a/n: this is for the damon to my alaric, the beautiful alz. i hope you enjoy this immensely and that it lives up to your high expectations created by recent hot hybrid sex. love you to the end of time, darling.


Klaus Mikaelson spends his whole life with cerulean smeared across his arms and his mind lost somewhere in between charcoal figures and colour pallets and so, it comes as no surprise when he runs away to New York at age eighteen to become an artist.

The thought of buildings that clamber to the sky and studio flats that stare out over every intimate corner of the city fill Klaus with a kind of hope. A happiness that he thinks he can convert into acrylic and success. It fills him with the idea that the want to have his name in lights is utterly tangible.

This is what the city is to him.

.

When it comes to picking her major, Caroline realises that the two things she's best at are pretending to be the perfect girl she's not and putting on a façade. It seems only sensible, therefore, to pick Drama as her major.

She's completely ready and enrolled at Whitmore College, when Tyler whispers "it's over" and everyone seems set on watching her fall and Caroline feels like she may suffocate if she doesn't get the hell out of Mystic Falls. So, Caroline drops out of Whitmore and becomes a successful late admission to a drama school in New York, before packing her bag and jumping on the train to the city.

As soon as she steps out of the station, Caroline falls instantly in love. There's something about the glinting grey paving stones and the silver river of cars snaking down the street that tells Caroline she's surely going to find herself here.

This is what the city is for her.

.

One year after her arrival, in early summer, Caroline finds herself sitting in the window of her best friend's coffee shop, in downtown New York.

"So, this artist came into the shop this morning," Stefan says, handing her a latte, "nice guy. He's done a couple of paintings for the café."

"You're not trying to set me up again, are you?" she narrows her eyes accusingly.

"No, of course not, I learnt my lesson last time. Believe me," Stefan laughs, "he's looking for a painter's model actually. You said you were looking for a bit of extra cash. I thought it'd be right up your street."

"Money, I could do with. Modelling for some unknown, crummy artist, however, is not really how I'd like to arrive there."

"Unknown, I'll give you. But crummy? This guy is amazing – you haven't seen any of his work, I don't know where you got that from. Let me show you," Stefan says, in a matter of fact tone, leading her behind the till.

"Anyone who feels the need to advertise in an independent coffee shop goes down as crummy in my book," Caroline mock grumbles, whilst following Stefan into the back room of his coffee shop.

Stefan leans over and pulls off a plastic sheet, revealing a large canvas smeared in paint. Stefan is blocking the way as he adjusts the angle and she can only see the corner of a grey shape which must surely be the edge of a building. Stefan steps back.

Caroline hears herself gasping.

This guy has painted New York City at morning. What should surely be clichéd and stereotypical like so many of these kinds of painting usually are, but this is the exception. This is breath-taking. There's something about the painted chasms of golden light that refract off the glass windows and the shafts of glistening skyscrapers that tugs at her heartstrings. He has painted her New York. The New York that she sees between the crowds of tourists and signposts.

She turns to Stefan, eyes widened, who is looking at her with a smug smile on his face.

"What's his name?" Caroline whispers.

"Klaus."

.

"Come on Caroline. What's stopping you? It's summer, you don't have to go to college. You're single. Your college friends are all going back home. You have nothing to do. It's perfect," Elena says, her voice muffled due to the hundreds of miles and a crappy cell phone connection between them.

"But– "

"No buts. From the sound of it, he's good. You have nothing to lose!"

"I suppose so…" Caroline says reluctantly.

"There ya go! It's perfect. You will ring him up today and tell him you're going to do it," Elena says sternly, before laughing. "So, how are you? How's Stefan?"

"I'm good. So is Stefan, his café is doing really well," Caroline says absentmindedly, fiddling with her hair, "how are you? How's Damon?"

"I'm excellent. Damon's well… Damon. Gorgeous, charming, etcetera," Elena laughs, before her tone becomes more serious. "Listen. Are you coming home any time soon?"

There is a long, heavy pause.

"Maybe," Caroline replies.

She hopes that Elena understands that her reluctance means no.

.

It is eleven am when Klaus awakes to the stark sunlight streaming through his window pane. Clearly, he was in such a state that he forgot to close the blinds last night. That fourth tumbler of whiskey had seemed like a really good idea last night, when Elijah began lamenting on his latest love and Rebekah wrapped herself around some blond piece of muscle in a dark corner of the bar, but now, he was most certainly paying for it.

