A/N: This was written for the lovely MissBootjah for the Klaroline Winter Wonderland Gift Exchange. I'm sure you've all heard of her, but in case you haven't, go check her out!

This story was heavily, heavily influenced by L. Frank Baum's The Wizard of Oz and the book/musical version of Wicked. If you've also never heard of any of those, I suggest you check them all out.

It may read slightly OOC, but I really pray it isn't too distracting.

Enjoy!


We Are Forbidden

He hears footsteps outside of his office door, so quiet it's a wonder he can hear them at all. They pitter across the floor slowly, deliberately, like they know exactly where they are going. He is not frightened. After all, he is the wonderful Wizard of The Falls. Nothing can harm him.

Placing his quill on his desk, the Wizard scrapes the legs of his chair against the wooden floor and stands, smoothing his robes in preparation. He moves to the small mirror in his study, inspecting his features. His hair, glowing a deep brown in the candlelight, stands atop his head, a result of his fingers threading through it as his stress levels rose earlier in the evening. Bags of sleepiness and weariness hang beneath his blue eyes, but there is nothing he can do about them at the moment.

Slipping his fingertips inside of the small glass of water by the mirror, he flicks the droplets over his hair and attempts to smooth it down, grinning slightly when he sees improvement.

The footsteps have silenced. The Wizard backs away from his mirror carefully, listening as the door to his study creaks open. He turns, facing the intruder as they make their way into the room. His heart races, but he keeps his face calm. Indifferent.

"You're late." He speaks first, he always does. She is too afraid to open her mouth while in his castle. There are guards everywhere, always keeping watch. Though she is able to sneak by them with no problem, she never truly relaxes until she is outside once more.

"I know," she whispers, her soft voice dipping into his skin and warming him from the inside out.

He has been waiting for this all day. He has been waiting for her.

The Wizard watches her now as she stands awkwardly in his study, her golden hands glowing by her sides. Her hair, curled and an ashy blond, rests against her darkly clothed shoulders. He longs to run his fingers through it, but she is always so terrified of his gentle touches. The face he has come to adore lifts in a small, apologetic smile, her pink lips, seemingly so out of place against the pigment of her skin, stretching just enough to cause his heart to plummet to his groin. She is tall, nearly as tall as him, but that has never mattered to either of them.

She is his, and he is hers—that is all that matters.

"It's dangerous tonight," she says shakily. "It's another Hunt Night."

The Wizard nods, blinking once. He refuses to step closer to her, she must always be the one to initiate, but he offers a half-smile as if it can do any good.

"I know," he answers. "I tried to hold it off, but they're desperate to find you. It couldn't be stopped."

The girl with the golden, glimmering skin finally takes a few steps in his direction. They are tentative and careful, calculated, but they are enough to make his cold heart leap. She stops just short of reaching him, wobbling a bit as if she has to work to not jump on him. The idea makes him want to laugh.

"I don't blame you. Citizens of The Falls are crazed beings. I'm just the latest fascination." Her deep blue eyes, which look like pools of dark sea water in the flickering light offered by the candles, dip down to watch the floor.

His people are crazed, he agrees with that sentiment. They are mad. Senseless. Of course, they are all being led in the wrong direction. The woman before him is not who they believe her to be—she is not the evil witch she has been labeled as. Unfortunately, he does not know who has been spreading these lies. He suspects she does, but she has come to know he would have no trouble thoughtlessly murdering the one responsible for the rumours and has chosen to keep her mouth closed on the matter.

Silly girl, he thinks to himself as he watches sadness engulf her body.

The Wizard knows the people of The Falls would not be nearly as terrified of her if her skin did not imitate the sun. If she had creamy skin like his own, or dark skin like the leader of the Hunters, they would not look at her any different. But she was born with a shimmering exterior. She is different, and therefore feared.

He has tried for months to get them to look elsewhere for the person—or people, for all he knows—responsible for the heinous acts occurring in The Falls, but they have already found their scapegoat. They need not search any longer.

"It'll stop one day," he assures her, like he does every time they meet.

"Yes, when they have me in the ground," she retorts casually, like she does every time they meet.

He has had enough. Throwing away his own made up rule, the Wizard takes the final step forward and takes her hands. With a gasp, she looks up at him, her dark eyes swivelling around his face, taking him in. He stares at her with an intensity he can feel in his blood and tightens his hold on her.

"You mustn't talk like that, Caroline. I won't let them take you. Trust me," he says, "I'm the Wizard."

