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Chapter III: LET'S GO HOME
"Shush," Klaus whispers as he rests his forehead against Bonnie's one, "There is no need for another panic attack, and breathe, love" He presses his lips to hers, and Bonnie remains frozen" Your pathetic attempt to escape have consequences, love." Klaus pulls away from Bonnie and wipes the tears, which she fails to restrain.
Bonnie swats his hand, and she quietly nods. She does not dare to glance at Matt, and Bonnie does not want to worsen the situation. Resigned to her fate, she extends her hand for Klaus to take. When a victorious smile spreads on Klaus' lips, Bonnie prefers to avert her eyes. Her stomach twists, and she feels nauseous.
"Let's go home," Bonnie whispers, and she prays that Klaus will take her hand and overlook Matt.
Klaus' hand covers Bonnie's one, and he intertwines his fingers with hers. Bonnie feels the viscous fluid transfers from Klaus' hand to her palms, and she refuses to look at their joined hands. She does not want to have a visual representation of her guilt.
Klaus leans toward Bonnie, and he kisses her forehead. The tenderness of his action worsens Bonnie's emotional state, and the bile clogs her throat. She closes her eyes to protect her mind, and she leans into the cooling caress of Klaus' cold lips against her burning skin.
"You can exhale, love. You win this round," He quietly says with a tone, which hides his taunt, "I wouldn't cause to you unnecessary sorrow. Think of it as a kind deed, I will allow your little admirer to live another day," He pursues with quiet satisfaction.
Bonnie cannot feel relieved, and her empty stare falls on Klaus. She has no words, and she is too exhausted for the tears. Her lungs continue to burn, and the deep breaths fail to extinguish the flame of her fury. Bonnie walks away from the door of her old apartment, and she drags Klaus with her.
The ride back to the apartment is quiet, and the tension in the car suffocates Bonnie. She suspiciously stares at Klaus, and she can hold the virtual Damocles sword above her head. Bonnie crosses her arms and Klaus' shirt weights on her shoulder.
Klaus glances at Bonnie and her heart rate increases. The familiar streets, which leads to his apartment, stand as witnesses to her death march. Bonnie's fingers sink in the leather of Klaus' car, and she prepares herself for the worst. Klaus takes a turn, which Bonnie does not remember, and she does not know if she should feel relieved.
Klaus parks his car, and Bonnie waits for the explosion. The pressure must have reached its maximum. Klaus undoes his belt, and he turns to face Bonnie. Anxious and scared, Bonnie flinches when Klaus leans toward her.
"I'm sorry," He quietly says, and Bonnie did not expect an apology.
Klaus closes the distance between them, and his knuckles graze her cheek. Matt's blood has collected on his knuckles, and Bonnie stares at Klaus' reddened fingers. Her skin crawls, and she cannot contain her anger.
"Don't touch me," She shouts with a broken voice, and she slaps Klaus' hand.
Drawing comfort from his touch is unquestionably sinful, and the sound of Bonnie's heavy breaths fill the car. She slaps Klaus' hand when he again attempts to touch her.
"There is no need for such a visceral reaction when the blame for my actions lays at your feet," Klaus abandons his attempt at peace, and he reverts to his less agreeable sentiments.
"Let's go home," Bonnie implores, and she refuses to deal with another tantrum.
"You are afraid?" Klaus asks with slight concern, "of me." His indignation replaces his concern.
"Let's go home," Bonnie insists with growing desperation, and she preserves her anger.
"I'm not going to hurt you," Klaus says with a placating voice when she finally allows his hand on her body.
Klaus' palms cover Bonnie's shoulders, and the dry blood on his fingertips blemishes Bonnie's shirt. Bonnie stares at Klaus, and she has lost the desire to fight. His hands crawl to her neck, and his thumbs dance on her jaws. Bonnie refuses to admit it, but Klaus' caresses soothe her battered spirit.