Half asleep with his eyes narrowed against the bright light, Klaus stumbles into his kitchen and pours himself a much needed glass of water and a couple of headache tablets, in a desperate attempt to try and alleviate his hangover.

Thirstily gulping down his water, Klaus leans against the counter and contemplates the day ahead of him. Spend the day painting in the small studio he rents two blocks away, or going back to bed and sleeping until he feels marginally better. Deciding that the latter option is the most appealing at present, Klaus is about to head back to his bed, when the buzzing of his phone distracts him.

Klaus fumbles around the kitchen table and finally locates it beneath a stack of pencil sketches. An unknown number flashes up on the Caller ID and Klaus presses the accept call button.

"Hello?" he mumbles, as he tries to reorganise the stacks of paper he has just dislodged.

"Hi, is this Klaus Mikaelson?" a perky voice sounds from the other end of the line.

"It is indeed, love, and who might I be speaking to?" he replies, shutting his eyes and hoping he can shortly return to the haven of his bed.

"Caroline, Caroline Forbes. I'd like to talk to you about the advertisement for a painter's model."

.

"So, um, what exactly are you looking for?" Caroline asks, as she stares around Klaus' apartment. It is a typical artist's apartment, she thinks to herself, as she gazes at the half-finished drawings and paintbrushes piled up on every available surface.

Klaus walks across the flat and gestures for Caroline to follow. She obliges, and Klaus opens up a wooden door to a completely white, nearly empty room which must act as a makeshift studio. It has two stools, a couple of industrial looking lights and, much to Caroline's pleasure, a small window that stares out over Klaus' typical New York street.

Gesturing for Caroline to sit down, Klaus begins to fiddle with the lights. "I want to do a modern reworking of the poem 'La Belle Dame Sans Merci,'" he quotes, "'I see a lily on thy brow, with anguish moist and fever dew.'"

"'And on thy cheeks a fading rose, fast withereth too,'" Caroline continues.

Klaus' eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You know Keats?" he asks.

Caroline nods in assent.

"You don't really seem like a Keats kind of girl, love," Klaus says, smiling at her.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Caroline says, smiling at him.

Klaus turns to look at her and Caroline feels as though his eyes are boring into her soul, into her very heart and seeing all the little fissures that Tyler left when he ran off with that Hayley chick and all the wasted hope and energy she has put into people that constantly let her down.

"I bet I don't," Klaus replies and Caroline can't help but feel that she kind of maybe wants him to know.

.

Half an hour in, Caroline is sat on the stool staring peacefully out of the window as Klaus furiously scribbles some preliminary sketches, when he interrupts the comfortable silence between them. "Tell me about yourself," he says.

"There's not really much to tell," Caroline replies, taken aback by his openness.

"Go on. There must be something," Klaus says, staring at her such a way that it sends her heart into a frenzy.

"I'm from a small town in Virginia called Mystic Falls. I've lived there all my life. Once you're born into Mystic Falls, you can never get out. I'm the exception - I came to New York about a year ago on a whim. I'm a Drama major," Caroline pauses, "now, tell me about you."

"I'm from England, originally, but my family and I moved to Minnesota when I was ten. I have four siblings. I miss England enormously. I came to New York to be an artist two years ago and I haven't looked back since. I don't go to college, my parents kind of fund my lifestyle over here. They'll stop as soon as they give up hope on me ever becoming a success."

Caroline snorts, "you? Not a success? You've got to be kidding me! You're incredible."

"Me, love? I am sincerely flattered," he smirks.

"Seriously. Stefan showed me the painting you did for the café. Of New York? That's why I phoned you up. It felt so from the heart and raw. Cityscapes are usually hopelessly clichéd. You managed to capture the essence of the city. It reminded me why I love the city so much," Caroline says, before colour rises to her cheeks as she realises the true extent of what she has said.

Klaus shoots her a smile that feels so genuine and warm that she is taken aback by how much of a connection she feels to this near stranger.

"Thank you," he says quietly, and the way his eyes light up with her praise makes her feel like complimenting him forever.

.

It is early evening when Caroline leaves, bidding him goodbye and promising to see him tomorrow.

