First Fog

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I swallow the heated liquor as I glance down the shined maple of the crowed bar, scanning the unfamiliar faces until my eyes land on him, seeing him. It was a kind of pain I never thought I'd have to experience ever again. I quickly turn my head so that he cannot recognize the desperate wanting that must be painted on to my features right now. My hands shake around the table top, nerves firing simultaneously. Familiarity, desire, anxiety. A forgotten keep of searing memories slide through my mind like a flash of heat lightning running, electrifying, through my body. My throat burns equal to the blush high on my cheeks, and I stand up on shaky legs to carry me away.

Truth be told I had been aware of him the second he walked into the packed club. There hadn't been a girl on his arm, but that wouldn't last for long. He's the ultimate. My entire body had always been aware of him, whether I liked it or not. I studiously forced my eyes not to search for him like I once had the right to. There was no way I was going to be that girl. We had ended things, quietly, a little over a year ago, and there was definitely no way I would pin after him like I'm sure he's had girls do, and like my traitorous self desperately wants to.

Really, it had only been a brief amount of time that I had stayed with the man. And I'm sure for him, I had been an insignificant blot of passion on his record, and I relied on this as I made my way back to my friends. There was no way he'd recognize me, no way. I was different than I had been.

To be clear, there was a time when I looked into those enchanting eyes and saw my future, what I thought would be our future. It hurt, badly, to see him again.

"Sorry guys, the bartender was taking forever." I mumble as I slide back into our booth. I met him in a booth like this. My friends shrug easily. I had been sent on a mission to get more drinks for the girls, but my obvious distraction derailed that by a mile. When had he not derailed all my well thought out plans?

My mind wanders as the conversation around me continues with easy lilt and, eventually, flowing drinks. I knock back a few more and am able to recover from my temporary slip up, my head bobbing to the music and a smile returning to my face. Must I be this bothered? Hell no.

"Caroline! Caroline! Come on, I have to go to the bathroom." Elena whispers in my ear, and I grin, fairly faded at this point. The world is spinning at my feet, and I'm still sitting. We stumble out of the booth without the slightest amount of elegance and I walk her to the bathroom, her arm around my shoulders. As I wait for her to finish up inside I lean against the wall, my ahead abuzz and fuzzy. It's then that I see him approaching me.

He's wearing a leather jacket. Usual for him, way too enticing for me. He wears his clothing like a model would, with confident and grace, except no one possesses the sexual litheness that he does. Do I have beer goggles on? He looks delicious right now, in his approach. My heart pounds. I stare. I could eat him up. I used to.

His face, once so dear and exciting to me, is now a mask that I have trouble reconciling with. His hair is shorter now, but I can still see the unruly curls that I knew imperiously peeking up. The lighter color of his hair does nothing to improve the darkness of his disposition. The stubble that used to cross his jaw is absent, and his features are sharper, leaner. Has it really only been a year? My body aches as we make eye contact and it feels like ages have past since I've felt that stare on me.

As if my body can recognize that an alpha on the prowl is advancing, it thrums alive. It, I, crave him. I've always been like that around him, as willing and ready as he is for that elusive connection that we had shared, and well. Klaus Mikaelson knows his way around a woman.

"Are you going to pretend you don't know me?" He asks, and I want to faint at the sound of his voice. His accent is by this time very diluted, but that seductive lilt, combined with his signature dark tones, is unmistakable. He cocks his head to the side as he appraises me, and I sigh.

"Hi, Klaus." I manage in response and a slow, almost shy grin crosses him before it's gone. My grin, I used to think possessively. Though I learned that nothing about him could be owned. With Klaus Mikaelson, you have to keep a keen eye or you'll miss something. A hunter never rests.

"It's been a long time."

"Yes it has." I can't tell if this encounter is even affecting him, but I'm quivering. He comes from a long line of schooled upper class patricians that never revealed their thoughts or desires.

