Not Quite a Century Love.

What inspired me to write this chapter so early: "The only thing that I still believe in is you. If you only knew."

A/n: Ok so originally I wanted this to be a serious romantic piece, but I realized I'm better at writing romantic humor. So this will have serious and sweet and romantic moments, but Caroline's POV is going to be neurotic for two reasons-that's how I view Caroline's thoughts and my personality sometimes rubs off in my writing and I am quite insane.

Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, then I would not be here writing on my computer, I'd be in so fabulous villa in a foreign country with numerous attractive towel boys at my beck and call. So no ownership here, bitc-….I mean suckers… censors my profanity anyway….

Chapter 2

Caroline's POV

I sighed as I stepped out of the shower. The air was hot and humid and filled with a fruity-vanilla scent. Strange how he'd said this was his bathroom but there was girls body-wash in the cabinet….I'd ask him about that later. After I'd worked out in my mind just why I came here in the first place. Ok, denial. I know why I came here. I'm just having a hard time accepting it. 18 years may seem like a long time to think about life and all that crap when you're human, but as a vampire, I was learning that it wasn't all that long at all.

I looked around the room and spotted my clothes. Said jean shorts and T-shirt had gotten sufficiently muddy from my, erm… out-door shower. Soooo….not putting that on in the near future. But what else is in here?

I was starting to get a little nervous that I may have to yell out into the hallway and inform him that I was um…sans clothes and had no way of fixing that situation. Luckily-or unluckily, depending on your sanity level- I spotted a dark blue robe hanging on the door. This presented two problems:

One- the most important one- it was his. Two-even if I did walk out there in it…what would I change into? Unless he kept spare woman's clothing around. Which, as I again sniffed the girly-scented air, was maybe not that unlikely.

So I opted for the only option I had-steal the evil hybrid's bathrobe…..I never imagined myself thinking that sentence. I laughed once at the absurdity as I put on the dark blue silk robe. It was actually very comfortable. And I had a hard time not noticing that it smelled like him-spice and a little bit of vanilla and something I couldn't think of that just screamed 'Klaus!'

I put away the thoughts of my accidental sniffing as I hesitantly opened the door and took a step outside of it, "Um….Klaus!" I called down the hall, half-hoping he wouldn't answer (I've had enough embarrassing moments with the Original today, thank you).

Malheruesment (I took French for three years in high school), he did answer. Faster than I could blink or take a step back, he was there. Two feet in front of me, with that ever present smirk on his face-the one I always used to want to smack off- and what looked to be a coal pencil tucked behind his ear.

"I was wondering if…wait, why do you have a pencil behind your ear?"

He chuckled at me getting sidetracked, probably finding me adorable, which only served to infuriate me once again, "Because I was drawing, Love. What else?"

My face dropped into a blank expression when I realized how stupid my question sounded, "Of course, you were," I mentally kicked myself as I regained my train of thought, "Actually, I was uh….I need clothes."

Instead of the feisty remark I had planned, THAT came out of my mouth. I realized a few years ago, that the longer I live, the more blunt I become. I won't lose my youthful looks, but I will apparently lose of all my tact.

He couldn't seem to stop chuckling at me. And I noticed, for the first time, that when he laughed at me it dind't sound mocking or angry or dark like most of his laughs that I used to hear. It sounded…happy, genuinely amused. The look in his eyes may've even bordered on affectionate. I shook my head at myself as I waited for him to answer.

"Of course, Caroline. Down the hall, second door to your right. There should be some clothes in the dresser there," he pointed down the long wood-floored hallway of his second floor.

I hesitated for a minute, staring at him.

His eyes never left mine, but after a few seconds, he started blinking in succession, almost uncomfortably, "What?"

I laughed at the uncharacteristic reaction I'd caused in him, "Nothing. I just wonder why you have girls' clothes stocked in your house."

I turned my back and walked down the hallway before he could respond.

