She heard what almost sounded like a footstep. The pressure of someone's weight on the ground, rather than a reverberation of the noise produced by a hard surface meeting another hard surface. She turned at vampire speed. There was no one there. No outline of human (or vampire) form through the gauzy curtain. No disturbance in the light material. She slid the dress the rest of the way up her body, satisfied now that she was alone. The fabric sat heavily on her skin. It was as though the silk beneath the embroidery was tired and wished to rest against her skin.
For a moment she contemplated the absurdity of the situation. He was Klaus. The killer. A man who enjoyed killing. She tried not to think about why he was helping her. She tried not to think about why her first instinct was to come to him and his family's trove of century old ball gowns when the fury of Elena stealing her dress had subsided somewhat. Once she had finished her rant about humanity-less Elena to him he smiled in a way that made her insides twist. It was intimate. As if he was a man who was used to humoring her. Obviously this was his fault. Obviously she wasn't giving him anything to misinterpret.
After she had helped him with the imaginary pain Silas had inflicted she went home quickly, suddenly uncomfortable with the look on his face and the tone in his voice. But the smell of his sweat was on the cuff of her sleeves. She immediately threw it into the wash. It had been stupid to goad him when he was in pain, but she wanted to prove to herself that he wouldn't hurt her, not even out of spite. He hadn't hurt her. Instead his gratitude had been genuine and earnest. Well done Caroline, she congratulated herself. She had only made the conflict within herself rage more fervently.
She stood now looking in the gilt-framed mirror, pleased with what she saw. The dress suited the colour of her skin and flaired just below her hips. It was understated and elegant. Maybe not the dress she had been planning to wear for months now, but it would certainly do.
Something caught her eye though strands of hair as she let down her ponytail. A sliver of plum red lips. The movement of golden eyelash. He was behind her. His look was appraising, but no longer amused. 'You were it well.' He said. 'Klaus,' she said his name on inhalation, preparing to say much more. 'Have a good time at the dance tonight, Caroline.' He said already on his way out of the room.