As she leaves his apartment building, Klaus goes to the window that overlooks his street and watches her silhouette make its way along the pavement shrouded in elongated shadows and glimmers of urban, artificial light and he wonders what her true motives for coming to the city were. Is she truly driven by the thought of attainable success, or is it something more?

Klaus can't help but wonder and as he does so, he realises suddenly that he can't wait for tomorrow.

.

Somewhere in between the conversation that flows so easily between them and Klaus' utter devotion to recording her every feature in all its glory, they manage to form some kind of routine.

She arrives, he paints and they chat. They talk of meaningless things, like their favourite foods or childhood games but sometimes, they delve into more intimate matters, all the time dancing around the doubt over why whenever she smiles, Klaus' heart races in his chest or why her pulse beats faster with every second glance he sends her way.

And, most of all, they try and ignore the feeling that with every word they speak to each other, the stars above feel like they're aligning.

.

One day, as Klaus is bent over his sketchpad covering the paper with elegant lines of graphite; he turns to Caroline and asks her about her dreams.

She falters for a moment, before describing the mentality of the small town she grew up – how Mystic Falls' borders were the extent of the world and why would you ever want to roam any further than the safe perimeter forest when you had everyone you held dearest between its edges. She tells him how she never believed in this and how she spent her entire life wanting to run across continents and to see the whole goddamned world. She tells Klaus that she wants to know what the world looks like from the top of the Alps and how the air tastes when you've seen it all.

She then turns to Klaus and asks him about his.

Klaus describes his early life in England, of exploring the woods behind his house and the beauty of the rolling green hills he could see from his bedroom window and then he tells her that he wants to go and visit it again one day, before returning to New York. It's funny, he says, but his heart has been claimed by this city and he feels like it's his home, but he can't help but want to go back and remember what it was like to be young and carefree again.

She's never seen him look as alive as he does when he speaks of the city and everything it means to him, and Caroline's pulse races as she sees the rapture in his eyes.

When he has finished speaking, Klaus shoots her a warm, hopelessly intimate smile and Caroline realises that he probably hasn't ever told anyone quite the sum of his love for the city.

She wonders if it will unite them as well.

She hopes it will.

.

A few weeks later, Klaus is absorbed in painting one of Caroline's cheekbones when she blurts out something that has been playing on her mind since they first met.

"You've dedicated your whole life to acrylic and canvas, but what about love?" she asks, as her heart races in her chest.

Klaus pauses for a moment, clearly flummoxed, before answering. "I've had a fair number of relationships, but nothing really serious. I've always been more interested in painting and pursuing ambitions than girls, to be honest," Klaus shrugs, "what about you? There must be some wild heart burning within the elusive Caroline Forbes."

Caroline stops dead in her tracks. She knows that she should have expected him to ask her, but it doesn't mean she is prepared for it. She hasn't really spoken about him since she came to New York.

"I-I guess I'm too naïve," she begins shakily, "I fell in love too young and too deep. This boy from back in Virginia, called Tyler. We dated for two years and I sort of gave him my everything. I changed who I was for him, in a way and I was heartbreakingly in love with him. Just after graduation, he broke up with me. He'd met another girl and ran off with her, so I ran off to New York instead."

She doesn't realise it until she feels Klaus' arms wrap around her, but she must be crying. She has tried so hard to forget about Tyler in the past year and talking of him and Hayley brings every feeling of regret, betrayal and heartbreak back, until Caroline swears she's drowning in it.

But Klaus is there, holding her in his arms and whispering comforting words in her ear. He is holding her afloat and she clings on to him as though she is a drowning man and he is her life raft.

Once Caroline has composed herself, Klaus holds her tighter. "Listen to me, Caroline Forbes," he says softly to her, "you are wonderful, love, and this Tyler boy sounds like an absolute idiot for running off with some other girl. He was foolish for doing that and you deserve so much better."

"Thank you," Caroline replies, as they stand embracing each other in silence.

In that moment, she is infinitely happy that Klaus is with her because, as she stands encircled in his strong, paint-smeared arms, with her head pressed against his beating heart, it sort of feels like coming home.

.

"I have a proposition for you," Klaus says, as he enters the studio where Caroline is already sat.

"What is it?" Caroline asks, smiling at him.

"There's this small gallery uptown and they're having an exhibition in a couple of weeks. They've asked to showcase some of my work," Klaus says.

"That's brilliant!" Caroline exclaims, before narrowing her eyes, "hold on. What is your proposition?"

