Klaroline Drabbles

82

It was lonely without Elena. She did her best to ignore it and make her college experience as fun as possible, but it turned out having a ‚suicide'-girl and a dropout as roommates wasn't that different from sharing a house with an absentee mother.
It was Friday and she was already done with all the work she was supposed to do on the weekend. She considered going back home for the weekend, but somehow she disliked the thought just as much as the idea of staying here alone.
She had wanted to get out of Mystic Falls and its daily dosage of supernatural disaster. And not only did that seem to have followed her to college, the fun part was also considerably smaller than she had expected.
She set down her bag and went through the letters she had just fished out of the mail.
Ad, bill, another ad, invitation, ad.
Wait-
She frowned, taking a closer look at the invitation she had received. It was an invitation to a charity event in New Orleans. On Saturday night. Oh.
It was printed, there was no personal message anywhere on it to be found.
But this had to be from Klaus.
She felt like she should be scoffing and dropping it in the waste bin, but a part of her decided that it wasn't necessary since nobody was watching, which in turn made her feel guilty about what that meant.
But, no- they were friends, right?
He'd set Tyler free and stopped messing with her friends. It was okay to be in some sort of contact with him, was it?
She scoffed, shaking her head, and sat down on her bed.
Why would she even want to go to some charity ball in New Orleans?
She gulped, staring down at the invitation.
The truth was, that she had felt her heart jumping in her chest the moment she found the card. She wanted to get out of here, at least for the weekend.
And the image of Klaus looking at her, well, the way he usually looked at her, had flashed through her head despite her control. It was a much nicer prospect to be at some charity ball (she loved charity events, she'd planned more than enough herself, and balls, well, the little princess in her was basically squealing in her head), than spend the weekend here, alone, with nothing to do, or in Mystic Falls, with Elena and Damon making out in every possible spot as if they were trying to impress someone.
She looked away, taking a deep breath.
She shouldn't be doing this. She was still with Tyler.
She pulled out her phone and dialed his number. She waited until his mailbox took her call, then she hung up. Suddenly, she felt angry.
If he was here, she wouldn't even feel the need to go there at all. He had left her alone here.
She could as well go. As Klaus' friend.
They were friends, and she would make sure he wouldn't misinterpret her presence, just as she always did. And she really had no interest whatsoever in him, this was not only to please her guilty conscience, not at all.
They were friends and she was bored and lonely for the heck of it, so there was really nothing rational found to be wrong with going there.
Rebekah and Klaus were watching Marcel and Camille dance, each with their own worries and plans working in the back of their minds. Rebekah could hear every single word Marcel told Camille and she scoffed, turning her head away in annoyance.
Suddenly, something familiar caught her eyes. She gaped in a mixture of disgust and shock.
"What is she doing here?" she exclaimed, and Klaus eyes lazily followed where she was looking.
His face froze to a mask of stone, as he saw what she was referring to.
Never, in his whole eternal existence, had he wished for telepathic abilities more than now.
She shouldn't be here.
Caroline, here, in the midst of almost all of Marcel's vampires, in plain sight of Marcel himself.
He couldn't imagine a more dreadful scenario if he tried.
She was stunningly beautiful, as usual, but the fact that he hadn't seen her for some time and the tight, black cocktail dress that she was wearing made her seem even more radiant than he remembered. So radiant that he couldn't understand why she didn't have every head in the room turning into her direction. It was as if she was serving herself on a platter, for everyone to see.
His one, his only real weakness, right in the epicenter of the complex, dangerous battle he was waging.
He wanted to kill everyone present in the ball hall. But he couldn't.
She was smiling at him, on her way to him, like a catastrophe he couldn't evade. She would let everyone know that she was connected to him and, without her knowing, make herself the perfect target in a bloody war.
"I'm gonna take care of it," Rebekah said, interpreted her brothers temporary paralysis correctly.
He nodded courtly, as he tried to look as casual as possible.
