Title: Who am I?
Pairing: Caroline, Klaus
Genre: Romance, Drama
Summary: (AH/AU) When Caroline wakes up, she finds herself oddly in an unfamiliar environment. And the worst part is, she doesn't remember anything or anyone except her name, but a stranger claims that he is her husband.
Note: So here's the another story, a shorter one. It'll be either one shot or three parter. Depending on your interest. Reviews are always welcome=)
And I mean no offense to anyone. Inspired with '50 First dates' movie.
***Who am I?"
The morning sun rays fell upon her causing a frown upon her face.
With a loud gasp she sat up in a bed. Her eyes were wide as she tried to focus. Slowly she turned around to check out her surroundings.
To her right, there was a glass door from where she could see an open swimming pool. It was small and kind of private. The water in it was still. Running a hand through her hair, she turned to other side.
She could see a blonde was hesitantly gazing at her. It took a moment to recognize that she was staring at a mirrored wall. She squinted at her reflection while tilting her head.
Her body was naked under golden satin cover. A set of blue eyes were coated with bewilderment.
Many questions were travelling in her mind.
Where was she?
She didn't remember anything except her name.
Her name was—was—Caroline.
Caroline Forbes— Mikaelson.
And how did she get here?
Then there was a door click sound which made her jump slightly. The dark wooden carved door was opened to reveal a man.
She became cautious with the presence of stranger. But she didn't miss warmth his dark blue orbs displayed. Sort of familiarity she felt with those eyes. And again his devilish smirk raised question.
He was in pajama pants which hung loosely from his hip making her blush a little. Her eyes ran over his lean muscles and abs. There was a coffee mug in his hand as he walked inside, towards her. Caroline gathered sheets around her to cover her body, in response.
"Good morning, love." He grinned, pointing mug at her direction. She curled herself up when he settled on bed in front her.
He smiled warmly, "It is fine, Caroline. You can trust me."
She wanted to, but again— how did he know her name?
"I'm your husband," he mumbled touching her hair affectionately. She was still in a haze of confusion. Husband? Caroline blinked a couple of times before he stretched out his hand. "Take this."
She glanced between his hand and his face. Could she believe him?
Hesitantly she took that mug from him. "Th—thanks." She replied hoarsely. Her voice felt strange to her ears. Was it how she would sound? Like a box of stones.
She coughed a little and sipped in her coffee. Slowly her headache began to vanish as she was done with half of the mug.
Whenever he stroked her cheek tenderly, she would flinch. She was very cautious.
It took her moment to think about her situation. Why couldn't she remember anything?
"You've a problem, Caroline. You can't remember things," he began to speak in thicker accent. He was speaking accordingly as if he was reading her. "That's called amnesia. Well," he sighed, "To be specific one type of amnesia."
She had no idea what was he talking about, expect she got the part she couldn't remember things.
"Why?" she mumbled a question. This time she sounded better.
"Because you were in an accident last year. You hit your head, pretty hard. Since then you're suffering from this disease."
"What were you doing then?" she was still suspecting him. He could say that.
"I got hurt then. You were coming for me in that snowy night. I warned you not to come because it was a small hurt. But you—" he huffed, "You are one stubborn woman I ever met."
She raised brows, "Am I?"
He chuckled watching her expression, "You are. That's one of the reasons why I love you, sweetheart."
Caroline's stomach churned up hearing those words. Her husband moved closer to her and pushed her into more inconvenience. "Relax, love. I know what's there under these sheets." He claimed smugly, "I had discovered every inch of your body. Like for thousand times?"
Her cheeks were flaring with heat and changed into deep shade of pink. She looked upon the floor and found discarded clothes around. Sensing her trouble, he smiled stiffly before he reached for his shirt on the floor and gave it to her.
She took it without making any sound and waited for him to leave. But he simply sat there enjoying her responses.
"Um, will you wait outside—?" She asked while blushing.
"Sure, wifey," he sniggered, getting up and kissed her cheek taking her by surprise. He was at door when he got to hear her question. It caused him smile, but a painful one.
"What should I call you?" she asked.
He snorted. He was in that condition where he had to give his name to the woman he was in love. Her husband turned half way back as he replied.
"Ni—Klaus. Klaus Mikaelson."
***Who am I?***