He responded to my back anyway, "Rebekah comes to visit from time to time. That's her room, Sweetheart."

"Stop calling me that!" I fumed, almost growling, as I walked into the evil blood slut's room.

As it turned out, I was actually the same size as his bratty little sister, right down to bra size. I wasn't sure if I was relieved for the clothes or freaked out that he seemed to have feelings for someone who has such a physical likeness to his sister.

I chose a cute, loose-fitting, aqua-blue knit top and a pair of stretchy skinny jeans. I brushed my hair out and decided to just let it air dry this time. Not what I usually go with, but I kind of like my curls and also-who am I trying to impress? Oh, right. The jackass in the other room. What is wrong with me?

"Are you decent yet, Caroline? Because we need to have that talk now."

I rolled my eyes, "Yes. Geez, give me a second. You'd think you didn't live with a sister for a thousand years."

I winced as I realized that she'd been 'out of commission' for over half of that time.

The door flew open a minute later; he stood in the doorway with a strange amused, yet frustrated look on his face. He raised an eyebrow at me and frowned, "You seem to be dressed already, Love. Now if you'd please stop glaring at me and listen for a minute. Or better yet, tell me why you've come exactly."

I stood silent. This moment had been coming closer for over a decade now-not that I was aware of that then- and now I couldn't find any words to explain myself, "I…," I sighed, "I went back home recently. All my friends…I was so afraid that something might've happened to them…but they're fine. They're all great actually. And that shouldn't have made me feel alone, but it did. And something my mom said to me made me realize something. I can always go back and visit them, and I will- I will find them all- but it's not the same anymore. We're not all living the same, single life anymore. We've all branched out. And while it's fine for me to go see them for a while…I can never stay. It's their life, not mine. And my mom made me realize that I'm the kind of person who can't enjoy things alone. She calls it compassion, but I think I just have an incessant need to share things with people, talk to someone. And I know that Damon, Stefan, and Elena will always be around now, just like me. But they each have someone. And everyone else will…pass eventually. And I just….you said I could come to you. Years ago, you said that you would take me wherever I wanted, if I only asked. And well, I've been a lot of places now. But…I could never stay anywhere, not alone. And I've done a lot of thinking lately…I realized that…you're the only person I know who I wouldn't feel like I was barging in on. I didn't realize it til now and I still don't understand this one freaking bit, but…I think…I want to stay here, with you."

As I stood in the awkward silence I couldn't rein in my thoughts. What if his offer no longer stands? What if he never really cared for me? What if he laughs? Or worse…what if he kills me? I mean, he's not stable.

But he only stands there in front of me, expression thoughtful, reflective. But there's a new light in his eyes that makes me think that maybe my confession has made him happy.

He tilts his head to the side, "You know, I was proud when I heard you'd left that town."

All I could do was stare at him on confusion-where was he going with this? "What?"

He laughed and shook his head, "Yes, Love, I know this seems random, but have a few moments of patience for once in your life."

It really unnerves me how well he can see through me; isn't it supposed to take years to get to know someone like that?

I frowned and crossed my arms, "Continue," I couldn't help but make it sound a little haughty.

He rolled his eyes at me, but he was still smirking, "I know it seems insignificant, but do you realize how many people I've ever been proud of in my life?"

When I stayed silent, he chose to answer his own question, "Three. Including you. As a human, I was very close to my youngest brother. I taught Henrik everything I could think of. Hunting, swimming, sword-fighting. It's vague and far away now, but I remember the pride that made me smile whenever he picked up a lesson particularly quickly. The other is Rebekah. She may not seem it to you, but she is the most loyal member of my family. I've betrayed her more times than I care to count. Yes, she gets mad, but ultimately, she always comes back to me. She stays by my side. And most people don't realize how much strength that takes. I've never told her, but it makes me proud sometimes. The point is- it threw me off, feeling the warmth of pride for someone outside of my family."

