he grins wickedly as his hand runs over her bra. She whines and arches her back, pressing herself into his hand. She fumbles with his belt as he tongues a path down her throat and nips at the skin of her breast showing above the bra cup. Her shoes get kicked across the room, and then she's toeing his pants off. Caroline's panting grows heavier when she sees he's wearing nothing beneath them.
That's so – why is that so hot?
And then he's kissing her again, and she doesn't have the ability to think about anything else. She pushes him back and slips from the table, flashing quickly in front of him, forcing him to move backwards until he's falling against the bed, pulling her with him so she straddles his lap.
Klaus leans forward, tilting her back so he can kiss up her stomach, his hands dancing over her ribcage and then slipping around back to her bra clasp. "Caroline," he whispers reverently, and it feels like he's worshipping her as his mouth finds her breast, so hot against her skin, taking it into the warmth of his mouth and it's too much, she moans and grinds herself down against him and the sensation sends tingles and tendrils of warmth all through her. He makes an encouraging sound in the back of his throat, strangled sounding, thrusting up against her and then it's more than warmth; it's a fire, blazing and hot and wild, and she continues writhing against his lap as her fingers grip his hair firmly, holding him to her breast. Klaus growls, a completely animalistic sound that sends flurries through her stomach, and then he's wrapping an arm around Caroline to flip her onto her back, looming over her.
He rips her panties, and then, oh and then his hand is touching her – there. And its, oh God. "Klaus, please," she whines as she raises her hips, nudging upwards against his hand, his exquisite touch. His fingers torture her expertly, warm and soft against her; and then it's the heel of his hand, grinding against her center and she sees white behind her eyelids as she grasps his foreman, fingers clawing into the well-formed muscle; and then it's those dexterous fingers again, rubbing her tantalizingly as he mouths her earlobe, growling darkly and then calling her sweetheart, urging her; her legs start to shake as the pleasure rises inside of her.
Her own hand trails down his body, over the hard planes of his chest and the firm abdomen and lower until she's wrapping her fingers around him, bringing him closer, and he's hard and so ready, and he gasps at her touch. She throws her head back, closing her eyes expectantly, but his hand finds her chin and jerks her face back down, forcing her to look at him, and then Klaus thrusts inside of her as his eyes burn into hers and his hand curls around her flushed cheek.
She hooks a leg around his waist, raising her hips to match his thrusts, and she tries to look away because it's just too much, it's unbearable, but he won't let her. He stares down at her beneath his lashes, his eyes half shut. The heated look there sends tingles through her, flames down her body and centers in the place where they join. "Caroline," he breathes, his lips brushing hers as he speaks. She moans in response.
He whispers that she's beautiful as he thrusts inside of her, harder; passionately. He says she's the loveliest thing he's ever touched as his hand coasts down her thigh at his hip, and she sighs and melts against him. Klaus worships her, kisses her lips as he growls that she's his, and his eyes are still staring into hers even as their lips are pressed together, as if he just can't bear to look away. Caroline has never felt so connected, so warm and alive, in all of her existence.
"I think…you have…that backwards," she pants breathlessly as her fingernails dig into his shoulders roughly. He laughs softly against her throat and curls her other leg to rest over his forearm; she gasps, toes curling. "How's that, love?" His voice is a growl as their hips rock together, and something is building inside of her, inside of both of them, and it feels beautiful and whole, and she wraps her arms more tightly around him. "Because you're mine," Caroline growls, and he rumbles in response and thrusts against her even harder.
"Yes," Caroline cries as he starts to move his hips against her quicker, and it's almost animalistic now, the way he takes her, plunders her, teeth nipping at her neck and lips sucking her skin, and it's building higher and higher inside of her and coiling tightly and she's scraping her nails down his back and begging him, please, oh please, Klaus –
And then she shatters in his arms, her whole body shaking and she moans his name loudly and mouths his earlobe as an electrifying wave tingles through her and bursts against her. He exhales sharply when she pants into his ear, moaning, "Oh Klaus, that feels –" and then he's following her over the edge, helplessly, his fingers clawing into her hips as he wrenches her closer one last time.