"Let's go home," Bonnie maintains, and she hopes that her words will infuriate Klaus.
Now, she does not want to face a tender side of him. Bonnie looks at Klaus, and she knows that he will snap if she does not react as he wants. She requires a reminder of his sordid nature, and the dry blood of his long fingers is not a powerful reminder.
"Are you afraid of me or this is sorrow for your little lover?" Klaus asks, and Klaus' jealousy overtakes his reasoning.
Bonnie deeply inhales, and Klaus' fingers continue to offer the warm caress, which she needs. She closes her eyes, and she wishes the act could erase the last days.
"Let's go home, please," She repeats with exhaustion.
She oddly wishes for the safety of Klaus' room. Bonnie wants to gaze at the impeccable ceiling. She opens her eyes to face the car's roof.
"Bonnie?" Klaus' tone hardens, and now, she clings on his tender touch.
"What do you want to hear? What will make you happy?" She quietly asks, and his silence is not an answer, which Bonnie welcomes.
"Do you want to hear about how terrified I am? Do you want me to beg you not to be too rough when you beat me up for trying to escape? What do you want?" She shoves him away, and his touch is a comfort, which she does not approve anymore.
"I would never harm you in such barbaric ways," He says, and through his intense stare, Bonnie loses her chance to argue the sincerity of his claim.
"I would never lay a finger on you," He softly affirms, and his hands frame her dampened cheeks.
Klaus leans closer to Bonnie, and he traps her between the car's door and him. He mindlessly draws patterns on her inflamed skin, and his thumbs delicately graze the rims of her eyelids to wipe the tears, which have yet to fall. Klaus kisses the tip of her nose, and he rests his forehead against hers. His caresses are possessive and tender. His thumbs worship her skin with gentleness. Bonnie has craved such touch in the last four months, and Klaus infiltrates the crevices of a heart eager to cling to overwhelming love.
"I assure that I will never resort to violence against you." His words resonate like an unbreakable promise, which she would love to cherish.
The world has used its fair share of violence against Bonnie. Klaus' words compromise the roots of Bonnie's logic. She gazes at Klaus, and she does not want his words to hold such meaning. However, she is fighting a battle, which she lost when he decided to resort to care and words.
"I'm sorry for frightening you, but I wouldn't have to act this way if you didn't drive me insane." Klaus' lips brush hers, and he steals small kisses between her panting breaths.
"I drive you insane?" She says with the understanding of how cynical life can be," I drive you insane?" His lips swallow the sarcastic chuckles, which express Bonnie's disbelief.
Klaus' caresses carry more passion than his innocent kiss. Quickly, her bitter laugh becomes a breathy moan. His fingers disappear in the curls, which covers Bonnie's nape. Her hand reaches for his back, and uncertain if she wants to reject or welcome his touch, Bonnie clings on Klaus' shirt.
"You do," Klaus admits and he punctuates his statement with a hard kiss, "and it is visceral," He possessively holds her, "You're mine,"
" Should be your size, love," Klaus says as he takes shopping bag from Helda, and he passes the clothes to Bonnie, " You can't forever wear my shirts," He loosely quotes her.
"Thank you, Helda," Bonnie purposely says, and Helda quietly walks out.
"Someone has yet to forgive me," Klaus sarcastically says, and he holds Bonnie's back when she tries to leave the living room, "Keep me company, Bonnie." He orders more than he asks.
"I need a shower, and so do you," Bonnie replies with growing disgust as she stares at the dry blood.
"I will be waiting for you here after your bath, love," Klaus says with a certain amusement at Bonnie's obstinacy. "Do you fancy a meal?" He asks as Bonnie walks away from him.
She glances back at Klaus, and Bonnie decides against conversing with him. She rushes to the bathroom, and she belatedly takes a deep breath. Her mind spins, and she cannot focus. Each of Bonnie's conflicted feelings smothers her. She hears Klaus' steps as he moves around the room, and Bonnie's fights to scrap any thought, which paints Klaus under a favourable light. Bonnie sinks in her bath, and she hopes the hot water can wash away the day's horrors.