He gave me a look that made me uncomfortable only because it should have scared me or felt awkward….but it didn't.

"But when I realized you'd left town….I just always thought that it would take you years to become tired of that place," he smiled a little and shook his head, "I should've known better. Anyway, you'd left after a week. It was impressive- the bravery that took, the wisdom to know that more lies beyond your town's borders. But still, you chose it quickly. And admittedly, that made me suspect that if you could leave on your own, you could live on your own. I thought of no reason why you would want to come back to me. Especially considering you left right after you found out I was alive. Not exactly encouraging, love, but then, did I ever realistically expect that you would chose me?"

I blinked. Did the Original Hybrid just admit that he had insecurities…about me, of all people? This is too weird.

I laughed, "Klaus, of course I ran. I'd just found out that the 'villain' of the story had been using my boyfriend's body to get close to me. No sane person would be okay with that. It just made me realize…that I had to get out. That I didn't know what I wanted….if I tell you something, will you promise not to smirk or laugh or tell anyone?"

His eyes lit up, intrigued, and he held back a smile as he nodded.

"I….liked it."

His brow furrowed, giving him the look of a confused little boy. When looks can be deceiving…

"I don't understand," he said quietly, as if afraid for anyone else to hear him say that. I briefly and spastically wondered if he had any of his hybrid lackeys lurking around….

"That's the real reason why I ran- because when I realized it had been you in Tyler's body for those past few weeks, I also realized that I had enjoyed that time more than any other time in my relationship with Tyler. Which could only mean…."

"That you preferred being with me to being with him…." he finished my sentence, in a disbelieving daze, as the corners of his mouth threatened to pull up in a self-satisfied smirk.

I nodded silently, afraid to admit it out loud. But there was just something about him…

Believe me, I knew how evil and cruel and manipulative he could be, but I also saw that that wasn't all he was. None of my friends saw it because the only side he ever showed to them was his worst one. But he'd been trying to win me over, so he'd shown me something else. And during that time when he was in Tyler's body…I'd gotten to know him without meaning to. I think my subconscious sort of knew that it wasn't Tyler. Tyler was a morning person; he had to be to get up at dawn for early morning football practices. But during that month, 'Tyler' had only risen before ten one time. Apparently, Klaus hated morning. It made sense, though. He was an artist; artists make beauty from their pain. And people with pain tend to try to drown it out in their sleep. And Tyler didn't speak like a mix between a petulant little boy and a 18th century poet. Tyler was straightforward with everything he said; Klaus could never be. There was also the little mannerisms that I picked up on, like how 'Tyler' would stick his chin out when he got mad. The real Tyler clenched his fits when he was angry. Or how 'Tyler' rubbed his fingers together when he was nervous. I saw someone different that month, without realizing I did. I saw someone that loves thunderstorms, but hates rain. I saw a man who is not capable of doing nothing for more than thirty seconds; he has to be active. I noticed that 'Tyler' was drinking a lot more scotch, sometimes even wine, and eating more strawberries. Tyler's favorite fruit was blueberries, apparently Klaus hated blueberries. I tried to put them in his lunch once during that month; I'll never forget the look on his face when he tried to pretend to like them. Maybe that's who Klaus really is- the man with paint stains on all his shirts, the man that loves old movies, really long books, and watching fires burn.

I walked up to him hesitantly and decided to show him I was serious by putting my hand over his heart, "You probably think I didn't notice. But you're not as good an actor as you like to think you are. I think I always knew, deep down, that you weren't Tyler. For all of your arrogance and pride, you two are very different people. And without knowing it, I got to know you, Klaus," I gave him my best reassuring smile, which probably looked like a grimace because of the two sides of my conscious having a wrestling match inside my head as I spoke.

But the radiant, uncharacteristic smile on the man before me's face erased all thoughts from my head. Well except one: Maybe this is right after all….

Because, really, when is showing someone compassion ever a bad thing?