A/N: Hi, everyone. I saw this post on Tumblr about 25 Days of Klaroline and while I couldn't find time to work on it within its duration, I decided it would be fun to upload a one-shot/drabble collection of my favourite prompts. Some stories will be dark-well, two so far are dark-but the others will be lighthearted and (hopefully) enjoyable reads. We're starting with Day 6, but I may come back and try Day 3, simply because I've never written a Secret Relationship story before and it might be fun.

I'm not a big fan of writing smut, so there won't really be any in here. Just a fair warning to those of you who might expect it. This collection may not be for you.

Anyway, without further ado, here is my take on this year's 25 Days of Klaroline.

Fear, Power, and Apples

3:00 cannot come soon enough for Caroline Forbes. Today is the first meeting of her—that's right, her—Literature Club. She had spent all summer coming up with reading lists (obviously they would be starting with Frankenstein and ending on Fahrenheit 451) and discussion topics (like, Why the hell do people always think Frankenstein is the monster? Have they never been to high school? or, What would you do if you lived in a world where reading, thinking, driving slowly and being a general good human being were illegal?) and snack ideas (gluten free, no debate). One week into her senior year and it is finally time to see how many of her fellow students have decided to join her on her final high school endeavour.

English is her last subject on Odd Days this year, which is absolutely perfect. Every other Monday, when her club will gather in the AV room nobody uses, she will be fresh from an atmosphere which encourages healthy analysation of literature. It will make the club's proceedings that much more enjoyable.

Excitement squeezing her insides, Caroline clutches the edges of her desk as Mr. Saltzman continues his rant on the "idiotic, closed-minded, atrocious woman" (his words, not Caroline's—though she does agree with his less-than-kind moniker) who is currently trying to ban To Kill a Mockingbird from all Virginia schools. The last fifteen minutes of their class has been centred around how silly it is to ban books. Mr. Saltzman calls it a mindless censorship of art which can greatly damage a student's psychological and emotional development.

He is so clever. Caroline is more than grateful he is her senior year English teacher. It helps that he's also extremely attractive.

"But Sir . . ."

Caroline groans out loud. Some of the giddiness that has been coursing through her all day leaks out. She glares across the room at the boy who spoke. Freaking Klaus Mikaelson. Close to the, if not the, most disruptive ass she has ever met. He has been in her English class three times since he moved to America from England when he was twelve. She thought maybe the gods would be kind to her during her senior year, but alas.

Mr. Saltzman leans against his desk and crosses his arms. There is a look of half-amused dread on his face. "What is it, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"Well, the woman does bring up some good points," Klaus says. Caroline thinks she visibly sees Mr. Saltzman's eyes bug.

"And, uh, what would those points be?"

"That there is a lot of racially insensitive language in the book. Should fourteen-year-olds really be reading that kind of language? If we aren't allowed to use the words, why are we allowed to read them?"

There is a smugness to Klaus's words that pisses Caroline off. "That's completely besides the point!" she exclaims. The entirety of her class jumps in surprise.

Klaus slowly turns his neck in Caroline's direction. He cocks his head to the side, his lips lifted in a creepy smirk. "What, pray tell, is the point, then? The woman cited racially charged language as the reason for her challenge, didn't she?"

Caroline rolled her eyes. "Yes, but it's a stupid reason to challenge the book. These words are still tossed around haphazardly by children who don't know any better. No book is going to make them use the words more, and taking it away won't make them use them less. To Kill A Mockingbird is such an important telling of a time when people of colour were treated so horribly. It's a testament, a warning. And besides, it's not all about Tom Robinson's case. She's blind if she thinks Lee only wrote the book to discuss racial prejudices"—

Caroline is rudely cut off by the bell. It's loud clanging noise instantly distracts her classmates. They scramble to gather their supplies, racing to be the first out of the room. Caroline deflates a little. She was just getting to the best part of her argument.

"Don't forget to read the first five chapters of Animal Farm. We'll be discussing them on Wednesday!" Mr. Saltzman's cry goes mostly unheard in the rush, but Caroline is still sitting even when everyone else has disappeared. Her English teacher pushes off from his desk and comes over to Caroline. He smells like citrus and pine needles, she observes as he approaches. "You know he only says those things to get a rise out of you, Caroline. Why do you let him toy with you like that?"

It's true, of course. Klaus Mikaelson has mocked Caroline's adoration for books since they met almost six years ago. The whole school knows of the incident in 10th grade while they were going over the themes in The Great Gatsby. That was the only time Caroline had ever been sent to the principle's office.

"It's not my fault he's so good at pushing my buttons," she complains. "I can't help being passionate about books. He, on the other hand, can most certainly help being such a dick."

Mr. Saltzman laughs. "I'm not so sure about that. Hey, aren't you late for your first Lit Club meeting?"

In the heat of her outburst, Caroline had managed to forget why she had been so eager for the bell to ring. She stands immediately, startling Mr. Saltzman.

"Right, I am." She picks up her books and walks towards the door. "And I'll have those chapters read by Wednesday, Mr. Saltzman."