She attempts to make her bath last forever to infuriate and avoid Klaus. Although, she only manages to waste half an hour. When the water becomes too cold, Bonnie resigned herself to her fate. She comes out of the bathroom, and she slides into a baby doll. Although, she has picked the habit to sleep in Klaus' shirt, and she is a creature of habit. A night after a traumatic event, Bonnie clings on her comfort. She walks up to Klaus' closet, and she instinctively picks the shirt, which carries his scent. Bonnie wears it, and she reluctantly returns to the living room.
…
…
…
"Any preference?" Klaus asks as she walks in the room.
Bonnie confusedly stares at him, and she wonders what is happening. Klaus has shed his layer of clothes and changed into pyjamas pant and Henley. His hair is wet, and Bonnie assumes that he also showered.
"Preference?" She repeats to clear the confusion around her foggy brain cells.
"Are you vegan? Are you pescatarian? You know if you have any dietary preferences," Klaus patiently asks, and Bonnie remains confused.
"Why?" She asks, and she holds on the doorknob.
There is a necessity to return to safety, and Klaus' presence consumes her feelings of comfort. Bonnie cautiously eyes him, and her glare does not weight on him.
"I am making dinner, and it is a considerate thing to mind your diet," Klaus answers with naturalism, which unsettles Bonnie.
"I have no preference," She replies with a hint of scepticism.
Bonnie watches Klaus walks toward the Kitchen Island, and she follows his movement from the corner of her eyes. Klaus picks something from the fridge, and he sets it on the counter. Bonnie remains frozen and she wants to understand what is happening around her.
'Great, could you help, love" Klaus says as he places the vegetable in Bonnie's arms.
She joins him at the sink, and she stands by his left. He washes the meat, and Bonnie lets the water flaws. Klaus glances at Bonnie with an eyebrow questioningly raised, and Bonnie starts to clean the vegetable. His tall presence is strangely intimidating, but she manages to find a twisted comfort in his sudden domestic behaviour.
"What am I supposed to do?" She hesitantly asks.
"A salad," Klaus answers with a smile, and Bonnie intensely stares at his smile, "Love?" He questions when he notices the intensity of her look.
"Your smile," Bonnie says, and her discovery alarms her, "You have deep smile lines, and it is almost makes you…" She does not have the adequate words to express a ramping emotion.
She rises on her toes, and with her wet hand pressed on his jaw, she draws the line of his smile. Those lines are so deep that they unequivocally hide happy tales. Klaus kisses the palm of Bonnie's hand, and she quickly removes her hand. The casualty of the moment frightens Bonnie, but she needs a moment like this odd attempt to make dinner.
"Do you have a preference for the dressing?" Bonnie reaches out to maintain a moment of normalcy.
"Balsamic vinegar and olive oil," Klaus answers, and he walks toward the stove.
"Okay," she replies, "Where is the balsamic vinegar and the olive oil?" Bonnie asks when it becomes obvious that the only room, which she is familiar with is Klaus' room.
"I do not know," Klaus answers, and Bonnie blinks to express her surprise, "I have not used the kitchen until tonight, but you seem to need a second of normalcy." He continues to speak, and Bonnie stares at him.
They spend twenty minutes looking for the balsamic vinegar, which is by the olive oil. Klaus victoriously shouts, and Bonnie needs a shattering event to erase from her mind the soft smile, which he directs at her. For an hour, Bonnie and Klaus make dinner together. She subtly wipes tears while the reality claims its rights. Sharing a home with Klaus Mikealson means odd moments when they make dinner.
"Here," Klaus extends a glass of white wine to Bonnie, and she stares at his hand.
"I don't like white wine," She attempts to refuse the glass.
"I know, love." Klaus places the glass in her hand, and he kisses Bonnie's cheek.