It was bad enough if she was associated with one original, but better Rebekah than him. Damage control. His insides were still frozen in shock and he was flooded by an amount of fear unknown to him.
Rebekah quickly made her way to Caroline and grabbed her hand, not in an aggressive manner, but as if the two of them were friends. "Let me show you something outside," Rebekah chimed, turning to lead Caroline outside, tugging at her arm.
"Rebekah, what-" Caroline asked, irritated and annoyed.
Klaus felt something turn in his stomach at the sound of her voice.
He'd do anything to keep her safe right now. He prayed to a god he didn't believe in to get her to not make a scene out of this.
Fortunately, Caroline followed Rebekah outside without another word.
He waited for two long minutes, the longest of his life, while trying to look as casual and bored as possible. Marcel's eyes were fixed on Cami, there was no sign that he had noticed Rebekah's disappearance.
Slowly, Klaus made his way outside, trying not to attract the attention of any of Marcel's lackeys.
If it wasn't even too bloody late now.
He found them outside, a few blocks away, and her head turned towards him angrily, the minute he arrived.
"Klaus, can you please explain to me what this is supposed to mean?" she snapped, disappointment and rage in her voice.
"You go back to the party, Rebekah," he quickly said to his sister, who rolled her eyes and then flashed away.
"Klaus!" Caroline exclaimed, looking at him as if she couldn't believe what was happening.
"Not here, love," he said, trying to get his rage under control, and stepped forward, placing one hand on her waist and the other on her shoulder.
Her eyes widened. "Hold on," he commanded, and then flashed off with her.
He brought her to his secret hideout. Another house he had had spelled invisible back before he had had to flee New Orleans a long time ago. Marcel didn't know of this place, no one knew.
He had made a habit of keeping such a place in every place he stayed when he was still running from his father.
When they were inside, he let go of her, missing the proximity of her body next to his the second he did, his palms still burning from the contact.
"Klaus, what the hell?" she yelled, angrily.
He sighed, placing his fingers on his forehead as he tried to calm down the furious rage boiling in his insides before he answered her.
"Klaus!" she exclaimed again, shaking her head in angry disbelief.
He took a deep breath. "What are you doing here?" he asked her, his voice calm but carrying a cold fury in them.
She gasped and for a second he was a flash of hurt in her eyes, making him want to rip his own eyes out. "You invited me?" she answered, her voice shaking.
His eyes widened in shock. Someone knew. Someone knew about her.
A moment of silence, and he snapped, turning around and punching a hole into the wall behind him in vampire speed. This shouldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.
"Klaus, what's going on?" she asked, her voice now slightly panic-stricken.
He took a deep calming breath, closing his eyes for a moment, then pulled his fist out of the wall and turned to face her again.
"I did not invite you," he said, keeping his voice as calm as possible.
She just stared back at him, her eyes wide in disbelief and hurt.
He fought the urge to ransack the whole house.
"Caroline, I need to you to tell me how you believe I invited you," he said, the anger still raging in his insides.
"You... You send me an invitation. I- Klaus, if this is supposed to be a joke-" her voice was considerably smaller, but she still clearly pronounced her anger.
He shook his head. "Trust me, love, it's anything but."
He took another deep breath. "Someone else invited you. Someone who wanted you to believe that it was me who invited you. And that means someone knows of you."
She blinked, staring at him in confusion. "What? What's so bad about someone knowing of me? Are you now... I don't know, suddenly ashamed to be seen with me, or something? Because, I'm telling you-" her voice rose again.
He let out a dry laugh, looking back at her in disbelief.
How could that even be a possible explanation in her mind.
"No, no," he said reassuringly as he saw the look on her face. "It's-"
He took a deep breath, trying to gather his senses with the mix of anger and a sense of surrealism that were raging in him. He wasn't used to being so afraid to lose something. Not since the night that he almost lost her. And that again made him feel weak, fueling the anger he was feeling.
