A/N: I don't even know what this is. I just like writing Caroline, I guess? And then testing the limits of her feelings because I haven't had enough of that yet?
Sorry for any English mistakes you might find, as always - it's not my first language and honestly it's very late right now.
Hope you guys enjoy it. :) If you do, please let me know! :) Your feedback is very much appreciated!
It's a rainy Wednesday when Caroline realizes it's over.
Things hadn't been good for a while, but they weren't terrible either. Until they were.
Klaus has her pushed against the kitchen counter and his fingers are grazing the skin right under the hem of her top and that's usually how great things start, except this time it's how they end.
"It's not that I don't love you," she says.
Klaus knows that, and he also gets what she means. He's felt it, too; he's seen it coming. So he places a kiss on the corner of her mouth that is soft and gentle but candid, and lasts for a while, and then he smiles.
And that's that.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x
"I want New York," Caroline says, and it sounds ridiculous at first, but they're not just splitting furniture and objects, they're splitting a life. It seems reasonable that places should come into it as well.
Klaus considers it for a second, decides that it makes perfect sense, and then says, "I want New Orleans."
"Fine." New Orleans was always his anyway. "I want Kol, too."
"Kol is my brother," Klaus points out the obvious. "You can't have my family members."
"I knew Kol before I knew you."
"I knew Kol before you were even born."
Caroline wants to say something powerful and irrefutable, but she can't come up with anything substantial because Kol is, in fact, Klaus' little brother and it does sound absurd for her to call dibs on a person. Said person should, at least theoretically, have a say on it. But Caroline also knows what Kol's stance on the matter would be, and also, she just wants him. So she just repeats, "I want Kol."
Klaus shakes his head, makes a gesture with his hand. "Have him. But Rebekah is non-negotiable."
"All yours."
"I want Tyler."
Caroline opens her mouth to protest - Tyler's her ex-boyfriend, they grew up together, they thought they'd get married and grow old once, before Klaus. But then she remembers Tyler loves Klaus perhaps more than he's ever loved her, worships the ground he walks on, was genuinely ok with losing Caroline to him, so. There's not much of a dispute there. Tyler will be on Klaus' side of the partition whether she agrees to it or not and they both know that.
"But you can't have Stefan," she says. "He stays on my team."
Klaus smiles, one of those dimpled smiles that used to drive Caroline insane at the height of their crisis because she never knew what they meant – still doesn't know – and says, "Stefan loves Mystic Falls too much." He means something else by that, but Caroline doesn't think it's worth starting an argument over trying to figure it out.
Later, after a cup of coffee and some altercation over who would keep the bed - her - and the old dresser they found at that street fair on their trip to Tennessee - Klaus, in spite of much resistance on her part - they sit on the table hunching over an old atlas neither of them can remember buying.
"I want Colorado," Caroline says.
"Now, why would anyone ever want Colorado?" Caroline doesn't say anything, just stares at him. If he doesn't know the answer by now then there's the reason why they're breaking up. "I'll have London."
"Then I'll take Paris."
"Have you ever been to Paris?"
"No. But I'd like to, some time."
"Some time sounds awfully vague."
"No way in hell I'll let you have Paris, Klaus."
"Italy is mine, then."
"How's that fair? I asked for one city and you're taking the whole country?" Caroline protests.
Klaus lets out a sigh that speaks of infinite patience. "But you don't even like Italian food, sweetheart."
"So?"
"Fine," Klaus says. "We'll split Italy."
"Fine," Caroline replies, and tries her best not to grin. She's better than him at this.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x
It's maybe a month later when she hears the news about Klaus moving away from Mystic Falls. A part of her knew that would happen eventually. Mystic Falls was always too small for his big ambitions, too mild for his restless soul. Klaus always wanted more, bigger, better, faster. But he also wanted her.
He never meant to stay, but Mystic Falls was where Caroline was, and so he did. He clipped his wings for her, but it came with a price.