He sets the plates on the table, and Bonnie stares at him. He relaxed demeanour and the warmth, which engulfs her body while their shared moment of domesticity almost convinces her that her attraction for Klaus goes beyond an unwanted carnal need. Bonnie shakes the thought, and she takes the seat, which he offers her.
"You drive me insane too," Bonnie replies as she drains the wine glass.
Klaus stands behind her, and his long fingers spread on the chair's backrest. The tips of Klaus' finger rub her shoulder and creep on her neck. He tilts Bonnie's head so she can look at him as if her words need an optical pillar.
Those deep smiles line reappear. There is cynicism more than there is joy, and Bonnie still feels the need to run her finger along them to know how deep they run. Klaus predatorily hovers above Bonnie, and his touch is scornful and possessive.
"Equal footing is the foundation of a solid relationship," His words carry sarcasm, and he tenderly kisses her forehead.
Bonnie has lost her appetite, and the white wine's taste no longer matters. She only has to stomach Klaus Mikealson.
"The client list, Malakai," Klaus demands with exasperation.
His polished manners conflict with the shoddy nature of Kai's brothel. Klaus remains slightly bothered, and he glances at his watch out of a new habit, which fires his displeasure with the entire affair. He does not fancy the feeling, which makes him so keen to return home. The thoughts are blasphemy against all his core beliefs, and Klaus has started to associate his apartment with the comfort of a home. Klaus Mikaelson is not a domesticated creature.
Despite his disinclination with the situation, the fact that he will not be able to make it on time for dinner bothers Klaus.
The neon red walls assault his sight with the cheap light's reflection bouncing on them. Klaus rubs his temple to compose his thoughts. The dryness of the insipid bourbon infiltrates his tongue. Klaus puts down the tumbler, and he stares at Kai. Klaus has a newfound hostility toward Kai, and the words, which leave Kai's lips, provoke Klaus' anger.
"Bonnie does not belong on the sidewalk," Kai says as he searches through a pile of carnets, which belong to his different girls," She is too sexy for a quick fuck in the backseat of a car," He laughs as he presumes that Klaus shares his amusement.
Klaus cocks an eyebrow, and his smirk is a brittle mask. He drains the remaining liquor in his tumbler. The little control, which he possesses, starts to slip.
"Almost feels like an empty deal," Kai continues to speak to Klaus, who has yet to utter a word, "You get perky tits. I always wanted her but business first. It feels like an empty deal for me."
"Does it?" Klaus humours Kai out of curiosity.
Again, he swallows the cheap bourbon after a refill, and his eyes scrutinise Kai's extravagant office. Klaus subtly challenges the pimp. He comfortably sinks in the chair. Klaus did not lie when he confessed the influence, which Bonnie has on his mind. It is conflictual senselessness, which keeps him in an agitated state. Klaus sees adversaries in every man, who is part of her past.
"Yeah…" Kai sighs, "Some of my girls can now work in your casino, but you also took my best girl," He points out as he places the client list in front of Klaus.
"Your best girl is difficult, and if I remember, she does not fuck." Klaus absently says as he reads Bonnie's client list, "You're not losing your best girl, but you're losing the girl, who you want to fuck." Klaus finishes.
Kai replies with a smirk, which Klaus is impatient to wipe from his face.
"I assume that you are infatuated, and I don't blame you." Klaus cannot shame Kai for a transgression, which tempts him.
"Already the big words. Infatuation?" Kai stands to refill his tumbler with bourbon, and he looks at an annoyed Klaus.
"Whatever makes you call Bonnie every day," He drags Bonnie's phone out of his pocket.
"You're going to overlook your infatuation." Klaus pushes the client list in his pocket.
Klaus deliberately peruses Bonnie's list of last calls, and he miraculously remains calm. The several calls have stimulated his state of agitation. He has spent nights questioning the depth of Kai and Bonnie's relationship, and Klaus does not relish his conclusions.