He wouldn't take it out on her, of all people, never again.
For some reason, even now as his biggest fears in relation to letting her take this position in his life, seemed to be coming true, he couldn't bear the thought of ridding himself of her.
Never.
In the face of her image, standing right in front of him, looking at him with hurt and accusation in her eyes, every other of his interests lost its meaning. He was weak, yes, but she was beautiful.
"I am waging a war here," he finally explained. "A bloody one. And if anyone learns about you they are going to use you against me. And I can't let that happen." He spoke slowly, as if to accentuate the weight of his words.
Her face fell.
"Oh," she finally uttered.
He licked his lips, closing his eyes for a short moment. "And now it seems like somebody already is," he continued, between clenched teeth, his gaze flickering through the room.
The expression on her face turned bitter, frustrated as she let out an ironic laugh.
"This has got to be a joke," she cursed. "You gotta be fucking kidding me!" she exclaimed, throwing out her arms in desperation.
"Unfortunately, it's not."
She scoffed. "Great. I'm leaving. I don't even know why I came here anyway." She turned to leave, but he quickly caught her arm.
"No," he commanded, his face serious again. "I can't let you leave now, you'd be putting yourself in danger. If someone tries to use you against me, I can't have you go out there again."
Her mouth fell open in shock, then, suddenly, the anger returned to her face, more vivid than before.
"You can't be serious! YOU CAN'T BE! I was finally fucking DONE with all of this supernatural bullshit! I HAVE A COLLEGE TO GET BACK TO!"
He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from yelling at her.
"I can't let you make yourself a moving target," he courtly answered, his teeth clenched.
She ripped her arm out of his grasp and took a few steps, turning away from him and raising her hands to her forehead.
He couldn't help but let his gaze flicker over her silhouette. This was definitely not the right moment to be admiring the way her dress stretched over her backside, revealing a pair of perfect long legs underneath it.
"Fuck," she let out, her voice now less angry, but not less frustrated.
"I had this house put under a protective spell," he said. "It is hidden from view and no one knows of it but me. If you stay here you will be safer than anywhere else."
She didn't react.
"Caroline," he began taking a step towards her.
She shook her head, still turned away from him. "Fine," she quipped.
There was a moment of silence as relief flooded him. At least she was somewhat safe. For now.
"Caroline," he finally began again. "I need to get back there. There is a plan in motion that I need to attend to."
She let out another dry laugh. "Sure," she uttered, ironically.
He took a few steps so that he was standing in front of her, searching her gaze.
She scoffed, stoically looking away at first, but then allowed herself to meet his eyes.
As their gazes connected he felt that familiar feeling, brewing in his chest, the feeling he got every time he saw her or thought of her. Love. He wasn't exactly comfortable with naming it for what it was, but he was past the phase of acceptance.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice soft now, and he meant it.
Sometimes he didn't recognize himself when he was with her.
"Can I trust you to keep yourself safe and stay here?" he asked, not taking his eyes off hers.
The hurt and the frustration he saw in them, as well as the special something that always emerged in them when she was looking at him, made his anger flare up again. Anger, mostly at himself.
For being reduced to the desire to make that look leave her eyes as soon as possible, the desire to see her happy. For not being able to keep her safe. For placing her in danger because of his selfish desire to make her his. For her causing him to curse his selfishness after a thousand years of egocentrism.
"Yes," she sighed, looking away.
He kept searching her gaze for a moment more.
Then he flashed away.
He returned when the plan had been perfectly executed.
As planned, he turned out as the hero of the day and Marcel had promised him Elijah in return.
He'd be basking in his victory, if the threat of someone planning to harm Caroline didn't hang in the back of his head. The prospect of seeing her again tonight, though, caused a whole different kind of emotion and he cursed himself for his sentimentality.
He found her in the living room, half lying half sitting on the sofa. She had taken off her shoes, carelessly leaving them lying on the floor beside her sofa and she had found a bottle of bourbon that she was almost done consuming now.
