Note: I don't ship klonnie and I never will, but I really wanted to do something to thank alla-matta for the incredible Dormiente fanart she made, which you will find on her tumblr blog, so I gave it a try. I hope I got the characters. As always it's a bit tricky since I never watched TVD. Let's cross our fingers. And once again thanks so 1beaut for her beta service.

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There's a chair in my head on which I used to sit

Took a pencil and I wrote the following on it

Now there's a key where my wonderful mouth used to be

Dig it up, throw it at me

Dig it up, throw it at me

[Virgin State of Mind - K's Choice]

He stops when he steps over a tiny pair of worn ballet shoes. There's no smell in the air and the images are getting clearer by the second as the black and white setting turns into colors.

There's this entertaining peculiarity about Originals, which he was always careful not to indulge in, and that is the capability to peer on the soul of people they feed on. As long as theirs is the very last drop of blood inside their system.

It has no strict utility to know more than your victim's name to make them feel trapped and hopeless, make yourself look haunting and dangerous and irresistible. He doesn't usually drag it out; it's very ill-mannered to play with food, after all.

In his head, as his fangs sink into his dinner's neck, there's a voice reminding to not put his elbows on the table. He is a killer, but above all he is a gentleman.

So he never used this power until now that he can't do anything else but to live into his own mind. It's quite amusing, he must say, that he gets to walk around the soul of the very same witch that made of him a rotting corp. Oh well, he supposes she had one or two reasons to resent him, and you must always look out from the rage of a lady.

Especially if the lady herself is a Bennett.

Klaus sighs and looks around the empty room; at least he's got something to kill the time while they keep his body trapped inside the warehouse.

The room is immaculate and very neat; a good ground for an obsessive personality. The young girl walks into it, closing the door behind her carefully.

"Oh, what do we have here?" he asks her, getting no reply, "A quarter of a witch."

He counts on getting more interaction once he settles better on this plane.

She looks at her reflection in the mirror and fixes her already perfect braids, twice.

"Compulsive behavior, too? Aren't we precious?"

Little Bonnie turns to look at her mother's picture on the nightstand and fix her braids a third time.

He once poked at this particular sore spot to get her to do what he wanted. It's really so easy. He's omniscient on the family issues and the measuring up with people's expectations. Good for him he is quite a consumed actor, and she was too worried over her friends - particularly that silly example of a Gilbert man - to realize he was teasing his own wounds.

But he has too much class to pick on a little girl, even if the little girl will grow up into a very beautiful, very dangerous maiden.

Klaus kneels at her side to look at her watery green eyes and reach out to touch the tear that rolls down her cheek.

She's startled, if by his touch or the window opening because of a blast of wind he cannot tell.

#

She's ten and she has two imaginary friends keeping her company when his father is not around. She calls them Buddy and Deena and he thinks she needs to grow more taste regarding names and snacks. He knows for a fact that carbohydrates will not put weight on her sweet figure but that's no reason for a bad diet.

One day, as she's taking the backpack to go outside and wait for the bus she looks up to him, coking her head to the side, asking "Are you a friend of Buddy?"

He loses himself for a moment in those big green eyes but recovers quickly from the surprise. It should be harder and longer the process that allows him to settle into this plane, but she's a witch. A powerful one, even at this age it seems.

"Young lady," he says, and she looks amused by his British accent, "I pride myself to not entertain any kind of relationship with someone disgraced by such a name, but if I had one I would surely be merciful enough to put him out of his misery."

Bonnie blinks and then a smile, deciding that she likes him.

She's born for danger, this one.

It takes him a month to outclass Buddy and Deena. Never-mind that the fact that they are a fragment of a child's imagination gave him enough advantage that a whole month to defeat them it's almost humiliating.

#

Bonnie and the Doppelganger are joined at the hip. He supposes he can study his prey since he's got nothing else to do, but all he wants to do is to crush her skull into his hand every time she blabbers in front of the mirror and complain about her - ever present - parents.

He supposes it should stop in three years anyway, since they both die.

