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one: the bartender's solution
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"SURPRISE!"
He blinks. The blonde's smile begins to fall as she awkwardly waves her open arms.
Letting her arm's fall, she clicks her tongue, "Okay, admittedly expected more."
He blinks.
"You know, I paid for my own plane ticket so this could be an epic moment and you're ruining it," she scrunches up her nose and nods her head, "Like, a lot."
After a few moments of silence, Caroline reaches out and pokes his shoulder with her index finger. As his body leans slightly back, he lets out a breath.
"Caroline?"
"Duh!"
He blinks several times, his lips twitching. She rolls her eyes and steps forward.
Caroline wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her body into his was the second biggest surprise of the day for Klaus Mikaelson. The first being, of course, her actual presence. In front of him. In New Orleans.
"So, I get that you might be confused with the concept of a hug but it's really not that hard to grasp."
A brilliant smile appears on his lips and he tentatively brings his arms around her waist.
"Is this our new greeting?" he quips causing Caroline to roll her eyes. She takes the opportunity to have a gawk at his lavishly decorated mansion, though Caroline's view inside the mansion is limited she can still make out the time on the clock over the mantelpiece.
"No," she drags her front teeth over her lip, "I just thought it might soften you up."
He sighs, though the humorous intent behind it is clear, "Do tell. What is it you have gotten yourself into now?"
"Something bad."
"Nothing new then," he raises his eyebrows and blows away a strand of blonde hair that had fallen against his face. He removes his arms (however reluctantly) from around her and pulls back to examine her face. She smiles halfheartedly.
"I didn't know what else to do," she sighs, her right shoe sliding ever so slightly along her left, "I know that you're busy—" he opens his mouth but she continues quickly, "But I just can't—I can't let Mystic Falls be torn apart. It may seem stupid and reckless to you, but I have to do everything I can. I have to. Stefan— Matt, Jeremy. They all think things will just work themselves out and 'we'll find a way, Caroline'. I am so sick of just sitting around and waiting for Damon to come up with a plan. I mean, ugh! Klaus, I just—They're—"
He watches her struggle for the right words. She takes a deep breath and then sighs.
"This sucks. I forgot the speech."
Klaus smirks teasingly, "I'll give you a moment to refer to your notes, shall I?"
She scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest, "I didn't write it down," he tilts his head to indicate he doesn't believe her, "Well, not all of it."
His lips stretch into a smile and she halfheartedly glares at him. She looks into his eyes and feels like running away. Seeing him— the way he looks at her, she had never seen it properly before, not until Bonnie had pointed it out. That's what scared her the most about Klaus Mikaelson, his eyes. Not when they were wide, golden orbs of anger, but when they were squinting, soft rays of blue.
"I don't expect you to wave a magic wand or anything," she begins softly, "I just need your advice."
"Are you sure? Because I have quite the collection of magic wands."
Caroline flashes him a toothy smile, "Now that I believe."
Klaus steps backward and gestures for her to enter the mansion. As she steps inside he realizes that it's not just him and Caroline sharing a moment, this is New Orleans and there's war brewing inside every single person living here. Five minutes with Caroline had made him forget all his problems, all of the danger, and all of the reasons she can't be here. She smiled and he forgot the most important lesson he's learned in life—
You can't be happy and be a King.
Caroline can tell that Klaus has his serious hat on when they enter the small (in comparison to other rooms) study. Though he led her in with a hand on her lower back and a slight bounce in his step, something had clearly changed during the twenty or so steps. Not that it matters. She needs serious Klaus to help her, even though she'd feel far more at ease if he started smiling again.
"Tea?"
Caroline breathes a laugh, "Tea?"
Klaus extends his hand toward the white, chipped pot.
"Uh, no thanks," he nods, joining his hands behind his back, and Caroline begins to admire the room, "This isn't your study."
"No," he answers slowly, "How can you tell?"
She glances at the red, spiraled tapestry, the golden heirlooms and the neatly stacked books, "Just isn't very—you."