Every day he spent in Mystic Falls wishing with all his heart that he was somewhere else, a tiny piece of him died. It ate away at him inside until that light behind his eyes Caroline had fallen in love with almost instantly went out and she could no longer bear to look at him. She wonders how long it took for him to regret his decision to stay, if he'd been relieved when it was finally over and he could fly away at last. Some of their most epic fights started with Klaus insisting his art would benefit from them moving somewhere else, more dynamic and alive, and so would Caroline's writing. And, honestly, she could see his point, was tempted by his promises of great food and music and culture, which was why she always felt so disgruntled.
Klaus was a man of the world, while she was a small town girl. It didn't matter where she went, that's what she'd always be, it was in her core, and every time he started complaining about her hometown, about how everything was so dull and how there was no life in that place, it felt like he was talking about her. He never blamed her, not directly, but had other ways of making it understood that he wasn't happy. What he was telling her between the lines, whether he realized it or not, was that she was not enough.
Tyler says he's going back to New Orleans, and it doesn't surprise her. He's always loved that place with a passion she could never quite understand but always felt slightly jealous of. The city is his muse.
Still, it feels a bit surreal. They've been over for a month, living in separate houses and mostly keeping each to their side of the division, but there was maybe a part of her that hadn't fully bought it until now. It's over. They're over. Life goes on. It has.
Caroline's heart feels too small for her chest just then, but she smiles and says, "About time." If anyone notices she doesn't mean it, they don't mention it.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Caroline is trying to write, trying to finish her book, but everything she writes is pure garbage and she hates it all.
That's when she decides to get away. It's not something she's ever done before, not like this, but they did split half the world between themselves after all, and it feels like an awful waste not to make use of her side.
She stares at the atlas for a while and next thing she's buying a ticket to Venice. Italian food is not her favorite, true, but the gelato is fantastic and she loves the canals, the gondolas, the masks - ooh, she loves the masks.
Klaus is there. Of course he is.
"Venice is mine, love," he says. "I thought we agreed."
"I did not agree to give you Venice," she objects. She never would, it's been on her bucket list for years.
"You wanted Milan, so I took Florence. You wanted Rome, so I took Venice," Klaus says, very soundly, like he has a perfect recollection of the moment. Caroline is so frustrated because she did not give him Venice, she would've fought for Venice, and how the hell does he remember everything, anyway? They spent hours they should've spent talking about the important things and the big picture discussing imaginary lines that made no sense. He can't possibly remember every country and every city.
This is so Klaus. It makes her damn glad they're done.
"You wanted Florence, was all you talked about," she says. "So it would be great if you could leave now and not come back."
Klaus looks at her for a second, just looks, like really looks, and Caroline wants him to stop. She hates the fondness in his eyes.
"You're brilliant, Caroline," he says at last, his voice betraying no sarcasm or condescension. He means it, Caroline knows he does. He's always had an unshakable faith in her abilities. Caroline both loves and hates him for it. She just wants to say, Fuck you, because he shouldn't get to say these things to her anymore. She refuses to live up to his expectations. "You let your talent consume you like a disease rather than flow through you like a force. You don't have to fly halfway across the world just to hide from it. Trust your instincts."
Caroline just says, "Stay away from my side of the world."
Klaus doesn't rise to the bait, just smiles - again with those damn smiles - and walks away.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Caroline goes home.
Doesn't matter where she goes, or for how long, there's a compass inside of her that never stops pointing towards this little town in Virginia. Or it used to be like this, anyway. It was her one constant in life. Now it feels a little shaky and she isn't sure why. It's the world-splitting thing, she thinks. It's gone and messed with her balance, feeling like she owns half of it.