He smiles at her and she has to fight not to melt. "How many times have you read Animal Farm, Caroline?"

She shrugs. "Um . . . this will be my eleventh time."

"Go to your meeting," Mr. Saltzman says, that breathtaking smile still on his face. He shoos her away with his left hand which has recently lost its wedding ring.

"Bye, Mr. Saltzman," she calls as she saunters off in the direction of her locker. Once she's grabbed her itinerary and the basket of snacks she had prepared over the weekend, she heads for the AV room.

When she reaches the door, she wonders how many people are waiting for her. How many are as excited as her to embark on this journey.

She is sorely disappointed when the door swings open and the only person inside the small, windowless AV room is Klaus Motherfucking Mikaelson.

Caroline's grip on the door handle tightens. She frowns, her entire face scrunching in bewilderment and anger. "What the hell are you doing here? This is the room for my Lit Club. Get out."

"Aw," he mewls, pouting his stupid full lips, "but the posters you scattered all around the school said it was open to anyone and everyone."

Caroline releases the door handle and steps further into the room. The door swings shut behind her. "Didn't you read the fine print? It names you as the only exception."

"I've got a picture."

"What?" Caroline stops just short of reaching him. In her heels, she is just about as tall as him. Their eyes are level. His are full of mischief.

"I had a feeling you'd try kicking me out, so I brought proof that you can't. This is a school club. You can't exclude me," he says, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He fiddles with it and shows Caroline a picture of one of the many posters she put up last week.

"Yeah, well," she flounders, knocking Klaus's hand down, "it's my club. I can do whatever I want."

A slow, tremendously eerie smile slices Klaus's mouth. His eyes swerve around the room. "Yeah, but without me, you'll be all alone."

Caroline followed his eyes. Nobody else was there, sure, but it was only 3:20. They still had forty minutes. People could show up in that time.

"You're an ass," she fires. "You don't even like books. Why are you here? To torture me?"

"Right, because I live to make your life miserable."

"It sure as hell seems that way."

Klaus's eyes narrow into small slits. He looks like a snake ready to unhinge its jaws and attack. "We're reading Frankenstein first, yeah?" he asks. He bends, lifting something from his backpack. A book. "Because I've got my favourite copy right here. It was my grandad's. He loved this book. Read it thousands of times, probably. But look," he says, holding up the pristine copy of Frankenstein, "it's in perfect condition, because he loved books so much he couldn't bear to see their spines ruined."

To say Caroline is caught off guard by Klaus's mini speech is putting it mildly. She stares at the book in Klaus's hand, her lips parted in shock.

"But in class . . ." she mutters.

Klaus sighs. "Yeah, in class I fool around. It's fun to ruffle your pretty little feathers, I admit. But ask any English teacher, I've gotten straight A's all my life in the subject. Now, are we gonna start discussing this book? I didn't bring it all the way to school for this meeting just to have you throw me out."

It takes Caroline a moment to respond. Her mind is whirring. Eventually, she gathers herself enough to say, "Yeah, uh, yeah. Let's start. Here." She hands Klaus a copy of the discussion questions, her breath catching when his fingertips graze her palm in the exchange. Shaking her head, she clears her throat and sits in one of the swivel chairs in the room, still in shock when Klaus sits opposite her. "Would you like to begin?"

Klaus scans the paper. His tongue sneaks between his lips and Caroline, annoyingly, has to stop herself from staring. "I was thinking we could start with snacks, actually. I'm ravenous."

Six Months Later

"I know you're seniors, guys, and you don't think your grades for this year count for anything, but please. I'm still an English teacher. I want to enjoy reading your papers." Mr. Saltzman is, as usual, sitting on top of his desk, his ankles crossed. "For your final paper, which I am giving you three weeks to work on, I really expect some hard work to be put into them. Don't make me read another essay based on the film version of the book you've chosen. Those will be getting zeros. And no last-minute essays, either. Those will be getting negative ones."

Caroline's mind is already filled with ideas for her final paper. She will write it on Henry V, her favourite Shakespeare play. She practically has the entire introduction written in her head. The whole essay should be finished by Friday.

Across the room, Caroline spots Klaus's eyes on her. She tilts an eyebrow upwards, hoping to mask how quickly her heartbeat has picked up in speed. But he only smirks before returning his attention to Mr. Saltzman.

Unbelievably, Klaus and Caroline have been getting along. Really, really, really well. Much to Caroline's surprise, they clicked almost instantly during that first Lit Club meeting, of which they are still the only two members. It was devastating at first. She had such high hopes for the club. But after a little while (a very little while), she was glad nobody else was there.

That first meeting proved just how in love with literature Klaus was, and their discussions only became more in-depth and heated after that. With each book, their shared passion for reading and analysing famous author's words grew. Still, he teased her during class. Made fun of her gluten-free treats. Tried to get beneath her skin.

Little did he know, he was already there.