Elena is so young and already so good at keeping boys at the leash. She holds her chin up, smiles her glossy, bright smile and they follow her like puppies.

Caroline keeps the scores to try and win her but the numbers are always in Elena's favor, even if the distance is very short.

Bonnie retreat into her own skin every time a boy approaches her.

#

It's too good of a chance to follow Caroline inside Bonnie's memory; beautiful, adorable, and silly Caroline. She's lost inside this little world, even if one day she will have it all at her feet.

If only she knew, he thinks.

But right now she doesn't, and she consumes herself inside her mirror.

That's how he loses sight of Bonnie.

When he jumps ahead, in the next memory carved down into that astonishing soul of her, his little friend is fifteen and Caroline convinced her to have a date with a friend of hers.

Caroline has many friends. Caroline really has no one.

The boy - an illiterate creature driven by hormones that can proudly brag only about having an opposable thumb - tries to force himself on her at their second date. Bonnie tries to reason with him as he kisses every inch of skin he can manage to reach to, while she keeps him at distance with her hands.

"Fight him!" he encourages her, "He's nothing but an unworthy animal!" he's insulted by what's happening to her, and almost rabid. She does fight him, but he's bigger and Klaus blindly reaches for the boy's shoulders and throws him away.

The boy gets up to look at the girl, terrified, and then runs away like he saw the devil himself.

Klaus speaks to her as she walks back home but she keeps her green eyes down on her shoes and doesn't say a thing.

"I thought you had left me," she says, rising her eyes on him as she sits on the bed.

Klaus turns his head over his shoulder.

He had though she could not hear or see him anymore, but she was just ignoring him. Well, serves him right, doesn't it?

He uncrosses his legs and gets up from the chair to sit again on the bed, right next to her.

"Did you miss me, love?" he asks as he leans a bit into her.

"Yes, I did," she says. Her eyes fixed into his, her chin high, as she's daring him to contradict her. He never had anyone being so honest about their feelings for him or so proud to have them.

"I missed you too, greatly so," he says, and he's surprised to realize he's speaking the sacred truth.

"Where were you?" she asks.

"Somewhere else," he just turns in circles around her question gaining a hard look, "but it's a very dull place, because my favorite girl is not there. I'm not leaving you again."

Bonnie looks at him for whole ten seconds before deciding she's letting this one pass.

"Am I forgiven?" he asks.

One corner of her mouth goes up and there's something mischievous in her beautiful eyes. But she's a fifteen old girl that always asks so little from her life so when she says

"On one condition," he easily answers "You can ask anything."

"I want you to kiss me."

Klaus stares at her trying to decide if he heard her right; she looks absolutely set.

"I think my inconsistent state is playing tricks on me, love."

"You are very consistent to me," she corrects him, "and I want you to kiss me," she explains calmly, as it is the most natural thing in the world.

"I'm sure there are plenty of boys whom-"

"I don't want boys," she cuts in, "I had my share," she says, clearly referring to the events of the night, "I want you to kiss me. I trust you."

"Do you?" its unsettling to hear and he's not used to it. He thinks he can grow an addiction to it.

"Yes, so unless you find me ugly..."

"What man in their right mind would not think you are a flower among weeds, my love?" he asks, husky.

"Then kiss me."

There's a certain moral code, the memory of Caroline's blond charm, and that bad trick that had him trapped into the warehouse and this oblivion that are calling out to him. Yet her eyes call to him louder.

And he kisses her. Gentle, delicate, all proper and mannered but she nibbles at his lower lip and he has her trapped under him, between his hard body and the bed, in a second.

It takes him all the strength he possesses to tear himself away from her.

Klaus breathes hard as he watches her from the opposite side of the room. Bonnie looks at him startled and intrigued by the taste of lover she got. Her eyes shine with a new passion.

#

"It's you!" she accuses him.

She's seventeen and they met. His walking, un-dead, un-trapped version and Bonnie met and now she's starting to connect the dots even if she can't possibly come up with the bigger picture.

"You want to kill me and my friends."

"What relationship doesn't have a little bump in the road?" he asks trying to make her smile, but he only manages to get her angrier. He should know better. He knows her.