Mystic Falls will always be her home, her tiny place in the vastness of the universe. That's the thing Klaus doesn't get, the fundamental thing he failed to understand. The world is too big, but here, in her place, Caroline doesn't feel so lost, doesn't feel so small. She feels just right, in control, and she likes the sense of purpose it gives her, the sense of order. Out there, everything is chaos and uproar, which can be fine for a while, in small doses. But, at the end of the day, all she wants is to go back home.
One of the many plus sides of knowing somewhere like the back of her hand - better than the back of her hand - is that she never runs out of hiding nooks whenever she feels like disappearing for a while; but since she was a little girl, the lake was always her favorite.
There's a spot a little further away from where people usually gather, conveniently hidden behind a big rock. She's been hanging out at the lake since ever, going to parties and getting shitfaced, making out with guys with too rough hands who threw kisses like punches. But that spot behind the rock was just hers. Until she took Klaus there, that is. Such a rookie mistake. Never share your personal things with significant others. They will steal it away from you.
Klaus started spending hours there, drawing. Sometimes the lake, sometimes Caroline. She used to appreciate the fact that he seemed to love her spot just as much as she did, used to love to watch him work, the line of concentration between his eyebrows when he was trying to capture something to perfection. Now, though...
Every time Caroline goes there, she thinks of him. She's never alone anymore.
The last time she went to the lake with him, it was a summer afternoon and it was too hot to stay indoors. Klaus lied down next to her, absently talking about going to New Orleans for a while, to visit his brother. He always used Elijah as a shield when he wanted an excuse to get away. She couldn't really pick a fight about him visiting family, although she knew only too well the real reason he was going. Every time he came back, there was less of him.
"Out of sight, out of mind," she said, bitterly.
"The absence makes the heart grow fonder," he retorted, leaning in and kissing her.
"Mine is already as fond as it'll ever get," Caroline said. He smiled then, one of his cryptic smiles, and kissed her again.
She thinks maybe she should invite someone else to go there with her, Bonnie or Elena, someone to erase all traces of Klaus, replace the imprints he's left all over.
And then she thinks, What's the point? The imprints aren't really on the lake, she carries it around with her. There's a whole part of her that she won't ever get back, not entirely.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Caroline wakes up one morning exhausted after a long week that she should've spent writing her book, but that she spent doing just about anything else she could think of. She wants to rest, to stay in bed for a month, but again she is overtaken by that desperate need to get away.
California, she thinks. Out of nowhere, California. She wants to feel the sun on her skin and listen to the sounds of the ocean for a change. Calm her soul. She wonders vaguely about who got California; she doesn't think it was her, but she also doesn't think it was Klaus. Maybe they just forgot about it. She doesn't really like the sound of that, of something that is, by rule, theirs, but she goes anyway. She can't imagine Klaus would ever claim California, anyway. It's not really his thing.
She books a ticket online and, two days later, she's got her feet in the sand.
It probably says something about him, or about them, or maybe about her, that Klaus finds her there. She's sitting at a café overlooking the ocean in Santa Monica, reading a magazine and eating a piece of cake, when Klaus comes over and pulls himself a chair like that's the natural thing to do.
"What are you doing here?" he asks. He asks. The nerve.
"What am I doing here?" Caroline retorts, getting her hackles up. "It's not yours."
"It's not yours either." He's wearing sunglasses, so she can't see his eyes, but she can feel them, and the smug little curve of his lips tells her everything she needs to know.
"Well, I'm claiming it now."
"That's not how it works."
"Then what do you suppose we do?"
He seems to ponder over the matter for a moment. "I don't know."
Caroline snorts. "What are doing here, Niklaus?"
Klaus laughs. "I don't know. Nothing."
They sit there for a while, the sun and the heat and the silence heavy with implications. Caroline looks at Klaus and maybe he's looking back at her, she can't tell, and she thinks, Ok. This is not so bad. She wants to tell him to order a coffee or a cake and stay for a while longer, but Klaus stands up.
"You should get some rest, love," he says, like he knows the whole story of what her life's been like since he left just from those few minutes of non-interaction, just from looking at her.