"What are you doing in the city again?" He asks, and I ponder how to even answer this. He thought I left. I hadn't, I had just grown incredibly good at avoiding. When I left him, which make no mistake I did, I didn't want to be burned with all of the images of him with other women I was guaranteed to witness if I went to any of his frequented spots. I didn't want to end up the scorned woman that stalked the man who was too good for her. Klaus marks a territory well, and I avoided them this whole time.

"I never left." I don't want him to misinterpret my answer though, because to him I was gone. I still want to be. His eyes light up. I see this now as he does: an exciting chase. I've created a game.

"Are you going to come home with me?" He questions and demands and I almost immediately want to say yes. He steps closer to me, his lean body only inches away, and I want to lean in too. I don't. Forcing that part of me back, the part that itches and cries to connect and submit to his will, and well, him, takes a serious amount of effort, especially in my current state of intoxication. I look up into the challenge of his eyes.

"Quietly?" I ask, my heart still pounding. Where's Elena? I bless her drunkenness that is most likely holding her up in the bathroom, because I can't finish with him yet. I haven't finished deciding if I'm the cat or the mouse today.

"I don't care how you come." He smirks and I smile. "But you will."

"Maybe I've changed," I say, raising my chin. There's a flush to my cheeks, I can feel it. I'm enjoying this way too much. Our brief interaction has been the most fun I've had since, well, since him.

"I can tell that you have." He murmurs quietly, his eyes running across my body. I take the chance away from his sharp gaze to actually breathe.

"Are you going to give up?" My addled brain is questioning him now. Does he remember all that went down between us? I do. Picture perfect, like his damn smile. Sadly, I don't think he does.

"No." His blunt answer is very typical of him. Klaus Mikaelson never really gave a shit about pretenses or societal niceties, and I had like that. Damn it, I still do. I shouldn't be, but I'm readjusting to the seductiveness of his accent, sliding into the comfortability of knowing you're going to be laid tonight, and very well.

"Klaus. You have beautiful girls surrounding you all day. Why me?" My drunken mouth has let this one slip, and his eyebrows raise fractionally. At first when I had met him this had been a huge turn on, that other girls wanted what I had. That his track record was well known and documented had set up a kind of challenge that I could conquer. Then I became sad with the realization that even if I left, I could be easily replaced by some six foot tall goddess, but there would never be another Klaus for me.

"You're beautiful." He asserts. Some how he had always known when I needed to hear it. "And because I want you."

I tilt my head.

"Mm, not good enough." I grin and he shakes his head, and then I notice over his shoulder Elena looking for me. I glance up again into that handsome, devastating face and inside I really do want to give in to his demands. But isn't the chase half the fun?

"It was good seeing you, Klaus." I murmur and a little v forms between his brows as he frowns. I've taken the upper hand. My favorite wayward pastime. I'm walking away, and then he catches my arm. His touch, after all these years, feels like sliding into satin sheets at home. Cool and calculating.

"When am I going to see you again?" He asks and I like that hes desperate enough to grab for me.

"You'll just have to wait to find out." I answer teasingly. He tugs a little harder on my arm.

"I've been waiting." He says, and his tone has almost taken on a serious, driving edge. That's a sound I've heard before. I keep it in my head that I'm supposed to be leaving him wanting more, not the other way around.

"Patience." I say and smile. There were multiple times in our shared past, mostly in bed, when he'd said that to me. A familiar smile crosses those to die for lips. When Klaus smiles, you do. It isn't something that you can help or that you think about, he's just so damn attractive and that smile melts everything in its path. Including my insides.

"That's not something I have."

"I guess you're going to have to learn." I say and pull away from his reach, towards Elena who still hasn't spotted me. I'm itching to look back. My face is flushed, my blood pressure is probably soaring, and somewhere deep inside me, I can feel a buzz that's waiting to be answered.

Damn him.

..

New story. It's been a while.

xx.