Taking a deep breath, Caroline knocks on the door to the residence of the new tenant. It was customary to greet a new neighbor, and Caroline didn't want to seem unfriendly. Even though it was two weeks since the tenant moved in, she thought it would be the perfect time to bring over a housewarming—err, apartment warming—gift. She fidgeted with her plate of cookies and knocked on the door again.
After her second knock, the door opened to reveal a male, half asleep, wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and his dark blonde hair tossed aside. He lazily smiled when he saw Caroline in the door, asking, "Can I help you?" His accent, so sweet and melodic, coming out with each syllable; there was no way he was real.
Momentarily jarred by his haggard appearance and accent, Caroline remembered that she still had a boyfriend—even if he was off again. She held out the plate of cookies to him, saying, "I just came by to welcome you to the building. Welcome, I'm Caroline."
He took the plate of cookies from her hand, roughly, and shut the door in Caroline's face. Not to be jilted by a stranger—no matter how handsome he was—she pounds on the door, shouting, "Excuse me, it is customary to introduce yourself when someone greets you."
Midway through her incessant knocking, he opened up the door again. This time he had on blue jeans, he frowned at her from his doorway. He replies, "It is customary also not to force your welcome on other people, Caroline. We don't want to be overextended."
Furrowing her brows, Caroline frowned at his tone. So arrogant and smug, she said, "Am I going to get my plate back?"
The frown on his face changed to a grin, followed by a laugh. His mood was infectious, and she smiled, too. He motioned for her to follow him into the apartment to the kitchen—where he set the cookies on the counter. Opening up the plastic wrap, he deposited them from the plate onto a bowl sitting on his counter. He took a bite from one and said, "These are really good. Would you mind sharing the recipe?"
Caroline blushed, nodding, "Sure. If you don't mind my asking for your name again, it seems only fair."
Scratching his head shyly, he said, "I'm sorry. It's Niklaus, or Klaus," he paused for a second, handed the plate in his hand back to Caroline, "thank you for the cookies. I've never had anyone greet me at the door like this."
Taking the plate back, now emptied, Caroline smiled back and said, "Well, we have a bowling league every Thursday night, and our floor is one team. If you care to join us, we only have three people right now besides myself representing the fifth floor."
"I'll have to see what my schedule is like then," he grinned, "Thursday is not always easy for me."
"Great," Caroline exclaimed, looking for a pen and paper, she jotted down her number on it, "you can call me if you change your mind. Talk to you later, Klaus."
She turned herself around and walked out of the apartment. She breathed a sigh of relief, what got into her.
Elena wouldn't be pleased.