"The Wonderful Wizard of The Falls," she sings delicately, rubbing soothing circles with her thumb across the backs of his hands. She releases him, sliding her fingertips up his arms until they are planted on his face. He shivers at her touch. "You are Klaus to me."

And she is Caroline to him, not the Wicked Witch.

But he does not say that. He says nothing more as he grips her small waist, so thin because she barely eats, and moves her to the tiny sofa inside his study. He sits her upon it, crouching on the wooden ground at her feet. Seizing first one ankle, then the other, the Wizard removes Caroline's black sandals, placing them to the side before standing again. He pulls her to her feet and spins her around, his nimble fingers working quick to unclasp the hundreds of buttons holding her long, dark dress together. Shoving the fabric off of her shoulders, she then works to pull her arms free, the dress falling in a pile at their feet.

The Wizard—Klaus—turns her once more, his heart thrumming, throbbing, in his chest, the excitement coursing through his veins sparking like electricity, setting his blood on fire.

Caroline's cheeks have transitioned from pale gold to orange, a sign she is nervous. She would not admit to him out loud her anxieties, but he knows. He has watched her for years—he recognises the signs.

Not wanting to waste another moment, Klaus moves closer to Caroline and brushes her soft hair out of her face. She looks up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted. Tilting his head down, the Wizard captures those pink lips in a kiss, nearly choking when she roughly grabs ahold of his shirt.

"We don't have much time," she husks against his mouth.

"No, we do not, love," he agrees, his desire swelling. He breaks away to allow her to tear his shirt from his body. "So, we must hurry."


The affair between them started months ago, just after she had been declared the Wicked Witch by the Keeper.

The Wizard met her first during their schooldays at Whitmore University, but he was with Camille at the time. Caroline was the pariah, the girl nobody wanted to talk to because of her condition. He remembered ignoring her during his first and second years, too worried about his delicate social life falling to pieces if anybody discovered he had made friends with the freak who was good at magic.

Camille left him the week before they broke for summer of their second year and ran off with an older man, leaving Klaus, as he was known then, to speak freely to the girl with the golden complexion. She was shy, but she was cold—programmed to be that way as a result of growing up without a supportive family and without any friends. It took several days of writing letters to her before she caved and accepted a meeting with him.

Looking back on the time, the Wizard doesn't know why he was so adamant to see her. Why their lack of any semblance of relationship kept him from sleeping properly. He was plagued by dreams of her dazzling skin, her beautiful but rare smile, and would often wake in a pool of his own sweat, aching to find her. Still today, months into their secret involvement, he does not understand their draw to one another. He has before jokingly said they were born for each other, but the realisation they could never be together in the open quickly diffused the few laughs they shared.

Their friendship blossomed through letters over that summer before their final year at Whitmore, and though she would frown when he sat next to her during lectures and threaten to zap the smirk off of his face he continued to publicly express his fondness of her.

They never showed any romantic feelings towards one another. The Wizard was never sure if there were any romantic feelings to begin with. He and Caroline would sit together—unwillingly on her part—and study most of the time. They would not speak or exchange smiles. He would attempt to open her up, but each time she refused. It was the same way for their last three terms at Whitmore, only ever changing at their graduation ceremony when Caroline offered him the smallest of smiles that managed to suck the air from his lungs.

After university the two rarely corresponded. He was gaining traction in the political world and she was laying low, using her magical powers to help the less fortunate citizens of The Falls.

One day, months after he had been crowned the new leader of The Falls, attacks on the lower class towns began to occur. His people feared for their lives. After the first three incidences, an anonymous source came forward claiming Caroline Forbes to be the one responsible for the crimes against The Falls. Soon enough, the entire city blamed her for what was happening and she was quickly renamed the Wicked Witch. Posters of her beautiful face, contorted by artists to appear sinister and evil, were taped across the land until everybody knew to be on the lookout for the Witch.

He knew the rumours were false. His reluctant friend from school, the girl he had yet to shed from his dreams, was not capable of committing these acts. Nobody would listen to him, though. He may be the face of The Falls, but he grew up with wealth and status. His own people, the same ones who claim to adore him, think him to be a fool.

Exactly one week after the third attack, the Wizard had been outside of his castle returning from a lengthy walk when he spotted someone watching him from the bushes just below his bedroom. Moments away from shouting for his guards, the Wizard spotted something that snuffed his voice immediately: A gentle shimmer of gold.