Klaus drains the bourbon, and his fingers start to drum impatiently on Kai's desk. The atmosphere in the room starts to change, and the silent implications are loud.
"What was the purpose of last night call?" Klaus unconcernedly questions while his composure continues to evaporate.
"My call last night?" Kai finds it amusing, and he believes that Klaus acts as an offended pimp.
"I could ask about the several other calls, but I assumed that the purpose was similar." Klaus does not share Kai's amusement, "Bonnie does not belong on the sidewalk, and by extension, your bed is not an outstanding substitute to the sidewalk." He pulls the bottle of bourbon, and he refills his tumbler.
"It is nothing but business. You could set a price for her, and I would pay." Kai attempts to pacify Klaus.
Klaus grins with disturbing joviality. He sits with a straighter back, and his tallness becomes menacing. He pulls a cigarette, and the first taste of smoke purges the bitterness, which coats his tongue.
"A price," He whispers between blows of smoke, "A price for my Bonnie," Klaus tastes Bonnie's name on the tip of his tongue.
"I have thought of a good one," Klaus calmly announces, and he draws his gun.
When Klaus aims for the wall behind him, Kai has no time to react accordingly. As he processes what happened, Kai belatedly bends to avoid the shot. Kai can feel the heat around him, and the earsplitting blast, which drowns the sounds of his racing heartbeat, keeps him disoriented.
"You think of her, and I will kill you," Klaus reaches for Kai's face, and he shakes him out of his stupor, "You call her, and I will kill you," He continues, "You come close to her, and I will do worse than killing you." Klaus encouragingly taps Kai's cheek.
"How is that for a range of price, Malakai?" Klaus releases Kai, and he dusts his black shirt as a disgusted glance fall on the room.
"Fuck you, Mikaelson," Kai shouts as Klaus walks out of his office, and the pimp's ego roars.
"Drowning the salad in vinegar is not a practical way to plan a murder," Klaus draws Bonnie out of her mind, and she glances at him with disorientation.
Her thoughts might have conjured him. After all, isn't he a sweet nightmare? Bonnie nearly lost the hope to see Klaus back tonight, and she made the salad out of habit. Klaus' arm closes around Bonnie's waist. She draws a nervous breath. Bonnie has a twisted relationship with Klaus' nearness. She does not fancy it, but she adores the sense of sanctuary, which it procures.
"I will keep it in mind," Bonnie replies with an empty smile, and Klaus kisses her shoulder.
Bonnie flinches for a second, and she subtly tries to escape his hold. Sometimes, she fears Klaus' touch. His absolute brutality does not terrify Bonnie as much as the tender nature of his caress does.
The feather kisses, which he lies on her shoulders and neck like an adorning sparkling chain, shackle her to him. The unexpected smiles, which Klaus offers when he catches Bonnie staring too long, cut deeper in her flesh than his most cruel words, and yet his tongue drowns in venom. However, the angry words cause an ache, which she can endure. The honeyed words, which Klaus whispered in the hollow of Bonnie's ear when he belatedly joins her in their bed, are torture, which she failed to bear.
"Ah no, Love." The loose grip on her waist becomes possessive, and he drags her back to him.
"Klaus," her voice is as hesitant as her mind, "Dinner," Bonnie finds an excuse, and she has a thousand excuses to exempt her mind from accountability.
The night dinner is a semblance of routine. She does a salad, and Klaus cooks. The little moments when Klaus allows Bonnie to live in a reassuring delusion. He asks her about her days, which are the same, and she does not bother to extend the courtesy. The conversation is a graveyard of aborted endeavour to forge a connection.
"Our performative routine, will you ever dare to satiate your cravings?" He says with a hint of amusement.
Bonnie rarely eats during those dinners, but she has taken the habit to feast on Klaus' features. She has long conceded the defeat. She has allowed Klaus to become the centre of the small bubble, which she has created to remain sane.