He walks away and Caroline calls out, "I want California!"
He doesn't reply.
She orders more cake.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
October rolls around and Caroline's deadlines are all banging on her door. She feels the pressure of it somewhere in her chest. It shouldn't be this hard, she thinks. It was never this hard before, although she can't really tell what before is. Before Klaus? Before things got sour? Before she let him go? Before she told him it was ok to walk away and made everything worse? She doesn't know. She doesn't seem to know anything anymore these days.
It's another day she should spend sitting in front of her laptop, but because she fears breaking under the strain, she goes through her things instead. Caroline starts making piles of clothes she doesn't want to keep until there's almost nothing left in her closet. She finds one of Klaus' old t-shirts, one he loved in spite of all the holes she can fit her fingers through. It says London Calling. She bought it for him as a joke, many, many years ago. It has tiny specks of ink all over it, from all the times he wore it to paint. It's my creativity magnet, he used to say when she started teasing him about how there were homeless people wanting to donate him some shirts.
Her heart lurches a little.
She puts the shirt on and takes a picture of it in front of a mirror and sends it to Klaus, saying, Finders, keepers.
I don't remember that being on the list, he replies.
He really doesn't get how this works.
Caroline leaves the shirt on and goes back to her laptop.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Next weekend, she gets a postcard in the mail. It's a night view of the Jardins du Trocadéro with the Eiffel Tower all lit up on the back. She doesn't have to flip the card and read the back to know who sent it. He's trespassing, the bastard.
There's a single line written. Thinking of you.
Caroline starts three different texts in response. You know Paris is - and Why are you such a - and Me too. She doesn't send any of them.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
It's Stefan's birthday and Elena is a little past the tipsy line, saying something about how life is all about peaks and valleys. It's meant to be encouraging, like a pep talk, but she lost sight of her point a long time ago and Caroline has no idea what she's talking about, but she feels very weird that Elena keeps her eyes firmly on her while she says, "Everything has its ups and downs."
She goes home later that night and starts thinking about it. About her peaks and valleys.
Peak: sent five chapters to my editor this week.
Valley: it was a month after the due date, now I have three weeks to write ten chapters.
Peak: getting sent drinks by three different guys in one night at the bar.
Valley: didn't feel like talking to any of them, even though they were all very decent, used the 'have a boyfriend' card, which is lame when I haven't had one in months.
Valley: six months without having sex.
Valley: actually, no. That's seven.
Valley: will anyone ever feel right again?
She realizes she's not exactly in her right mind when she texts Klaus, How do you do it?
He replies not long after with, Is this a game? Am I supposed to guess what you're on about?
You're supposed to answer.
In that case, the answer is I don't know, love.
Caroline writes back, I'm not your love. Don't call me that again, and only regrets it once its sent.
She makes up for her anger by impulse-buying a ticket to New Orleans.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
It's New Year's Eve. She's already had more to drink than she should. Stefan comes to sit next to her, in her dark, little corner of the party at his house, and he asks, "What are you doing, Care?"
She thinks maybe Stefan understands it, understands her, without her having to explain. It was a good thing she decided to keep him. She almost tells him that, that Klaus wanted to take him away like he took Tyler (he really did, Tyler moved to New Orleans just a month after Klaus, surprising no one), but then Stefan says, "You should just tell him the truth. Whatever it is that you said, just take it back."
She thinks, No way, because she had meant it, sort of, and she doesn't want to take it back. Why should she?
What she says is, "What makes you think I said something wrong?"
"Didn't you?" Stefan asks, eyebrows arched.
Caroline huffs out, annoyed. "I should've let him have you," she says, and walks away.
Midnight comes and goes and no one tries to kiss her, although there's plenty of hugging to go around. This time last year she was hosting the New Year's Eve gathering, and someone did kiss her, and things weren't exactly great anymore, but in that second, that one, blissful second, all Caroline felt was love. She misses feeling love and nothing more.