Klaus—because he was suddenly Klaus again, no longer was he was the all-powerful, Wonderful Wizard of The Falls—walked slowly towards the bushes, noticing Caroline's eyes widen in shock, the realisation she had been caught slamming into her. He held out his hands to stop her from moving, from flying away on the broomstick he simply knew she had by her side, and was surprised when she did not attempt to flee.

He said, once he reached her, "I will keep you safe. Make sure they never find you. You can't stay in my home, but if you tell me where you are, I can make sure they are somewhere else."

"How can I trust you?" she had asked, her throat shaking.

"I know you aren't the one," he told her. "I know they've got it all wrong."

"How?" she asked, a single hot, angry tear slipping over her dark lower lashes. It slid down her sparkling cheek and she did nothing to wipe it away.

"I just know," he insisted. Klaus reached out to touch the salty droplet, removing it from her face with his thumb.

Instead of flinching away from him or arguing some more like he had expected, Caroline had leant into his palm and shut her eyes, sending down two more beads. It was decided then, in his heart. He would always protect her, even if it meant losing his own life.

Using a long since dead language they both had learned in their youth, Aramaic, the pair kept in touch through letters sent to and fro by Caroline's well-trained flying monkey, meeting only when it was absolutely necessary.

On one such occasion, mere days after their agreement, Klaus brought a starved and bleeding Caroline inside of his castle after she had run to him from the woods surrounding his estate. An accident involving her now-destroyed broom and a clever Hunter caused her to fall mid-flight. Klaus rushed her to his bedroom and sat her on his bed, inspecting her various wounds thoroughly. The one marring her eyebrow was particularly bad. One touch with a wet cloth had her squealing softly in pain.

"You can stay the night," he said, fists clenched by his sides. He was not a part of the Hunters, but they were beneath his rule. He knew each member by name. The need to slit all of their throats in retaliation for harming Caroline was quickly taking hold of him. "Which one of them was it? Did you see their face?"

Caroline had kept quiet, moving only to cross her arms over her stomach.

Klaus dropped beside her on the massive bed and squeezed her hands. She jerked her head in his direction. "Did you see them?"

"I can't stay," she responded.

Shaking his head, Klaus pumped her hands once, ignoring the thrill that ran through him at the comprehension she had yet to tug her hands away from him. "You can, love. And you will."

"We agreed it was too dangerous."

"Putting you back out there is more dangerous at the moment than keeping you here."

He was quickly getting angry. She was still the same stubborn girl he knew from Whitmore, only now her stubbornness could lead to her getting slaughtered by misguided fools.

"I promised to protect you," he said, sliding his hands up her arms to cup her broken face, "and look at what's happened. If I keep you here"—

—"This wasn't your fault, Klaus," Caroline interrupted. "I wasn't being careful enough."

"Then stay, just for tonight. Forget about being careful for just a few hours. Gain some more strength so you can better take care of yourself tomorrow," he begged.

Perhaps it was the blood loss, maybe it was the weariness finally catching up to her, but she gave a gentle nod, wincing when Klaus once again made contact with her wound using the wash cloth.

He smiled in relief. "Good. I'll get you some clothes to sleep in after I bandage this up."

With the gash above her eye covered in a plaster, Klaus went in search of a nightgown. His castle was large—the biggest building in The Falls—and he often had guests staying from other realms, meaning he always kept extra clothes for emergencies. Though the cupboard holding the clothes was difficult to find, Klaus eventually returned with a white gown he hoped would fit her. Caroline gave the garment a once-over before sighing and taking it from Klaus.

"You can change in the washroom," he said, pointing to the doorway inside his vast bedroom.

"I'll change in here," Caroline decided quietly, causing Klaus to nearly swallow his tongue. "Just close your eyes."

Caroline twirled her finger, motioning for Klaus to spin around. The Wizard did so, unnecessarily smacking his hands over his eyes when his back was turned. A few seconds passed in silence. Klaus heard the loud rustling of clothes being removed and had to work hard to level his breathing. He had not been in the same room as a naked female since being crowned leader of The Falls, and though this situation was not sexual in any way, he knew there was a woman behind him wearing no clothes.

"Okay," said Caroline, and Klaus took this to mean it was time for him to open his eyes. "You can look."

He turned and the sight before him startled him immensely. Blinking slowly, Klaus looked to his bed where he had left the gown. It was still there. Lifting his gaze, The Wizard met Caroline's unsure eyes. Her body was entirely on display, her golden skin uncovered and burning like the sunset.