Her body finally relaxes, tense muscles loosening, and she falls back against the bed limply. Klaus has his forehead pressed to hers as they both breathe heavily, their lips so close that they brush with each shaking breath. They're both trembling, bodies connected and flush together, and the feeling of oneness, of completion, dazzles Caroline. She feels…warm. Warmth, all over. There's a glow inside of her that's growing and growing, encompassing her; a beautiful light. And she understands what he'd meant now, about being full of light. But the light blankets both of them at that moment, and she smiles at the thought as Klaus runs his nose alongside hers.
As a vampire, her emotions, her deepest feelings and urges and longings, are heightened. But she has never felt so strongly before; she's not even sure she understands what she's feeling. Just a mix of things that should frighten her (and in a way they do) but that she finds herself accepting nonetheless. Contentment, joy so bright like shooting stars, a surge of fierceness and protectiveness, and at the same time a willingness to surrender, to be protected, anchored so wholly to Klaus and safe in his arms.
Eventually he rolls them over, tugging her with him as he lies on his back until she spills across his chest weakly. Caroline nuzzles her nose along his skin and kisses up his chest until her nose is buried against his throat. Klaus hmms, satiated, and his arm squeezes her side.
"I suppose I really didn't need separate rooms then, did I?"
Caroline smiles. "No. You didn't. Idiot."
She likes the way his laughter rumbles through his chest as she lays against it; all the warmth and light surrounding her seems to snuggle against her, and Caroline basks in the elation she feels as she slowly starts to drift.
Caroline doesn't get long to drift. She becomes aware, through a haze of sleep, that he's purring her name sensuously against her ear, fingers trailing across her body. As Caroline's eyes flutter, she feels his body roll over hers, settling between her thighs. She flushes and her breath quickens when she realizes he's hard, pressed fully against her, his hips nudging gently against hers. When she moans, shamelessly, she can almost sense Klaus' smirk even if she can't see it.
Klaus is moving down her body now, his breath is hot against her flesh and his tongue slides along her skin deliciously. She had only been sleeping for such a brief moment, it felt like. She thinks of chiding him exasperatedly; or coyly commenting on his insatiable need for her, but who is she to complain as he pleasures her breasts with his tongue? Or as his mouth goes further south, over her belly button, dipping into it teasingly as his hands continue to roll her erect nipples between his fingertips. She cries out as his tongue traces down lower, finding her center, sucking and teasing and stroking, his mouth exploring her the way he had wanted to earlier, but had been too impatient to in his need to have her.
She jerks against his lips helplessly, her back arched. Klaus' palms slide down her sides, flattening against her hips and holding her down firmly as he continues his sweet torture, and Caroline almost sobs when her release finally washes over her. She can feel the way his lips quirk up in a self-satisfied, smug smile as his lips kiss down her shaking limbs; his tongue is moist against her inner thigh, and then alongside her knee as he slowly rises, lifting her leg with him. Klaus kisses down her calf as she watches him with heavy-lidded eyes; his own eyes are shut, as if memorizing the feel of her, every touch, every sound.
When he kisses along the side of her foot, slowly, teasingly heading for her toes, Caroline giggles and her nose scrunches. But then Klaus sends her a heated look from beneath his lashes, and suddenly she's throbbing for him again, aching to have him inside of her, for that feeling of oneness that she has never, ever felt before. She sits up, pushing him back and straddling him almost instantly, and she grins down at him as she slowly takes him, filling herself until they are completely connected. Caroline sighs, tossing her hair back, and Klaus makes a wild sound in his throat, his eyes gleaming up at her.
Caroline rocks against him, tilting her head back as he braces himself up on his hands so that he can kiss along her throat. And it's torturously slow this time, as they explore each other with their hands and their mouths, learning everything they simply couldn't take the time to before. But the ending is the same, just as earth shattering, just as perfect. And she can't imagine, for the life of her, why it took so long to give into this. Because it isn't really giving in; it isn't submission, or betrayal, or any of the awful things she had imagined it would be like.
It's glorious and beautiful and she belongs. For the first time, she really belongs. With him. And he belongs with her.
~ Fin ~
* So...hmm? I have some other ideas for Klaroline, some that will be multi-chapter fics, and one in particular that I'm super excited, but if I'm complete trash at writing them then what's the point? Let me know! *