A/N: Don't really know what this is, but I was bored and didn't feel like writing my other fic so yeah. This is megafluff and it's AU.
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She always waits.
She sits on her porch and watches the sun rise and waits for it to set.
She sits in her bed, cuddled up with a blanket and a cold drink and watches movies. But she still waits.
Caroline Forbes, the girl who waited. She is no Amy Pond; she doesn't travel through time in a blue box and save planets from overlords or what have you. No. She's just Caroline Forbes, eternally seventeen and…waiting. Forever waiting.
There's this guy she's fond of. His name's Klaus and he's older than her. Like, really old. He's only about thirty in vampire years, but human years. Well, that's where it gets kind of blurry. Supposedly, he's like a bajillion. At least that's what she likes to think. It makes him more mysterious. More…she doesn't even have the words for him.
She just knows that she likes him.
See, he goes around. He doesn't stay in one place for too long. It was by chance that he stopped in her small, off the map town. It had to be merely a speck in his world. Yet he arrived and he saw her in town and immediately sparks began to fly. He asked her to dinner and they spent the night dancing, and oh how he is such a great dancer. She's never felt so light on her feet before that moment.
"I enjoy you," he told her just before she said good evening.
She smiled shyly and looked away. "Well, I guess I enjoy you too."
She wanted him to kiss her or something like that because it was the literally the only way that night could've gotten better, but he didn't. He opened up the passenger door for her and waited until she got in the house to leave.
Caroline waited two days for him to call her.
He took her to an art gallery, which was just in someone's very ritzy brownstone. It made her feel like she was in New York. Klaus was mouthing off critiques and making sure she didn't drink too much wine, because even though she's a vampire and she can hold her own, he's a gentleman. Oh, and she's still seventeen.
"Thank you for looking out for me, grandpa," she remarked once they left for the night. She had her arm looped through his and their steps matched as they made their way to his car.
"And you thought I wouldn't, love?" he asked her curiously, his eyebrows raised in that endearing expression he did sometimes.
At that moment, Caroline realized she may just have a keeper.
She waited two more days until he kissed her. She waited two more weeks until he finally accepted her invitation to stay the night.
"Stop acting like such a prude," she laughed as she pushed him back on her bed. "We both know you aren't."
"Truer words have never been spoken." He flipped her over onto her back and in between kisses and touches and moans he said he would show her what the world had to offer.
Klaus left the next week and he didn't say where. He just left. And Caroline waited because that's what she's good at. She waits and waits because he made her a promise that he'll show her his painting in the Hermitage. He'll even make her a princess of China or something weird like that.
Klaus returned the next month and Caroline asked him what was with the funny business, but he just said, "There's a lot you don't know, sweetheart. And it's best that you don't."
Then he kissed her and tried to make her forget those words with his body, but she never did. She always tried to figure out what that meant. What that will mean for them. Secrets are no fun. Secrets are no fun when you're a waiting girl.
She waited more, this time two months. No contact at all. Once or twice she thought him to be dead, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out what she would do if that was indeed the case. But Klaus returned just like he always did. More mysterious and aloof than before, quick to kiss her and distract her with tales of a war or some poet or artist she'd never heard of before. And she would listen. Oh, how she would listen. Dreamily, she would smile and add points she thought would fit because that's what girls who waited did. They waited and they didn't ask questions. Patience was supposed to run thick in her veins, and it did.
Did.
A year passes and Caroline is still seventeen, or eighteen what have you, and she's still vibrant and bright and happy like she's always been. She hasn't been to Russia, she hasn't been dubbed a princess of China, she hasn't seen Rome or Paris or Tokyo. A year passes and Caroline hasn't seen Klaus either.
But he's still here. Somewhere out in the world. She sits by her window and waits for him to come knocking at her door with presents. Jewelry or dresses or silk or perfumes. He always brings things back for her, but that's not why she waits. She waits because he's all she's got. She waits because as cryptic and distant he can be, she's all he has too.
She always waits.
"Did you miss me, sweetheart?"
And she probably always will.