She goes home alone and dreams about Klaus and the spot behind the rock. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn't it, love?" he's saying.
"There's only so much a heart can feel before it bursts," she replies. "And then there's nothing left."
"Is that so?" He smiles, not wolfish or smug, but soft, and then he leans over and kisses her neck. Something about that makes Caroline hot and cold at once.
"Stop it," she says, and Klaus does.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
She calls Kol when she gets to New Orleans and he's eager to take her out to dinner. Too eager, perhaps.
"I love this place," he says. "Their gumbo is my absolute favorite."
"I'll have that, I guess," she says, and that's when Klaus walks in with a group of people. Rebekah and Tyler amongst them, and some girl she's seen on Tyler's Instagram - Helen? Heidy? There's a handsome guy with his arms around Rebekah and a blond woman who seems enraptured by something Klaus is saying, won't even blink as she looks at him with adoration. Caroline immediately dislikes her.
"Oh," Kol says, beaming like the funniest thing in the world just happened. "Did I forget to mention this is Nik's favorite restaurant? Oops."
"Why did I ever keep you?" she asks. Kol frowns like he's got no idea what she means, ready to demand an explanation, but that's when Klaus sees her, sees them. She knows the second it happens by the way he hesitates, his eyebrows shooting up.
He excuses himself and comes over. Klaus Mikaelson has never seen a fight and backed down. He slides into their booth, on Kol's side, and smiles like this is all perfectly normal. "Hello, brother," he says to Kol, and then, to her, "I thought we had an agreement."
"Did we?" Caroline asks, grinning.
He laughs, shakes his head. "The gumbo here is terrific." He pats Kol on the back and goes back to his group, to the blond girl who, Caroline notices, stared at their table the whole time Klaus was there. Bitch.
"Would you care to fill me in on what just happened?" Kol asks.
"You don't know?"
"Not in the slightest."
Caroline stops, considers sharing the story of how his brother and herself split the world in two so they would never have to bump into each other again but keep on doing exactly that, like the world's the size of a nut.
"Nothing," she says after a moment. And it's the sad, vicious truth.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Caroline doesn't care - she doesn't care at all. It's not what this is about. Her going online to check on all the raving reviews on Klaus' new exhibition and the virtual tour of the gallery is just curiosity. A detached sort of interest. Nothing more.
It's beautiful. There's a progression from painting to painting, like a symphony built in colors. Starts out calm, with light tones and gentle, precise strokes, escalating until, by the final pieces, it's as though the pictures are screaming. They feel raw and wild, bleeding with abstract emotions that Caroline can, somehow, relate to. It's incredible. She's always known how talented he is, always been fascinated by his work, she's a fan. But this is in a different level. Unlike anything she's ever seen.
She is crushed for a second before she remembers that she's not supposed to care. Klaus left, she let him go, and so whatever comes out of that, whatever happens after, is none of her business.
She does remember, though, what he looked like as he worked, his face when he got so deeply lost in what he was doing it was as though he was transported to a different place. If she closes her eyes, she can see him as he attacked those canvases, the glint in his eyes, the worry on his lips, the flick of his wrist, the way his back muscles flexed with each movement.
"You only like me for my art," he used to say. "Is there anything else?" she would reply. He would laugh, or sometimes he'd just smile, that knowing dimpled smile that still haunts her.
"I wonder if you would still have wanted to kiss me if you hadn't seen me at work," he mused once. He'd been painting when they kissed the first time. It was a huge turn on, Caroline has to admit - they had sex on the floor of his studio, which was not exactly comfortable and she was still finding ink smudges in weird places a week later, but it was also the greatest orgasm she'd ever had in her life up to that point, so it was all worth it. It had nothing to do with his painting, everything to do with the intensity in his gaze. "I want to kiss you all the time and art hasn't got a single thing to do with it," she told him, and Klaus grinned against her skin.