"I can't believe it," she says, shaking her head. Her beautiful, big green eyes look glossy and he's tempted to kneel next to her and wipe away her tears with his fingertips but she's not a child anymore.

She's a beautiful young woman. A very alluring one. Most of the times he can't remember what color are Caroline's eyes anymore.

"I'm so sorry, love," he says.

Bonnie looks down and for an instant he recognizes the little girl that watch her steps and shield herself from a world that is always betraying her trust. Until she turns around and closes the door of her room, carefully, saying "I know".

When she turns again to face him her eyes look older and she start to undress herself.

"Love?" he asks, confused.

When her lace bra falls on the floor he's the one lowering his eyes.

"What are you doing?"

His mouth waters.

"I think you know," she says, and he sees her jeans thrown at his feet and her panties pooling at hers.

"I don't-" he can't really say it. He can't really say that he doesn't want to, doesn't want her. He's wanted her for what can be defined as years.

"You don't?" she asks, as she's daring him to deny what is crystal clear.

"Bonnie, love," he whispers as she gets closer and runs her hands on his clothed chest. His hands move on their own volition and they hold her gently by the waist and then travel down to cup her ass and press her against his sex.

Oh Lord, he's a weak creature. He's already hard and she can feel it through his jeans as they rub together slowly.

Klaus lets her undress him and watches mesmerized. There's so much care and so much lust in her eyes and it's for him. He never had anything that belonged to him, but suddenly something does.

This night, her purest desire. They're his.

They fall on the bed in a rapture of kisses and whispers and when the tip of his member teases her sex they stop moving. Stop breathing.

He thinks maybe the world stops too.

Bonnie looks up at him, eyes fixed into each other's, and opens her legs more. He drives into her with one thrust. She gasps and arches up.

It's not her first time and yet she's been waiting for so long for him to be the one to do this to her, to make her feel this way.

"Yes," she says, with an ecstatic, bitter smile "Yes, Klaus,"

"Bonnie, my darling, my love," he says as he drives in and out of her in slow strokes. He needs to concede himself more before it's over so he takes one of her ankles and raises her leg against his chest. The angle of his penetration changes and she moans in pleasure as he kisses her ankle and buries himself deeper with a possessive edge.

It feels like time is closing on them and he has the urge to go faster. Klaus let her leg fall on the bed and bends slightly to let one hand slid behind her, in the middle of her back, to pick her up.

He's on his knees, naked in the middle of the bed and when he holds her up she pushes with her hand on the pillow to help herself to follow his movements. His trusts get faster, she must ride the rhythm he's dominated by, yet the sharper, faster strokes make her hornier. Suddenly blind to what this really is.

"Ohloveohloveohlove," he keeps repeating, like he's in some sort of trance.

He keeps her on him member with one hand in the middle of her back and one holding her thigh, this way he can keep her completely open to him so that as she's sinking down there's not an inch of him that's not in her.

Bonnie holds to his shoulder with one hand and her spine arches as she receives his member inside her. Her eyes roll back into her head and she can feel his tongue lapping at her nipple when he master their frenzy motion so good that he can do that without risking to lose the rhythm of their hard riding.

They go from making love to fucking franticly. Like they are still trying to fight their odds to the very last second.

This is how it goes. This is how they say goodbye.

It is worth to go out like this, he thinks as he comes, looking into her perfect eyes.

#

Her eyes are still perfect as she coldly look down on him. Her power calls out to him until he's out of her soul, out of her tight, warm body to find himself into the warehouse again.

Klaus sees Damon behind her shoulders and irritation washes over him.

"Oh, creepy."

"I need a minute," she says and he can hear her listing all the pain he's caused her. Al the pain his caused to his little lady, his only friend, his love.

Bonnie is full of hate as she bends on him hissing "You should burn in hell, but if you die so do my friends, so does my mother, what am I supposed to do about that?"

Little she knows now that, whatever she does, he's coming back for her. One way or another.

She's his; every bone, every tear, everything.

Even if she'll never know.