a/n: i don't think i really want tatia petrova to come on the show, unless it's a flashback scene, of course. the present holds too many petrovas as is. irregardless, i've always been drawn in by the idea of klaus and the first woman he ever truly loved. smidge of elejah snuck in there. story title from blue jeans by lana del rey.
i will love you 'til the end of time
"We do not feel, and we do not care."
"We did once."
Elijah's gaze is deliberate as it meets his, dark eyes willing him to remember himself—a side of him he believes died when heir father dug a sword through his heart. Klaus' jaw clenches as he stares down his older brother, unwaveringly defiant against all that Elijah's elixir suggestion is implying.
He cares about Katerina.
Klaus almost wants to laugh, although the truth of the matter is that nothing is funny. He understands why Elijah cares for the girl—Katerina is jovial and kindhearted and carries herself with such a grace that they haven't seen in five hundred years. It's not exactly like his brother has the ability to resist a doe-eyed beauty with a heart of gold, either way.
"Too many lifetimes ago to matter."
Elijah swallows, and Klaus gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. He can see the affection he holds for the doppelganger is genuine, and he dislikes it when he's the one disappointing his family, but he needs Elijah to get one thing through his head; he—they—can't keep running after the ghost of the girl they loved and lost.
Their father saw to that when he forced them to transition on her blood, and divided between himself and his six family members, it's not like she had a chance at survival. He blinks away the image of her ashen corpse in the corner of their cottage and trains his eyes on his brother, adamant that Elijah understands what Klaus can't bring himself to say.
She's dead, and she's not coming back.
He nods, and Klaus allows the corner of his lip to slightly pull upwards, believing Elijah's learned his lesson—caring for the doppelganger will do nothing but harm.
(They aren't aware Elijah will make the same mistake again—a different girl, a different lifetime, but wearing the same face.)
"Yes, brother."
Klaus pats his shoulder and exits the study.
He makes sure that Elijah's not coming after him and that Katerina is safely tucked into her bedchamber before making his way to his own. He retrieves his sketchbook from his dresser and thumbs through the pages until he reaches what he's aching to see.
Her.
Even now, five centuries after their romance ended, he can still remember every curve of her face, every contour of her body, how she smelled, the way her fingers skimmed so easily across his skin in a way that never failed to make him smile.
He runs his fingers over the drawing, allowing himself to reminisce on memories that he'd kept buried underneath the deepest crevices of his mind with the intent to never revisit.
Unlike his brother, he understands that just because Katerina has the same olive skin and the same sultry smile as Ta—as she did, it won't do anything for him. It won't bring her back, it won't make him feel again. No, that was a privilege that only she could claim.
He doesn't think twice before crumbling up the paper and tossing it into the fireplace. He watches the flames lick at the paper, disintegrating the portrait of a woman who defined who he was as a man, a woman he made sure didn't define who he was as a monster.
Klaus pulls at his hair; it's not like the flames will burn away the memory of her, or her kisses, or her touch, or her love—pure, genuine, untainted, just like his was towards her.
He closes his eyes tightly before he does something moronic like cry.
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