Klaus could feel sweat building against his clothes, soaking through his pores and into the fabrics. Though he tried desperately to appear nonchalant about the situation, the blood coursing through his veins travelled south, building a slight tent in his trousers.

"Have you forgotten how to put on a nightgown?" he heard himself ask.

"No," came her soft reply. "I want you to touch me."

Klaus said nothing. For some foolish reason, he genuinely thought this might be a trick. Being played by whom, he couldn't be sure. Maybe they had a shapeshifter in The Falls. Maybe this wasn't Caroline at all, but rather somebody who had figured out he was helping the Wicked Witch. Maybe the second he gave into his carnal desires and touched her, he would be in handcuffs ready to be taken to the Keeper.

"Klaus, you can touch me," Caroline said, holding herself straight.

Unable to help himself, Klaus scanned her nakedness, taking in the way her body appeared to glitter in the candlelight of his bedroom, how it almost shone like a piece of freshly mined gold. It transfixed him, her skin. If he thought about it, it always had. While his schoolmates made fun of her for her complexion, he only ever found it brilliant. Beautiful. Being young and poorly influenced meant he was too afraid in their youth to ever tell her how much he loved the colours she brought into every room she entered, but they were not young anymore.

"You're beautiful," he breathed. "So beautiful."

Her orange coating turned to rust. "Don't lie," she demanded gruffly. She had been the Wicked Witch for just long enough to know how to transform her voice into the crackling one would expect from an evil hag.

It didn't frighten him. "I'm not. I swear. You are the most beautiful creature alive, I've always thought so."

Caroline remained still, compelling Klaus to stealthily step towards her. When she noticed he had moved closer, she froze.

"I won't hurt you," he promised.

"I know." Jiggling her arms, Caroline appeared to relax slightly. She straightened her back and unknowingly pushed her golden-painted breasts out.

Klaus swallowed. "Why do you want me to touch you?"

"I . . . because I do. I have wanted you since we were at Whitmore," she admitted bravely, a revelation which shocked Klaus. She ignored him at university. Put up with him in their final year, yes, but he always felt she did so begrudgingly. "And I don't know how long I have left, so I'm telling you now."

Her last words washed over him like icy rain water. His people were hunting her. Using bows and arrows and swords sharp enough to tear through stone. And he was powerless to stop them. All he could do was try his best to keep her safe.

"I'm not going to let them take you," he said, his tone swarming with finality. "I'm not going to let them take you from me."

Something snapped inside of him. Klaus nearly leapt the last foot in Caroline's direction, his mouth descending upon hers.

He wanted her, too. He had wanted her from the moment he saw her, but too many things—Camille, his own pride—got in the way of him admitting his feelings to her. Knowing now that she had felt the same way, at the same time as him, unlocked something dangerous.

Caroline gasped between his lips, and her breath, he felt, gave him new life. She clutched at his robes, held his body close to hers, and kissed him powerfully. Kissed him until his clothes dissolved from his skin and met hers on the floor, until they were one.


The Wizard strokes the Wicked Witch's bare back as they lay together in his bed. He watches his pink fingers leave faint marks on her skin that disappear immediately when he lifts his hand. This is one of three times Caroline has fallen asleep after they have been together—she is normally very good at flying away the moment they are finished, but she does not like to be alone on Hunt Nights. She's never been brave enough to admit to this, but he knows.

Shouts erupt outside. They come from the centre of town, but the Hunters are loud and angry. Their voices travel.

Protectively, Klaus throws his arm around Caroline and pulls her to him, listening to the chants as they fade away. Anger rises inside of him as it always does on Hunt Nights. How he wishes he could run into the herd of blind Hunters and rip them to shreds. He can't, though. He is not enough to overpower them all and neither is Caroline, and he knows nobody else in The Falls believes she innocent. They are happy to call her evil with no evidence. The Keeper's word is all they require.

As he presses his ear to Caroline's spine, listening carefully for the beating of her heart, he thinks again about his desire to run away with her, a plan she has refused many times since the beginning of their affair. He imagines taking a small amount of their things and climbing aboard her broomstick, flying over The Falls until they reach safety. He has heard stories since he was a child about a world not too far away from theirs. One day—one day soon—he will take her there, and they will live together the rest of their lives without fear.


"Wizard! Wizard!"