Klaus flashes her a charming smile. "Simple. You come with me to the show and then you can see the painting."

"Why can't I see it before then?" Caroline mock-pouts, trying to sneakily glance at the massive canvas Klaus is clutching.

"That, love, would undermine the very nature of what a surprise is. Does this mean you'll come?"

"Of course I'll go with you."

"I'll meet you there at seven. Next Friday," Klaus says, "wear something pretty, love."

Klaus smiles one of those heart wrenching smiles and settles down on the stool and Caroline is so goddamned happy she ever responded to that advertisement.

.

The night of the art show rolls around a lot faster than Caroline anticipated. One moment, she is smiling at Klaus and agreeing to go and the next, she is standing in her bedroom in her underwear at half five, making a panicked phone call to Elena.

"I don't know what to wear! How dressy or casual should you be for an independent art show? Why is there no handbook for this kind of thing?" Caroline grumbles into the phone, flinging open her wardrobe doors for the fifteen hundredth time this evening.

"I have absolutely no idea, Caroline. I don't really frequent art shows myself, to be honest," Elena says, "just pick something out. It's no big deal."

"But I really want to look nice!" Caroline moans, flipping through her potential outfits.

"It's not a big deal, it's only–" Elena pauses mid-sentence, "wait a moment! The artist, Klaus, you like him don't you?"

"What n–" Caroline is interrupted by Elena's excited squeals.

"You totally like him! I knew it! I knew there was more to it!" Elena says triumphantly as Caroline stands stock still in her bedroom.

She hasn't really considered it, to be honest. All she knows is that when he smiles at her, her heartbeat speeds up and that subconsciously, she wants to impress him. She hasn't thought about it until now, but slowly all the puzzle pieces slip into place.

She, Caroline Forbes, likes Klaus.

Elena is still babbling excitedly about outfit choices and a bet with Damon, but Caroline is utterly distracted. Somehow, she fell in love with the ideal of the city that she and Klaus shared and somewhere along the line, she fell in love with him as well.

Caroline feels her heart pound in her chest with anticipation and she feels the anticipation in the air and she wonders if this is the night that her life changes for the better.

She can't help but feel like it might.

.

Upon entering the gallery, Caroline is stunned by the sheer number of people wandering the room in front of her. Klaus had told her that there would probably be a lot of people here, but she hadn't expected this many.

Klaus. If the clock on her phone was right, she was ten minutes early and he would be here very soon. Her bones tingle with nervousness, as she turns around the room to go and start observing all the artwork.

She is turning around when she notices a large painting hanging on the wall. Caroline can see the glint of a blue eye and a strand of long, curly blonde hair before she stops dead in her tracks.

.

It is her, standing in acrylic glory, but it isn't her at the same time.

Of course, she can see herself within the tilt of her lips and the pale skin, but there is something about the look in her eyes and the way she holds herself that makes this figure of her, this figure of her with a flowing white dress and flowers weaved through her long hair look ethereal and beautiful. Klaus has managed to make her look stunning, yet like her at the same time.

The painting is absolutely extraordinary and it truly is no wonder that a small crowd has gathered underneath the work of art to admire it. Moving closer, Caroline sees the title and the artist's name printed underneath, which is placed next to a couple of simple pencil sketches of her.

"Do you like it?" a soft voice murmurs in the shell of her ear, causing a tingle of excitement to run down Caroline's spine.

"Klaus," she breathes, "it's stunning. It's perfect. You've made me look impossibly beautiful."

Pride and joy is etched across every feature of Klaus' face. "You are beautiful," he replies.

"Not in this way," Caroline breathes, still in awe.

"I painted you from my heart. This is how I see you," he shrugs, before continuing, "and may I just say, you look beautiful tonight."

Caroline blushes with happiness, "thank you, Klaus," she says. "You look dashing yourself."

"Why thank you," Klaus replies, and it is clear from his expression that he feels nothing but happiness.

They exchange another one of those loaded looks and Caroline wishes she could interpret what they mean. She wishes her eyes could sear through the layers of sinew and flesh and see the glorious heart that beats underneath it all. She wishes she could feel whether his heart speeds up whenever she smiles at him and she wishes that he could see just how grateful she feels for his very existence.

"Fancy taking a look round with me?" Klaus asks, extending an arm to her.