The corners of his lips quirk upward then—gotcha, she inwardly prides herself. She feels like she's allowed to breathe now, like she's earned the right to be comfortable with him. As she does, she examines more things in the room; the room with no paintings on the walls. She's surprised Klaus can even stand in it—not because she's snooped in all of his rooms in the mansion back in Mystic Falls and noticed there was not one room without at least one piece of artwork in it or anything—and who specially builds a mansion then decides to move? Well, without offering it to their mansion-less blonde friend—crush?—fling?—lo—
"What?" she snaps and he holds up his palms in mock surrender, "You were staring at me."
"You only noticed now?" he says softly, she refuses to meet his eye, "You had a problem, love?"
"Yes, I—witchpires."
"Beg pardon?"
"Witch-pires."
"I—see."
"No, you don't."
"No, not really, love."
She laughs and he smiles (and though she was waiting for it she's still conflicted about it).
"Stefan—and—and Damon's mother—" Klaus' eyebrows raise, "She's undead-er, um—See, she was dead, like, she died but then she didn't but she did," Caroline cringes, "She's a vampire," Klaus' eyes are still considerably puzzled but he nods, "But then she got trapped in a prison world," Klaus opens his mouth and Caroline sighs, "This might take a while."
Yesterday Morning...
"Hey."
"Hey, Care," Matt smiles, albeit slightly awkwardly.
"I'm—" sorry I almost killed you? I'm sorry my mom died. I'm sorry I was selfish. I'm sorry that there's always going to be a part of me that loved making one of my longest friends suffer.
"Stop. You don't need to apologize again. I told you, Caroline, I can't forget it but I don't blame you."
She smiles (it's fake) and stands awkwardly as he continues soaking up the spilled liquid. She watches the wet spot on the kitchen paper expand until it drowns the tissue. Matt tosses it into the bin and Caroline frowns at the dry table.
"I just—I don't know how to feel better," he meets her eyes, his eyebrows knitting together in concern, "I hurt you and all I can do is apologize, but I can't make it better. I can't make the guilt go away. I wish I never—no, I don't and I think that's the scariest part," her eyes water because the kitchen paper can't soak up her pain and take it away, "I liked it. I liked all of it."
"It's not your fault you're a vampire, Care. You didn't ask for it," she hums in response, deep in thought. Matt's too caring for his own good.
"I never did get my answer."
Matt looks up at her curiously, "What do you mean?"
"I asked everyone but the person I should've, now she's dead—why me?"
"Hey, you're Elena's friend," was, she corrects in her head. She doesn't like to think about it, none of them do. They all still talk about her in present tense. Except Bonnie, but Bonnie doesn't talk about her.
"So are you."
"Yeah, but it's Katherine," he shrugs, "She's a bitch," Caroline smiles and Matt smiles at having made her.
"I suppose we have bigger problems now," she sighs. She trusts no one, can't afford to anymore. Anyone who before now she hasn't seen at least three times is a possible Witchpire.
"Yeah. I swear it's freakier the freaks are getting in this town."
"Thanks," Caroline deadpans.
"I'm just saying, half-witch and half-vampire? Freaky."
"Yeah," she agrees quietly, "Well, if you have any bright ideas. Shoot."
Matt smirks, "You could always ask Klaus to come and rescue us," Caroline's eyes widen, "Hey, I'm the only one that hasn't gotten to tease you about that yet," Matt's smile slowly falls, "Oh, no. Why do you have that look?"
"Matt, I have to go!"
"Care—"
New Orleans...
"I thought you'd have more, like, artefacts."
His chuckle echoes around the room, "That's a different mansion."
"Of course it is," she lets her hand brush gently along the arm of the statue, before turning around and peering up at him curiously, "So?"
He raises his eyebrows, amused, "So?" he repeats.
She rolls her eyes, "Well, I didn't come here to watch you watching me."
"I know, love," he smiles and Caroline narrows her eyes suspiciously, "That's why I ordered dinner."
Caroline crosses her arms over her chest (and then kind of smiles—a lot).
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