She almost didn't pick up in time. Grasping for her phone on the nightstand, temporarily blinded by the brightness of the screen, she squinted to see his name lighting up in synch with the buzzing ringtone. Her thumb pressed the Accept button just before it went to voicemail.

"Klaus?"

"Come outside," he said. Even though it was a demand, his voice was soft, making it seem more like a request.

"What?" she said, still half asleep. She rubbed her eyes and willed herself to wake up a little; she didn't want him to hear her sleepy voice. "What time is it?"

"Just do as I say. Please," he added the last word begrudgingly, knowing she wouldn't comply otherwise. "I'll see you outside in five minutes." He hung up on her.

She set the phone down on the pillow beside her, groaning. If he was calling this late— or early? She still couldn't tell— then there must be an emergency of catastrophic proportions going on.

Cami stretched out her arms, groaning again as she felt the movement truly wake her up; it was too late for her to roll over and pretend she had answered the phone in her sleep. She had to get up now. Whatever the problem was, it better be worth it if it was making her wake up this early.

4:35 A.M. That's what the clock on her nightstand said. She was going to kill him. Flipping on the lamp, she squinted against the light and fumbled with the comforter, trying to disentangle herself from the warmth of the blankets. Every movement she made just made her want to go back to sleep, ignore whatever emergency he was having.

But a small voice inside her— okay, a big voice, if she was being honest with herself— reminded her that she loved the attention. Every time Klaus came to her, needing her help, even just needing to talk or needing company, she could not block out the part of her that absolutely loved the attention he gave her. It was the same part of her that loved how much he needed her, even though he would never admit it.

Whenever she doubted herself, whenever she felt the anxiety creep into her head and tell her that Klaus Mikaelson cared for no one but himself, she reminded herself of how many times he called her instead of his siblings, or how often he asked for her help. He could have his pick of Hayley, or Elijah, or Marcel, or Rebekah. But for some reason, she was the person he would end up calling.

She stood next to her bed, her body adjusting to the cold that came with leaving the cocoon-like nest of blankets, goosebumps prickling her skin. With one final stretch, lifting her arms over her head and then letting them fall to her side, she yawned and walked over to her dresser. She removed her tank top, putting on a bra and a thermal long sleeve shirt. She went over to the hamper and pulled out the jeans she'd worn the day before, putting them on quickly before grabbing a pair of socks from the dresser and pulling them on as well.

Four in the godd*mn morning, she couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe he would have the gaul to call her this early; she couldn't believe she was whipped enough to do whatever he was going to ask of her. As she pulled on her layers, her coat, her scarf, her hat, her gloves, she mentally set some ground rules. If it involved some sort of bodily harm happening to her, she was going to say no outright. If it involved causing bodily harm to others, she was probably going to say, it would just depend on who it was.

She laced up her boots, grabbed her keys off the hook and deposited her wallet into her coat pocket. As she locked the door to the apartment behind her, she set her jaw. Just be prepared to say no, she thought to herself. Don't give in to the puppy dog eyes.

Meanwhile, out on the street, Klaus waited for her to come down. He paced beneath the streetlights, watching the clouds of his breath float into the air and then dissipate. It hadn't been this cold in New Orleans in a long time, almost as long as he could remember.

Almost immediately after hanging up the phone with her, his stomach tightened in anticipation of seeing her again. Hearing her groggy, half-asleep voice on the other end of the line had mesmerized him; it made him imagine what it would be like to hear that voice in person, waking up beside her.

He shook the thought away and instead focused on the present, imagining how she would look when she got down to meet him. He could picture her face flushing, two perfect round spots of red appearing on top of her cheeks. He wondered if she would wear a hat, secretly hoping that she wouldn't so that he could see the tips of her ears turn red with cold. Klaus didn't know why he wanted that, it seemed like it would probably be painful to her, but it just seemed so…. quintessentially human. So endearing, so fragile.

As he paced, he tried to keep his thoughts in check. His mind was racing with excitement, he couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she got out here, he couldn't wait to see her eyes light up with delight when she saw exactly why he'd woken her up at 4:30 in the morning. He stood across the street waiting for her to come down, hoping this would entice her to come all the way outside to meet him.

He heard her coming before he saw her, her heavy boots clunking out the front foyer of the apartment complex. She appeared behind glass of the front door, her hand on the handle, poised to push it open and come outside. Cami's mouth was formed into a question as she caught sight of him across the street, standing under the streetlamp.

The pep talk she'd given herself immediately fell away. Yell at him, she'd been repeating to herself in her head. Tell him he's got no right to wake you up so early. No matter how bad the emergency, don't let him off the hook easy. But when she got to the door, she forgot what she was going to say entirely. Her mouth, already partly agape in preparation for yelling at Klaus, fell the rest of the way open as she looked up at the sky from behind the glass. And she stepped outside.

Snow.

He had called her because he wanted her to see the snow. With him.

Cautiously, she took a step out onto the stoop, still under the cover of the awning. And then she went down the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. A look of amazement washed over her, and her eyes studied the sky and the tiny falling flakes for a full minute before falling on him as he walked across the street to meet her.

The expression on her face was everything he'd hoped for. As she watched the snow fall slowly, her eyes filled with wonder, he realized that she was a true rarity. Where he had become hard and cynical (which was only natural after having lived a thousand years), she still had the capacity to see beauty in the world, something he felt he lacked.