Klaus, busy at his desk in his study, startles. He hears one of the soldiers, Marcel, at the door, banging and shouting. He scrambles to his feet and goes to the door, swinging it open.

"What's happened?"

Marcel's dark eyes pop, giddy with excitement. He is wearing his red and gold Hunter's uniform. "They have her. They have the Witch."

A gentle hum trembles through Klaus's ears the moment he understands what Marcel has said. He can feel his knees buckling and slams his right hand against the doorframe to keep himself upright. Blood rushes in a giant wave to his brain and suddenly he is overwhelmed by a dizziness he has never known before.

"No," he croaks, his hands clenching into fists. He bangs the doorframe harshly, not registering the biting pain that runs up his arm. "Take me to her," he orders. "Now!"

Marcel nods, confused. The soldier turns on his heel and rushes out of the castle, Klaus by his side. The two travel through the darkened city, listening to the sounds of cheers as people celebrate the capture of the Wicked Witch.

Klaus pushes the anxiety and fear crawling beneath his skin away. He can worry when there is no clear way of getting her out safely. Until then he will hold his head high.

Marcel leads him to the Square, an open bit of land in The Falls where they tend to hold parades and celebrations. A small stage not normally there is set up in the middle. From where he is, Klaus can see five people atop it. One must be the Keeper. One other, Caroline. The rest will be Hunters.

"Ah, Marcel, you have brought the Wizard!" the Keeper, Stefan, exclaims. The crowd gathered around the stage go mad.

As he and Marcel approach the stage, Klaus spots a shimmer of gold next to the Keeper and has to stop himself from pouncing on top of the platform. They really do have her. The knowledge sinks steadily to his stomach. His throat burns with acidic, angry bile.

Breaking away from Marcel, Klaus climbs the three steps leading on to the stage and faces Stefan. He searches the body next to the Keeper intently, their body wrapped in black robes, their wrists and ankles chained with metal. She is not looking at him. Her eyes are fixed on the ground.

"Come to watch the public execution?" Stefan asks, tearing Klaus's attention from Caroline.

With a loud roar, Klaus grabs the Keeper's already-tattered uniform and shoves him backwards. Caught off guard, he releases Caroline and catches Klaus's forearms. Klaus sees momentarily Caroline go to one of the other Hunters, but his focus is on the Keeper.

"Unchain her," Klaus snarls. In the back of his mind he is remembering Plan A should Caroline ever be captured as being less dramatic, but the words public execution sent him out of his mind. Violence is the only solution he can think of now. "Unchain her or I swear to God I will kill you!"

Stefan laughs bitterly, his fingers biting into Klaus's arms until he has no choice but to let go. "You've been saying for a while that she isn't the one we should be hunting, Wizard, but could that really be because you two," he says, motioning a crooked finger between the two of them, "have been together this whole time?"

Releasing another noise that even to his own ears sounds entirely feral, Klaus lurches towards the Keeper once more only to be dragged back by two Hunters.

"The Wizard," Klaus says. "I'm the Wizard, you have to listen to me. You have to do as I say."

The people of The Falls, their shouts and protests are growing louder. Klaus cannot hear himself think. He looks to Caroline and sees her wide eyes full to the brim with terror. She shakes her head, silently asking him to leave her, to let them kill her.

"No," Stefan says, smiling. "You see, you may be the Wizard, the all powerful, all knowing Wizard, but I'm the Keeper of the Peace. I am in charge of the criminals that run rampant through your streets. I don't listen to you." Reaching to the side, he takes Caroline again and moves her in front of his body, a silver knife pressed against her throat. "You don't want me to kill her. You've never wanted anybody to harm her. Well, I guess we all know why. You love her, don't you? I can see it in your pathetic eyes." He presses the blade further into Caroline's golden skin, laughing wildly when blood begins to drip.

Klaus struggles against his captors, shouting for Stefan to stop, to stop this whole mess and let her go, but they only hold him tighter.

He promised to protect her, to make sure they never got to her. And here he is months later, a liar.

"We've got her chained up here, Wizard," Stefan cries, his voice loud and exhilarated against the cheers of the crowd. "The question now is, do you remember how we rid the world of evil magic?"

Yes. Yes, he does remember.

Fire.

The Keeper drops the knife to the stage and takes a step away from Caroline. From his pocket he produces a set of wooden matches and waves them at Klaus. "Fire is the only way to cleanse the soul. Don't worry, she'll only feel pain for a little bit. You know as well as I that evil beings melt when they're burned alive," he hums, opening the box. The Hunters holding Klaus step away, bringing him with them. "Say goodbye, Wizard."