"Always," she replies.

.

Later that evening, Caroline enters the bar she has agreed to meet Klaus in, whilst he talks to the event organisers. Her mind is still lost somewhere between her face painted in exquisitely swirling acrylic and the tingle of her spine as Klaus leant in, whispering into the very shell of her ear.

Absentmindedly, she wanders over to the barman and is about to order herself a highly sugary, highly alcoholic drink to at least attempt to ease her confusion, when a female voice clears her throat directly behind her. Caroline swivels around and is confronted with a young man and a woman, both highly beautiful and wealthy looking, strangely familiar, and both staring at her with their jaws wide open.

"Yes?" Caroline asks, apprehensively wondering if she's done something to offend them.

"You're Caroline aren't you? Klaus' model?" the woman asks in an English accent, running a hand through her long, blonde hair.

"Yeah, I'm Caroline. Were you at the show?" Caroline replies, a smile forming at her lips as she tries to place them. A memory of the pair of them staring up appreciatively at one of Klaus' landscapes flits across Caroline's mind. The paintings in question were a simple series of watercolour sketches, based around the woods near his childhood home in England and Caroline remembers the passion of which Klaus spoke of this haven, the way his eyes lit up so passionately as he reminisced about "my first place of tranquillity, love" and the adorable smile that crept onto his face as he described days spent climbing trees and-

The woman's voice jerks Caroline back into reality. "Yes, we were. I'm Rebekah," she smiles, "and this is Elijah," she says, gesturing to the man standing beside her, who smiles and nods his head.

"Oh! You're Klaus' siblings!" Caroline finally realises, remembering that Elijah is the gentleman and Rebekah the heartbreaker. The fine clothing, the flawless accents, the faces that look like they could be those of nobles, their beauty – it's a wonder she didn't link them to Klaus sooner. "It's a pleasure to meet you!"

"The pleasure is all ours," Elijah says, extending his hand towards Caroline who shakes it, "it's exciting to finally meet the girl that we've heard so much about."

"K-Klaus talks about me?" Caroline asks, in wonderment. She knew they'd grown especially close over the last few months, but she hadn't thought that he would tell his siblings about her.

Rebekah smiles at Caroline and claps her hands in delight. "Don't you know? He never shuts up about how wonderful you are and it's obvious from his paintings isn't it?"

In that moment, the air feels tense with tangibility, the lights of the dim bar seem to grow brighter and the music seems to fade to silence, until Rebekah's voice and Caroline's raging heartbeat are the only noises she can hear. The world seems to stop turning, just for one moment and Caroline swears she can feel the stars watching down on them, as Rebekah opens her mouth to speak.

"You're his muse, Caroline."

.

"His what?" Caroline repeats, her heart thudding so hard that it threatens to burst out of her ribcage, in all its golden splendour.

"Muse," Elijah repeats, "you're the girl that's managed to claim his heart."

With that, Caroline feels every little doubt she's had over the past couple of weeks evaporate into thin air. Every moment she's spent deconstructing Klaus' smiles and analysing his words are carried away on the beat of the drum as Caroline realises that she doesn't need to overthink such matters of the heart and try to overcomplicate everything.

In this moment, in a small bar in the middle of the city that has captured both of their imaginations with Rebekah and Elijah smiling happily at her, Caroline feels her soul sing as she realises that Klaus Mikaelson likes her, Caroline Forbes, just as she likes him.

Caroline remembers all those months ago, when she came to New York to find herself and she realises that she found a lot more than herself along the line.

She found someone she wants to share the city with.

.

There's something so magical about New York at night, Klaus thinks, as he rounds the corner of the street containing the nightclub he's arranged to meet Caroline in.

The way the sky remains the same comforting dusky black night after night; the pale chasms of moonlight that reflect off the occasional flash of metal or glass; the yellow windows nestled in the buildings that tickle the stars, behind which a countless number of dynamic people live their lives. Aside from early morning, night time is quite possibly Klaus' favourite time of day in the city.

And tonight, the streetlights seem a little brighter, the world a little closer and the roads seem to gleam with hope, all because of one beautiful, perfect girl and her beautiful, perfect words.

She said it was stunning, Klaus thinks with glee, as he remembers the recent evening and the way his stomach flipped over when she leant into his ear and his thudding heart as she tossed her head back and laughed at his jokes. Stunning. Caroline Forbes thinks my art is stunning, Klaus can feel his thoughts pulsating loudly with joy.