Her hair was slightly messy and he could see some of the skin and the fabric underneath her skirt.
His body reacted almost immediately and he forced himself to look away.
She was clearly too drunk to care about what kind of enticing sight she presented to him, looking up at him in frustration. She was almost pouting.
He stood there for a moment, his mouth dry, trying to get his bodily functions in control and then sat down on the sofa across from her, placing his hands in his lap in an attempt to hide his obvious reaction.
"You sure as hell took your time," she moaned, taking a sip of the bottle she was clutching to.
He raised his eyebrows. "I apologize. But it seems you found a way to entertain yourself."
Somehow the weight of the situation had fallen off his shoulders almost entirely. Although he knew better, he was glad he had her here.
She sighed, her gaze growing vacant for a moment. "I should be doing this in college, you know," she let out, sadness evident in her voice.
He frowned. "I am sorry for the inconvenience," he began.
She shook her head. "It's not your fault. I'm not having fun there anyway."
Well, that was new information.
"Why?" he asked.
She sighed again, letting her head fall back onto the armrest of the sofa, pulling both of her legs onto the sofa. "Bonnie is off traveling the world, Elena had to leave because - surprise - Damon can't be trusted with Jeremy and-"
She paused, her gaze growing visibly sadder. "Tyler didn't even come."
Her voice was small and he reacted with another flash of anger.
He wanted to kill Tyler for causing this kind of hurt to her. But he was very well aware of the fact that that wouldn't exactly help his case.
"Is that why you came here?" he asked, his voice soft.
She nodded.
"It was a stupid idea. Very stupid," she admitted, pouting again. He noted that she was unbearably adorable when drunk.
"Why?" he asked, leaning forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He couldn't help it, he just wanted to get closer to her somehow.
She snorted. "And that..." she turned her head, looking at him with playful mischief. "Was a stupid question."
He felt a pull in his stomach. No, he shouldn't misinterpret this.
Not that he doubted that she would someday choose him, that was just a matter of time. But experience had taught him that in her case hope was a painful thing, leading to disappointment in the majority of cases.
"You're an ass," she stated, then took another sip of her drink.
He raised his eyebrows at that. "Am I? Care to elaborate why?"
She laughed, turning her head back to him, now looking more carefree than before. A sight that made his heart swell. "Do you want the whole list? That's gonna take ages," she quipped, still smirking at him.
He laughed, shaking his head. "No, I think we've been through that enough."
She laughed again, raising the almost empty battle to her lips again.
He licked his own, unable to keep his eyes of the way she drank.
He coughed. "Haven't you had enough, love?"
She let out a dry laugh. "It's not like I'm gonna get a hangover."
He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement. "True."
She yawned, stretching her arms above her head, her décolleté being slightly stretched by the motion.
Inwardly he cursed himself. He would not take advantage of her in this situation.
But he could not recall a situation in which she'd presented herself to him in such a careless manner. He was positive it was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.
Well, apart from the incident in the woods, where he had been in Tyler's body, but that was whole different memory he did not want to recall right now if he planned on getting his faculties under control.
"Why did you come here?" he asked, genuinely curious. Yes, she'd gotten an invitation, but he wouldn't have estimated that she would actually consider reacting to something like this.
"I got an invitation", she quipped, slight annoyance in her voice.
"I know," he responded, softly. "But why did you react to it?"
Maybe he shouldn't be asking her this while she was drunk but his chest already tingled in excitement. He knew she wasn't satisfied with her 'college experience' and it was something he did not like, despite the fact that it had driven her to him.
"Maybe I wanted to see you," she said, not looking at him, her voice soft and very much unlike non-drunk Caroline.
His eyes widened and his face froze. His heartbeat sped up and he had to keep the excitement from his face, grinning slightly.
"Is that so?" he asked, unable to keep the delight out of his voice.