Yes, Caroline Forbes had come to the conclusion that she, somehow, had fallen for Klaus Mikaelson. Like so many of her fellow students, she found herself wooed by the English, leather-jacket-wearing snob. How could she help it after he gave her his grandfather's copy of The Wizard of Oz, her favourite book growing up, for her birthday? A date she didn't remember giving him.

Her attraction to him is the sole reason she has yet to accept anyone's promposal. Five different guys have asked, all of whom she has turned down. It isn't like she's holding out hope Klaus will ask her. She just doesn't want to spend prom night with some random boy whose company she knows she won't enjoy.

Caroline is snatched from her reverie by the bell. Today is the last Lit Club meeting, and Caroline is slightly reluctant to leave her chair.

"You ready?" Klaus is in front of her, an out-of-place smile twirling his lips.

Caroline nods, hoping her natural blush is blending in nicely with the day's makeup. "Yeah, let's go."

They walk side by side to the AV room. Every now and again, Klaus's hand will find its way to the small of her back as he guides her around various obstacles in the halls. Her skin jumps each time she feels the heat from his skin soaking through her thin top.

Caroline's body freezes when Klaus opens the door to the room. He stands in the doorway, a giddy, boyish expression on his gorgeous face.

"Well, what do you think?" he asks.

"What do I think?" she says, stepping into the room. It has been decorated entirely in book-cover posters and quotes from the novels they read during the year. On a desk in the centre of the room is a table topped with snacks inspired by various books. She turns to Klaus. The door is closed. "How did you do this?"

He shrugs casually, closing the gap between them almost entirely. "Used my free period today. It wasn't that much trouble." His blue eyes are smiling at her.

Caroline is fighting back tears. "Thank you so much," she says, her throat tight. "It's beautiful."

Klaus skips over to the snack table and grabs a glass of some pale, bubbly liquid. He offers it to Caroline. "It's just sparkling apple juice," he says. "I thought you'd be against me bringing actual alcohol into the school."

"You're right about that," she commends, taking a sip from the flute. It fizzes down her throat smoothly. "So, do you want to get started talking about 451?"

Klaus agrees and they take their seats in the swivel chairs that have become theirs over the months. They talk endlessly about Guy Montag and the stunning symbolism in Bradbury's novel. They discuss how they would react to a future like Montag's. Klaus says he would be Guy, being the change he wishes to see in the world. Caroline laughs at this, though she could see him bravely choosing to go hard against the grain.

When their hour is up, Caroline, her face hot from holding back tears, sticks around to help take down Klaus's masterpiece. After, of course, she takes a few pictures.

"I know you're sad," Klaus says when they're nearly done.

Caroline stops her careful removal of the Frankenstein poster and faces Klaus, her bottom lip wobbling. "No, I'm not. What are you talking about?"

Abandoning his work, Klaus steps towards her. He has his hands in his pockets and the look on his face is one of genuine concern. "Caroline, you're practically balling. All that's missing are the tears."

Caroline sniffs and swipes at her nose with a napkin. "Well . . . fine. I'm upset. I don't want this to end," she says.

"We've got each other's numbers," Klaus reminds her, "we can still talk about books, even if it's not in the AV room."

Shaking her head, Caroline struggles to find the right words to say. "No, it's not that. I'm going to miss this. You and me, every other week . . ." she allows herself to trail off, hoping she doesn't need to explain any further.

Klaus's eyes widen as her words sink in. God, she hates herself sometimes.

"Oh," he says, surprised. He rubs the back of his neck, a tiny hint of a laugh in the air. "I, uh—really? Me?"

Caroline steps back, affronted. "What do you mean, me?"

Waving his hands out, Klaus stutters, "No, no, I mean . . . me? I thought you were all hot on Mr. Saltzman."

Caroline's nose twists. "Ew, no. He's, like, thirty-five. And who the hell says hot on anymore? When were you born?"

"You definitely fancied him, though. Nobody's that much of a teacher's pet."

"Fine, maybe I liked him a little bit in the beginning of the year, but then you showed up and fucked everything up!"

"Oh, so it's my fault you like me, then?"

"It's one-hundred percent your fault, you ass."

"I'm the ass? You're the one who's been hiding their feelings for almost six fucking months!"

They are panting, the both of them. Somehow, they have ended up in each other's faces. Their noses are almost touching. She can feel his breaths hitting her in the face. He smells of apples.

Caroline could almost laugh if she weren't so pissed off.

"The prom," Klaus seethes, his face warped in anger.

Confused, Caroline asks, "What about it?"

"Go with me."

"That's how you're asking?"

"Problem?"

"No, no. I'll go with you."

"Good."

And just like that, Klaus has Caroline in his arms. In one dip of his curly-haired head, his lips attack hers. It is sweeter and more thrilling than she could have imagined.

He tastes like apples too.

A/N 2: There is actually somebody contesting the addition of To Kill a Mockingbird in Virginia schools right now. It's awful.

Thanks for reading! I'm not sure what my uploading schedule will be as I'm returning to school in a couple of weeks. But the beginning of this coming semester should be fairly quiet, so I'm hoping to write a bit more than last semester.