Consider this a late birthday gift to the lovely chillwithJyl. Thanks for always being there with me and Beauty, your support means everything. Although it's almost 2 months late but better late than never, right? So… HAPPY BIRHTDAY dear!
Aaaaaand there will be more drabbles for the lost tales I haven't told or didn't have time to write about in Beauty. This one is about how Klaroline actually met for the first time in London, and it's not in the uni.
Enjoy and review!
Came Into Picture
There were times like this, when Klaus felt vexed for nothing in particular and for everything at the same time. Maybe it was the gloomy weather, maybe it was the shirt and pants Kol'd left on the sofa in the living room (obviously due to his physical activity with an unknown female company after he went to the bar last night), maybe it was the fact that school began tomorrow, which meant he'd have to start teaching again and he wouldn't be able to have whole days to himself to paint as he did during summer vacation, or maybe it was just all of above. Anyway, Klaus was fretful.
He threw the painting brush in the pot of water and left the uncompleted portrait of an angel there on the easel, annoyed without reason.
He'd thought about ways to divert himself from the fidgety mood but what he usually did when this happened, which was basically having an outing with his beloved Henrik, couldn't be applied since his little brother was at his Mother's.
That left him only two choices.
One, go jogging. The run and sweat always worked when he needed to calm down for a complicated piece of drawing. He looked out of the window and saw the dark clouds hovering above the city. Perhaps it wasn't that good of an idea.
Two, his favorite art supply shop. He'd been running out of reds and there was a certain gold that was bothering him whenever he drew lately but he just couldn't mix it out.
A tiny tour to the store for inspiration could serve as an effective distraction, he thought. So he threw on his grey Henley, dark jeans and leather jacket and went for the Tube.
It wasn't long before he hopped of the Jubilee line at Green Park to transfer for Piccadilly, and it seemed like the Piccadilly train from the airport had just left for there were numerous travelers with baggage staggering along the hallway.
He was walking down the stairs when he spotted a glimmer of gold in the corner of his sight. He whipped his head to his side and saw a blonde with a pile- literally a pile- of luggage, having difficulties moving up the stairs from the platform.
Usually, he wasn't the kind of people that stretched out hands to those in need and especially not on days when he wasn't feeling right.
Somehow- call it fortune, call it chance- he, by uncharacteristically deciding to help the suffering girl out, made a choice that one day he would come to realize that had changed the entire blueprint and path of his life if it was a game of Monopoly.
"Having trouble with all the shoes you've brought?" Klaus joked as he went over to the girl, unable to see her face, which was blocked by the tied-up tower of baggage.
He could feel her shoulders sag on the other side of the wall of luggage as she complained after exhaling roughly, "seriously, haven't you Londonists heard of elevators? I mean, it's not my fault for bringing four suitcases on the subway- a girl's gotta dress herself for the upcoming semester!"
"They're called lifts here, but yes, we've heard of elevators. You'll have to excuse the Underground system for not keeping up with the trend, love. It's practically a 200-year-old lady," liking her already, he chuckled, imagining how the girl with those heavenly gold locks and angelic voice would look like, "I see that you've chosen to arrive last minute before school starts? Universities in London starts tomorrow."
"Are you ever going to 'be a dear'- according to you British people- and help me carry these clogs up the stairs or did you just came to flirt with the poor American exchange student?" not answering his question at all, the blonde mocked a failed British accent as she tried to lift her heaped up bulk with the rope she used to fasten then into a tower, unable to see him from her side as well.
"Very subtle." Klaus teased but immediately lowered himself to lift the heavy pyramid up by its very bottom and gestured for her to follow suite on her side so the 'skyscraper' wouldn't tip.
She, with a series of exhausted sighs and yelps, did as she was told and with cooperation they finally carried her astonishing amount of preparation- clothes, shoes, accessories, books… the list could go on forever- to the floor where she could access the grey line.
Adjusting the shirt that had ridden up during the labor, Klaus concluded on his side, "that wasn't too hard. Better than waiting idly here for Tfl to renew the stations. They say lifts will be installed at the end of November."
"You British people really have to let go of history and embrace technology," the girl on the other side of the mountain of cases and bags giggled and it was the most pleasant melody Klaus had ever heard.
She was stretching her arm to shake him a thankyou and possibly even revealing herself from the blocking baggage-wall before she noticed the time on her watch, "oh my God I'm so super late! I'm supposed to be at the dorm ten minutes ago!"
Klaus tried to ask her where she was studying at and if she needed further assistance but she was rushing like a whirlwind, and before the words could come out from him, she was already gone with her wheeled luggage, leaving only a loud 'thanks but I really have to go' behind.
He still hadn't seen her appearance.
However, gazing after her diminishing back and the bouncing hallo of gold, he figured sometimes having space for imagination wouldn't hurt.
Grinning the widest grin in days without noticing, Klaus leaped down the stairs again, feeling optimistic for a start of a new semester for the first time in his 5 year teaching career. And at that time, little did he knew that the blonde girl he encountered was indeed a whirlwind. It was many years later when he accidentally put two and two together and realized his golden muse was in fact the whirlwind that had whisked him away, head over toes.
The one thing that he was sure about was that he finally knew what kind of gold to paint for the angel's hair that he left unfinished before leaving home earlier.
And that, was how Caroline Forbes came into his picture.
This drabble is also dedicated to the two gentlemen who helped me with my luggage at Green Park station and Heathrow. Although you don't know who I am and you've probably forgotten the poor girl with her cumbersome suitcase, I still thank you from the bottom of my heart. But seriously, every Tube station needs a hardware update.
-A