There are the slow hours when she waits for his return, and there are peaceful moments when they stand by the sink to rinse the vegetable.
"How was your day?" Bonnie asks out of a necessity to cling on threads to weave a connection.
Klaus fills her wine glass, and he always does it as an answer to her questions. Perhaps, he offers her the rapture of alcohol to relieve her yearning of him. He hates the routine, which exists between them, but he voluntarily submits his mind to the torture of normalcy.
"You still have not acquired a taste for it," Klaus tells Bonnie, and she stares at the glass, which he passes to her.
"I need a shower," She returns the glass of wine, and she needs a refuge.
A smile sits on Klaus' lips, and the arm around Bonnie's stiffens. Klaus lifts her, and he places her on the kitchen island. His thumbs frame her face while his fingertips disappear in her curls.
"How was your day?" Klaus drawls.
He tilts Bonnie's head, and so she can look at him. Even on the kitchen island, Klaus remains a head taller than Bonnie is. She sighs from content and exasperation. Constant contradictions describe her life with Klaus for the last three weeks.
"The same as yesterday; and the same as the day before yesterday," Bonnie responds with growing frustration, which Klaus' finger massaging her nape cannot subdue. "Why do you ask the same question?" She removes his hands from her face, but her fingers twined around his fingers.
"I await a different answer to the question," Klaus answers," maybe to hear the truth and not the lies, which you need to tell yourself." He pries his fingers away from hers, and Bonnie feels the ghost of his warmth.
"I missed you," Bonnie says, and she ultimately drinks that dry white wine, which washes away the foul taste, which follows any interaction with Klaus, "Does my confession end this?" Bonnie points at the room.
" This," Klaus' forefinger oscillates between Bonnie and him," as you so eloquently called it, is your world. I would not be as cruel as to take it away from you." He hovers above her, and Bonnie focuses on his lose curls as they brush his lashes, "I'm your world, my Bonnie." There is a cruel intent behind his words, and the remaining emotions of his encounter with Kai envenom his tongue.
Bonnie cannot see anything else, and Klaus' perfume saturates the air, which she inhales. His hands sit heavy on her shoulders. How did Atlas survive such weight? Bonnie fades under Klaus' weight. She takes a deep breath, which almost feels shallow and remains painful.
"I am all that you have," A tender kiss in the crook of her neck soothes the virulence of his tongue, and his words assuredly voice the thoughts, which haunt Bonnie.
Bonnie strives to push Klaus away, and she shoves him with all of her strength. Klaus barely moves, and he remains too close for Bonnie's comfort.
"I am all that you want," The words sharply cut until she bleeds the truth, which she refuses to acknowledge, "and assuredly, I am everything that you need," His long fingers form a cage around the silky skin of her face and leave his imprint, "And these are the sincere responses to my question," Klaus tilts Bonnie's head.
He dares her to contradict him with the intensity in his eyes. Klaus' lips are close enough for a kiss, which he refuses himself. Bonnie's hand pressed on his chest, and she remains conflicted. Although, sentimentalism effortlessly annihilates what remains of reason in Bonnie's mind. Her fingers close on the fabric of his shirt. She clings on it with a bruising grip, and the black taint of the fabric almost bleeds into her palm. Her knuckles are white. Bonnie drags Klaus down until his tall frame folds in half. She kisses him, and she offers him the passion, which he has managed to refuse himself.
"I need a shower," She announces when his lips leave her, and his taste no longer dilutes the bitter taste of shame.
Perhaps, searing water can wash away her frustration. If she flays her skin with extensive scrubbing, the truth will not cling to her. Bonnie wipes the tears, and she draws a deep breath. She glances at Klaus, and whatever she feels for him feeds on something visceral. Klaus helps her down the kitchen island, and he kisses her cheek.
