Stepping into the art studio-slash-study that was adjoined to their bedroom, Caroline padded barefoot up to where Klaus was sitting on a stool, working intently on his latest piece of art. Tilting her head to follow his careful paint strokes, she pulled a face when she failed to recognise any familiarity in the painting. It wasn't a landscape, or an image, or an item, or her.
Coming up behind him, she laced her arms over his shoulders and around his neck, letting one of her hands drop casually onto his chest whilst the other clung onto his shoulder. She could feel him react briefly to her intrusion into his state of mind before relaxing when he realised that it was just her.
"Is it an abstract?" she asked softly next to his ear, pressing her lips to the shell of it before turning back to the work in question.
"No, its not. And I'm beginning to think you don't know what 'abstract' means in terms of art, sweetheart," Klaus told her gruffly, clearly not appreciating her lack of knowledge about something he had spent years trying to teach her.
Caroline huffed and rested her chin on his shoulder with a small pout. "I do so! I might be eternally 17, Nik-Nik, but that doesn't mean I'm still juvenile."
"And yet you still insist on calling me that," he growled, practically spitting out the last word as he refrained of repeating the recent nickname she had taken to calling him when she was being playful.
"You love it really," she grinned, peering over to look at his set jaw and pursed lips proving the opposite as he carried on painting.
"I really don't, Caroline. How many times must I remind you of that before you stop using it?" he practically sighed, and was almost on the verge of begging but they both knew that it wouldn't help. Klaus might be renowned for being stubborn and getting his own way, but Caroline was catching up quick.
Pretending to think about it, she straightened up and leaned against his sturdy back. "Probably as many as it took for me to stop calling you 'baby'."
"You never have stopped," he reminded her dryly, putting aside his paintbrush and paint, decidingly done for the night.
"Exactly," Caroline smirked, smoothing her palms up to rest on his shoulders, fingers of her left hand tangling briefly in the collection of necklaces he always wore.
Shaking his head, Klaus cleaned his hands on a turpentine soaked cloth. "The last time someone called me by a nickname I didn't appreciate, they never spoke again," he warned her but all she could do was grin.
"Oooh, I'm terrified. Is the big bad hybrid going to punish me?" she asked seductively, not moving an inch even when he threw the cloth aside and stood up to face her. A dark look of desire covered his features and a smile tugged at his lips as his eyes flickered from hers to the clothes she was wearing (his top and nothing else) and back again. "Why don't you come to bed and see what you can do?" she whispered gripping his paint splattered henley with both hands and pulling him flush up to her body.
"With pleasure, my love."
They were in their bedroom and on the bed before she could even get her head around what was happening. She knew full well that there would only be one name on her lips for the rest of the night, and Klaus would be pleased to hear it.