Caroline remembers all of that as she looks at the photographs of his vernissage at the gallery's website. Some big names she's seen or heard of before from his previous exhibitions, some big names that are new. Rebekah looking irritatingly stunning in a cocktail dress, as always. Elijah looking proud. Kol's nowhere to be found, which Caroline takes as a personal victory - he's hers, after all. But the blond girl is there again, looking pretty and bedazzled. She can't believe this is the kind of girl Klaus goes for now, a freaking groupie.
She's annoyed and overwhelmed at the same time, so she takes out her phone and texts him.
You used to be better than that.
Which she realizes - is deliberately vague. Maybe she's feeling a little spiteful. Maybe she doesn't want to undo the misunderstanding, doesn't want to clarify that she means the girl, not the paintings. Maybe she did it on purpose. But it's only because she doesn't care.
She doesn't hear back for hours.
I used to be a lot of things, he writes. And so did you.
And Caroline doesn't know what to say to that.
I'm sure you're on the right path. Keep it up.
And that's… Awful. Just awful.
She regrets it the moment she lays her head on the pillow.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
She doesn't hear from Klaus again after that. She texts him once, a picture of his copy of The Idiot that she found lost somewhere amongst her own books. Maybe it's time to finally give it a chance?, which is the closest to an apology she'd ever get, but Klaus never writes back, and she doesn't care, doesn't care, doesn't care.
Bonnie and Elena invite her to go to Florida on a girls' weekend getaway. Caroline thinks it's brilliant. Florida is on Klaus' list, God knows why - but she says yes anyway.
Klaus won't be there. He'll be in New Orleans, with his successful exhibition and his pretty girlfriend, exactly where he should be.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Klaus is in New Orleans, until he's not. Suddenly he's in Mystic Falls, sitting by the bar at the Grill having a drink with Stefan like this is where he should be - in her city, with her friend.
Caroline turns on her heels and leaves without saying a word, suddenly inexplicably nervous and also, maybe, inexplicably happy.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
She doesn't see Klaus for a while and is starting to wonder whether she even will when he shows up at her house, late. He stands on her doorstep and smiles when he sees her through the glass on the door.
It's so very casual. He just shows up out of the blue, not bothering to call or text to let her know he'd be dropping by, to ask whether he could. He's got that smirk in his eyes like he used to when he forgot his keys and she had to get out of bed to let him in.
He doesn't look at her judgmentally, but Caroline feels exposed all the same. They ended things for a reason and it was nobody's fault, not really. But it's been a while and she hasn't changed in the months they've been apart. She wears the same flannel pajamas that are actually her favorite but that she only started to wear around him a few months into their relationship, once they were intimate and she felt confident enough, because it's so unflattering and the least sexy thing she owns. The house still looks pretty much the same as it did when he moved out, save for a few empty spaces where his things used to be that she hasn't bothered replacing. Even her book isn't finished yet. Every time she thinks she's progressing, she gets a frustrated e-mail from her editor asking what the hell has happened to her.
Her life hasn't really moved on since he walked out. His, on the other hand, has taken off.
Caroline feels awkward and inappropriate and nervous. Like maybe she should have something to show for herself and hasn't. She feels empty-handed, found out. Half of her had been hoping he would show up, but now that he is here, she isn't sure she wants him to be.
He seems so casual... She doesn't like seeing Klaus like this, she realizes. Like they're exes capable of courtesy visits just to say 'Hello, how are you?'. They're not on that page. They've never been. Running into him all over the world was one thing; defiantly going to his backyard was a challenge, a triumph even. But this... This is different. It's her turf, theoretically she should be more confident, but maybe precisely because of that Caroline is all kinds of vulnerable, like she's got nowhere to hide.
Or maybe it's because she misses him so goddamn much and has just about run out of ways of pretending that she doesn't.