When he picks a glass of bourbon from the mini bar and sits on a beige couch, Bonnie ignores Klaus. A ringtone, which she recognises as hers, disrupts the heavy silence in the room. Klaus pulls Bonnie's phone out of his pocket, and he looks at her. Klaus rejects the call, and the accusation in his look confuses Bonnie.
"Come here, love," He orders with a glacial tone while anger transforms the fluctuation of his voice.
Bonnie hastens to join him, and she instinctively acts with caution. Her steps are hesitant, and Klaus sighs in frustration. He taps on his lap to indicate where she should sit.
Bonnie quizzically looks at him, and Klaus' change of demeanour perturbs her. Klaus snaps at her defiance.
"If you are not willing to do it on your own, I will drag you down on this lap, and so sit love," He says with clear signs of exasperation.
Bonnie sits on Klaus' lap, and He hands her the phone. She stares at the name on the screen. Bonnie draws a deep breath. Klaus puts his glass on a cupboard. His free hand lazily draws the curvature of her spine. There is a heavy silence, which Bonnie's labour breaths randomly interrupt.
"Mattie?" He enunciates the name, "Mattie...as in Matt Donovan?" Klaus asks as he takes the phone from Bonnie's tight grip.
Klaus is the jealous type, and since he laid his eyes on Bonnie, there should not be doubt on the matter of whom she belongs to body and soul. In addition, she cost him a fortune and some wrong business moves. She cost his sanity, and he had to watch Elijah positions Bonnie as leverage.
"Silence does not answer questions, sweetheart." Klaus taunts Bonnie, and he senses the anger, which simmers under her quiet composure.
Klaus rests his chin on her back, and for a second time, Bonnie's phone rings. Bonnie's mind attempts to escape in the normalcy of their dinner.
"Such a dedicated friend," Klaus chuckles, and he does not need a confession to understand that she bravely lied to him.
His hands cover her shoulders, and Klaus rests his forehead against Bonnie's nape. She shivers in his arms, and her phone continues to ring. Klaus needs to assert the power, which he has on her. He aspires to tame her body and master her mind.
"A friend, love?" He laughs does not disguise his anger, "Nothing more than a dedicated friend with an unreciprocated crush," He grabs Bonnie's chin, and his fingers dig in her skin, "Matt Donovan...Mattie," Klaus drawls.
Klaus is boiling, and his jealousy crawls to the surface to taint every touch and words. His mind supplies the graphics image. Who slept with his Bonnie? Who had her soft body before he did?
"Matt Donovan?" He shouts after a shattered laugh, and Bonnie understands that her silence will not pacify him.
"He is my ex," She replies worried about the reaction, which Klaus might have.
His hand abruptly stops moving, and a finger presses on her spine. She winces a bit from the pain, and He forces her to look at him. When he throws her phone against the wall, Bonnie tenses. She continues to stare at Klaus lost in a frightening trance.
"Pretty little liar," Klaus says with an amused tone, and the smirk on his lips petrifies Bonnie.
She does not react to the kiss, which he presses on her lips. His fingers continue to cage her face.
"Klaus," Bonnie pleads for a cease-fire as she breathes his name.
"Why don't you want to understand it," He asks with a stern voice, and he tenderly kisses her shoulder.
Klaus wants to ease his path to her truth. Once he is done with Bonnie, she should breathe by him. He will embed his perfume on her skin until his scent cannot be separated from her flesh.
For a few seconds, his tenderness almost occults his anger. He manipulatively pries the words from her lips.
"Matt is my best friend, and he is all I have left from before this." Bonnie cannot hold her words.
With a statement, she negates everything, which Klaus attempts to impose on her. When the words leave her mouth, she knows the mistake, which she made. However, Klaus remains calm. His hand is still moving on her back, and again he kisses her shoulders.
"He was your best friend, love," Klaus whispers in the hollow of Bonnie ears as if they were sweet nothings to match his tender caresses, " I am your home and your world now." He challenges her to argue as he possessively holds her in an imprisoning embrace