Taking a match from the set, the Keeper swipes it against the coarse edge of the box. Fire sparks at the tip of the stick, contorting the lines of the Keeper's face so it appears he is snarling.

"No!" Klaus screams. They can't take her from him. Not yet. They're supposed to have time. "Please, don't!"

"Begging won't help either of you, Wizard," the Keeper barks.

"You're a sick bastard!" Klaus shouts, his throat tightening, his body going rigid, as the Keeper holds the flame closer and closer to Caroline's cotton-clad body. She holds his gaze for a moment, just long enough to mouth something he already knew—she loves him. "Please, just—just take me instead. Kill me instead!"

The moment the last words leave his mouth, the Keeper throws the match over Caroline, setting her ablaze. She screams, a gurgling sort of noise that doesn't sound human at all.

"No!" Klaus fights with all of his strength against the Hunters detaining him, but it's no use. He is weak. Tired and weak.

The Wizard's pleas and protests clash with the crowd's jubilation and he is forced to watch as the woman he loves, the innocent woman he loves, goes up in flames. Her howls die out quickly as her body disappears, but the celebration around him continues.

He does not know how much time goes on before the Keeper stands in front of his bowed, damaged body.

"Take him to one of the cells," Stefan orders. "I have plans for him, but they can wait until morning."

Klaus goes with the Hunters willingly, defeated. There is no point in fighting anymore. There probably never was.


He hears footsteps outside of the cell door, soft and unsure.

No, he tells himself. You're imagining things.

This is not his castle. Caroline is not there.

This is his prison and Caroline is dead.

Klaus rolls over in the small cot provided by one of the guards and faces the stony wall of his cell. It won't be long before the Keeper returns to take him to his own execution, a moment that cannot come soon enough. He has decided since they threw him in here that the Keeper is the one behind the attacks on The Falls. Caroline was most likely the only person he could be sure had powers. She easily became his scapegoat.

And now she's been slaughtered. The sacrificial goat.

A quiet turning of gears yanks Klaus away from his own head. He sits up, putting his palms to his eyes and wiping away the wetness that had gathered, and stares at the cell door.

This is it. His final moment of peace before he is put to death.

He is ready.

The door creaks steadily open, but it is not the Keeper nor any of the Hunters that greet his tired eyes. Klaus wipes them again, harder this time. Dreaming. He must be dreaming.

The figure in the doorway rushes to him, her golden hands landing on his knees. "We have to leave now," she whispers hurriedly, blue eyes looking up into his. "Klaus, come on."

"No," he says. He shoves her hands away. "I knew you'd be visiting me in my sleep, but I didn't think the dreams would be this cruel."

Dream-Caroline shakes her head. "It's me," she insists, grabbing his hands. She squeezes them before letting go and holding his face, thumbs padding across his cheeks. "It's me. I don't have time to explain, Klaus. We need to go."

Her thumbs sweeping against his flesh, the feeling it stirs in his belly, his heart, sends him to his feet. She has never before felt so real.

Tears bubble in his eyes and he does nothing to stop them from falling over his lower lashes. "How?" he begs, closing his hands around her own.

"Later, Klaus. It can wait until later."

Later. Later.

They have later.

"You're alive," he says, blinking water from his eyes as he looks up her and down. The mark the Keeper made on her neck has disappeared and there is no sign fire ever grazed her beautiful skin. "How are you alive?"

Caroline allows herself to smile at him. He rarely sees her smile. For a moment he thought he would never get to see her pink lips spread in happiness again.

"I told you, later," she repeats, dropping her hands.

She takes him by the wrist, but Klaus pauses, stopping her from taking him away. Turning around halfway, Caroline frowns. They are in a hurry, he knows, but his world just fell apart and came back together. He had resigned himself to death, now he is running away with the love of his life. She can give him two more seconds.

Klaus tugs his wrist free and instead wraps his arms around her, holding her so close to himself he can feel her heart beating through their clothes against his chest. He catches her ocean eyes, sees the life flashing in them, and kisses her brightly, not breaking away until the need for air seizes his lungs.

"Later," he agrees breathlessly, stars blinking across Caroline's golden face. "Later."


A/N 2: What did you think? It was really fun to write, so I really hope you enjoyed it. Now, go read everybody else's stories written for KCWW!

Thank you ever so much for reading,

LoveIsATemple