Her heart is thumping and she wonders for a moment whether he can hear it, tries her best to keep her anxiety firmly lodged at the bottom of her stomach and off of her face. She looks at him searching, trying to read his intentions so she can be prepared, trying to mirror her nerves in his casual, casual expression. But Klaus is resolute.
Klaus says, "Caroline."
And Caroline realizes that what she says next is important, could be a watershed or a turning point or nothing at all, although she's not exactly sure what any of that means.
"Klaus," she says, and maybe it's the wrong thing to say. She doesn't know what the right thing is, or she'd say it.
"Florida was mine," Klaus says after a brief pause. "We agreed."
"I take it back," Caroline blurts out. "Not Florida, I don't care about Florida. I don't - I take it back. Everything."
Klaus' expression shifts, he looks at her studiously.
"Can you do that?" he asks and for once she appreciates the fact that they never seemed to need many words to know exactly what the other is saying.
"Yes," Caroline replies, although - technically, she doesn't know if she can or not. What it entails. But Stefan says she can, so she's holding on to that.
Klaus' smile softens. "I take it back too, then," he says. "Can I come in?"
"Ye - No," she says. Klaus' brows rise in mild surprise. "No. We're going out."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The lake at night is a completely different beast. You'd think it would be quiet, but it's so loud, and with Klaus standing next to her, her heart pounding in her chest like it's about to take off - it's louder still.
"Can you come back?" she asks after a while.
"I didn't think you wanted me to."
"What if I do?"
"Do you?"
She hesitates. This is it. "Yes."
Klaus is quiet for a heartbeat. "What if I say no?"
Caroline looks at him, her heart sinking a little. "Because of her?"
He frowns. "Who?"
"The girl. The one who's always looking at you like you're the Dalai Lama or freaking Bon Jovi. The groupie."
He seems momentarily confused, but then it comes to him. He makes a silent oh, amused. "Her name is Camille."
"I didn't ask for her name," Caroline says, slightly too bitter to be completely dignified.
"She's just a friend." He chuckles. "Jealous?"
"No," Caroline says, shrugging.
"There is nothing between Camille and me."
"I've seen the way she looks at you."
"Have you seen the way I look at her?"
And - fair point. Caroline was so busy trying to read between the lines and coming up with conjectures that she never stopped to notice whether Camille's bedazzlement was corresponded.
"No, it's not because of her," Klaus continues. "Can you come over?"
Caroline smiles a little, bumps her elbow against his. "Can't," she says. "New Orleans is not on my list."
"What if I gave it to you?"
She stares at him, somewhere between surprised and amused. "You would give me New Orleans?"
"I would give you the world, sweetheart. Haven't you realized that yet?"
Caroline meets his gaze, feels a wall coming down between them. She sees everything she's ever wanted, everything she had let go, everything she is certain now she won't ever find in anyone else. And she sees it all reflected there, on the corner of his lips and the glint in his dark blue eyes and the expectant lines on his forehead.
For a single beat, time stops. Becomes a frozen moment, like a picture. One she won't ever forget. Here is Klaus. Here is the face she got used to waking up to every morning. Here is the body she has all mapped out in her mind. The smell and the taste of it. The mouth she has dreamed of almost every night since he left; the mouth that has kissed her more softly and reverently than anyone else before, the mouth that hinted at so many wonderful things. Here is the man she loves. And Caroline realizes, "I just need my home."
Klaus smiles ruefully, looking down at his feet, then back at her face again, his questioning look melting into one of understanding. "I was afraid you'd say that."
She shakes her head."You are my home. You were always my home. Wherever you are - that's where I want to be."
Klaus' face lights up like a child's on Christmas Eve. "So you're -"
"Yes. Yes, I am."
Klaus laughs and then kisses her. Deep, yes, but gentle. The kind of kiss you give someone you suspect will be around for a while.
She hadn't been home for months. And God, she's missed it.