As he reaches the door of the club, he wonders why he feels so expectant. It is as if every single star in the sky is willing him forward, telling him to run through the door and feel his life change forever.

He feels like this may be the night that changes everything.

He hopes he is right.

.

"And here he is!" Elijah shouts suddenly, "the man of the hour!"

Caroline swivels round to see Klaus making his way towards them, a look of surprise and happiness etched onto his features as he stares at his siblings. She can't help but envy the endearment he looks at them with and she wonders if he would ever look at her like that.

His eyes suddenly flit to Caroline and one of those goddamned smiles flits over his features and she feels her heart flutter in the chest.

It's the kind of smile she could fall pretty damn hard for.

She thinks that, maybe, tonight will be the start of an era.

She hopes it will be.

.

The night is a blur of laughing with Klaus, Elijah and Rebekah about tales of childhood; the music gradually reaching a crescendo; ecstatic happiness pumping through Caroline's veins and Klaus' hip pressed against hers as they dance to the beat.

The night tastes of promise and excitement, and Caroline can't quite describe it, but she feels an almost magnetic force, trying desperately to push her towards Klaus. And of course, she obliges. They spend the whole night side by side; dancing, laughing, talking, drinking and exchanging loaded looks.

Elijah and Rebekah leave at around two am, hugging Caroline close and promising to meet up with her at some point, leaving Klaus and Caroline alone by the bar, together. Caroline is just about to say something, when the music changes track. Rather than the heavy bass and fast tempo of previous songs, this is slower, enchanting and beautiful.

"May I have this dance, love?" he asks, holding out his hand to her.

"You may," Caroline replies, smiling.

Klaus shoots her one of those smiles that she doesn't want to ever live without and she swears that the entire earth stops turning for a moment.

.

On the dancefloor, there is nothing to do but press Caroline close to him and rest his head on hers. Out here, on the dimly lit floor, with the souls of other lovers embracing around them and the air tinted with a rosy kind of peace, it is not a time to speak. It is a time to say things that can never be expressed in mere words; a time to entwine their bodies closer together and be harmonious with the beat of the gentle music.

And so, he pulls Caroline tighter still and sways to the beat with her, hoping that the gentle touch of his hand on her waist will be enough to tell her how thankful he is that she is in his life and how beautiful she is and how he never wants to ever let her go.

Perhaps it works, because a few moments later, Caroline leans back and stares him straight in the eyes.

Before he's entirely conscious of what he's doing, Klaus feels himself leaning in and Caroline mirrors him. They slowly move closer and closer to one another, shortening the distance between them. Klaus' heart thrums in his chest and he can feel Caroline's do the same, as she slowly closes the gap between them.

Their lips meet and it feels like the entire world and every star above them is rejoicing.

.

The kiss deepens, as they stumble off the dancefloor. This is no longer the gentle kiss of two souls uniting for the first time, this kiss is hungry and bold and it leaves Caroline wanting so much more.

This kiss feels like soaring, it feels like living and dreaming and being free. Right now, with Klaus' lips, tasting of the city she's fallen in love with and beer and mint and his hands tugging through her hair, Caroline has never felt freer.

This kiss feels like the sort that could go on forever, until long after the building around them has decayed and their bones have begun to crumble. It feels like the kind of kiss that will leave its mark on this urban landscape for all eternity.

Caroline feels Klaus break away gently from her and she looks at him quizzically, confused by his stopping.

"Shall we take this somewhere else?" Klaus asks huskily.

Caroline nods and holds her hand out to him, before they lead each other out into the night and towards their fate.

.

Later, much later, when their hands are entwined under Klaus' bedsheets, Caroline stares out of a shaft of Klaus' window, across the city. For some unknown reason, tonight it looks different.

"So," she whispers to Klaus, "I'm your muse then?"

He blushes slightly before whispering back. "Always."

Over the sound of her roaring heart and the triumph of every star above them, Caroline stares out the window again and she can see the mark that countless lovers have made upon the pavements that stretch on and on. She can see the dynamic maze of every single possible path they can ever take and the mark it leaves on the stoic landscape.

That is when she realises.

She realises that with Klaus by her side, the city looks like the tangible future with him, just within their grasp.

This is what the city is to them.