Cami smiled as she felt the snowflakes melt on her cheeks, nestle into her hair, slowly start to create a very thin white film over her shoulders. He felt a stirring in his chest, a sudden flood of warmth. And he realized that he did see beauty in the world after all. She was his beauty, and his hope, and his redemption. When the whole rest of the world was sleeping, when everything— good or bad— was at rest, he wanted to be awake and right here with her.

He came up beside her and watched her as she watched the sky. "It…it hasn't snowed in years," she said.

Something pulled at her gut and she had the sudden urge to laugh. It felt like a miracle happening right before her eyes. The flush of Klaus's cheeks in the cold, the snow falling around us, the way the flakes melted into his curly hair, the emptiness of the street. It felt as if the world had stopped turning altogether, as if all life had stopped save for the two of them. And that everything was frozen in time, motionless except for her and him and the snow.

She turned up her palms, breaking her gaze from the sky to watch the flakes disappear into the knit fabric of her gloves. And then she looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since she'd come outside, and that look of amazement at the world remained in her eyes. Snow was sticking to her eyelashes and he had the compulsive urge to kiss it away, to gently press the warmth of his lips against any part of her skin that might be cold.

Everything was silent as he took her hand and lead her out into the middle of the street, pulling her in close so that they were dancing like they had that night in the bar. He kept his face close to hers, his cheek nestled against her hair. A shiver rippled through him from being so close to her. Even though the cold was burning the inside of his nose, he could clearly smell the floral scent of her shampoo, the faint hint of laundry detergent and her own lived-in scent from her sheets still clinging to her skin.

They danced together in the middle of the street to no music for what seemed like forever. She closed her eyes and dreamed that he might hold her like this until the sun came up, and that he might come up to her apartment for tea as this tiny layer of snow now coating the pavement melted away as if it never happened.

Klaus's eyes remained turned upward, watching the cloud-covered sky, willing whoever or whatever was up there to allow it to keep snowing. If only he could stop time, if only he could stay here with her indefinitely.

He felt her head lift off his shoulder and looked down to meet her eyes. "Camille, I…" he really didn't know what to say, just felt the need to say her name. His words hung in the air as a cloud of his breath, waiting in return for a cloud of her own to escape her lips.

After a long moment, she said, "Thank you."

The snowfall, already pitifully minuscule, began to lighten even more, eventually into nonexistence. But still they stood in the street, swaying to imaginary music at five in the morning, each refusing to be the first to let go.

It pained him to be the first one to speak, but he could feel her shivering in his embrace. If she had known she was going to be outside for so long, she would have worn more layers. But she could have sworn that after the first shiver hit her, his arms had tightened around her ever so slightly. "You ought to go back to bed," he said, his voice hushed as he spoke close to her ear.

She shivered again, this time not from the cold. "I don't think I'll be able to fall asleep again."

"I could-"

"Don't," she cut him off sharply. "Please don't compel me. You know I don't like it."

He felt foolish for even thinking it, let alone suggesting the idea out loud. "You're right. I'm sorry. Can I walk you up?"

She nodded, looking up at him and reluctantly breaking their embrace. She wished desperately then that she didn't have to be so human, that she didn't have to face the failings of a fragile body, like succumbing to the cold. The thought scared her; she had rarely, if ever wished that she wasn't human.

One last time, her eyes turned up to the sky. Klaus reached up and wiped away a tiny collection of water droplets from melted snowflakes off her cheek with his bare thumb. His touch was warm, unnaturally so considering how cold the air was. She flushed under his touch.

An overwhelming urge to kiss him flooded her brain, and she almost took his face in her hands and pulled him to her. But she restrained herself, because as much as she tried to assure herself that he did like her, there was always that part of her that said she was deluding herself. And she was not about to make a fool of herself by making the first move if he did not feel the same.

Before she could act on her thoughts, she turned on her heel and walked back onto the sidewalk, watching out of the corner of her eye to make sure he was following. He smiled to himself as he walked a few steps behind her. As they climbed the stairs up to her apartment, he fought the urge to grab her hand, to feel the scratchy fabric of her knit gloves against the skin of his palm.

They arrived at her door, and Cami felt her hands shake as she tried to unlock it. Her cheeks burned red as she struggled, finally getting it unlocked after several long seconds. Klaus pretended not to notice.

The door swung open and she turned around, standing on the threshold. She knew he didn't technically need to be invited in since he'd already been invited in once, but she still felt the need to vocalize it. Nothing came out when she opened her mouth. Come on, idiot, she cursed herself. Just say "Do you want to come in?" It's not that hard! Still nothing came to her lips when she tried to speak.

Klaus's stomach was in knots, he couldn't think of anything to say either. He just kept thinking her name over and over again. It would be so easy to take one single step closer to her, to be in her space, to lean in and kiss her. Without thinking about it, he took a small step closer.

Cami turned her face up expectantly, her eyes darting down to his lips and then up again, almost too quickly for him to notice. Almost. Her eyes half closed, and then closed completely.

She felt a rush of air hit her face, and when she opened her eyes, he was gone.

Back at the compound, Klaus poured himself several glasses of bourbon. He had wanted so badly to kiss her then, and it seemed she had wanted him to, she had all but said so. But he could not bring himself to do it.

Watching her in the street, watching her eyes light up in amazement, holding her close as they danced in a street frozen in time, he knew they had just shared a private moment that the rest of the world would never know. And he knew that she amazed him just as much as the snow had amazed her. That was why he couldn't kiss her; he couldn't afford to find something special when so often the things he'd found beautiful in the past had been taken away from him in the worst possible way. He couldn't let that happen to himself again, he couldn't let that happen to her. He loved her too much for that, he knew it already.