She turned her head towards the backrest. "Nope!" she quipped, half jokingly and he felt his heart melt. She yawned again and snuggled up a little as if she was getting ready to sleep.
"You don't have to sleep there, you know," he said. "I've god beds."
There was a moment of silence.
"If you think I'm gonna sleep in one bed with you, you're wrong," she quipped, her voice slightly strained, her back still turned to him.
He felt his heart jump in his chest again. She was going to drive him crazy. He'd have to try hard to keep himself in check.
"Never assumed that, love," he answered, trying to keep his excitement from his voice.
After another moment of silence, she sighed and turned around, sitting up.
Her hair fell down back over her shoulder, a golden cascade of perfect curls he wanted to run his hands through.
"Lead the way," she ordered and got up on her feet, taking a few shaky steps towards the door.
He was beside her quickly.
She swayed a little and almost fell over her feet, her hand resting on her forehead.
He caught her, his hand on her waist, and she giggled.
"Whoops," she uttered and then stated "I'm drunk".
"I'm aware," he answered, nodding and smirking at her.
She laughed, then took a step out of his proximity, turning to grin at him.
"But I am also..." she began, looking at him with playful mischief again. "A vampire."
A raised his eyebrows, waiting for her point.
A wide, carefree grin spread on her face. "Catch me," she ordered, and then promptly flashed up the stairs.
He let out a surprised breath, frowning unable to comprehend his luck and then followed her.
She was up in one of the bedrooms, still running and he caught her near the window, his hands wrapping around her waist once again.
She giggled, her hands on his chest and her hair in her face.
He looked down at her, smiling and found himself in another one of these moments where he felt like he wasn't even himself. What was she doing to him?
She looked up at him, grinning and licked her lips. Her cheeks were reddened and the dazed look in her eyes was evidence of her intoxication.
"You're too fast," she complained.
"Well," he answered. "I'm a hybrid. An original one."
She rolled her eyes. "Showoff."
He smirked, raising his eyebrows.
She kept looking up at him, and slowly, her gaze turned less playful and more serious.
For a moment there he wondered, whether he had gone too far. She was clearly drunk.
And as he was very aware of, he still had his hands on her body.
But as usual, it proved to be incredibly difficult to break their eye contact. Just a moment more.
And then suddenly, the moment was over, and her lips were on his.
He froze, his eyes widening. She had hers closed, her sweet lips moving on his. He lost it.
Growling, he responded, drawing her closer to him and she gasped. Their tongues found each other and her hands found the back of his head as he buried one of his in her curls.
The kiss tasted like bourbon and Caroline, something he hadn't expected to taste again anytime soon. His mind was in a daze as if he was drunk himself, drunk of her and for a moment all thoughts fled his mind, except for the taste of her and images of things he would do to her.
He felt her warm body pressing up against his, her breasts pressed against his chest, her fingers in his hair. Her sweet, soft lips and her tongue against his, kissing him with the same heated passion that had overwhelmed him.
She was here. In his arms.
And she was drunk.
Like a cold shower, he realized what he was doing. If he would take advantage of her now, she would never forgive him. He'd risk her regretting this and that was something he wanted to prevent at all cost. No, if he would have her, he wanted her completely, not in the course of something she would see as a mistake.
He drew back, pushing her away as gently as he could.
They were both breathless and she stared up at him in confusion and dizziness. Her lips were red, flushed, her hair even more tussled than before and he gulped, closing his eyes for a moment.
"You're drunk," he finally said, between clenched teeth. "Sleep," he ordered, completely letting go of her.
She frowned as slowly reality hit her. She gasped, looking down and he let out a frustrated breath, looking away.
"I-" she began.
"Let's talk tomorrow," he said, softly, looking at her again.
She gulped, then nodded, still evading his gaze.
He turned to leave the room and he heard her shuffling towards the bed.
When he closed the door he took one last look at her, making herself comfortable under the covers.
He took a few calming breaths as he made his way through the hallway.
He would need a long cold shower now.