A/N: So this chapter is short but (I think) sweet. Thank you for all your beautiful reviews last chapter, I've never had a story break 200 reviews before so I'm both humbled and happy. I've also made a little soundtrack for this story; you can find it on Spotify under my username anastasxa_g, or on Tumblr in my #klonnie tag. If you have trouble getting the link, PM me and I'll be happy to share.
Also, I know many of you are reading "count the stars and you will know" by thefudge is grumpy but if you aren't, get yourself to that story immediately! Shoutout to her for inspiring me to finish this chapter. And finally, one of my fave Klonnie writers of all time, irishcookie (who goes by thebennettdiaries on Tumblr) came back from hiatus a few weeks ago and is writing a klonnie zombie apocalypse AU titled "in the end" which is published on her blog. I can't praise this AU enough, so get yourself some of that goodness and be sure to leave her some love.
A plush robe with billowing sleeves that make her feel like she's cosplaying Gandalf the Grey is the only garment Bonnie can find.
She opens the bathroom door and finds Monique seated on the floor, elbows wrapped around her knees, silent and alert. Bonnie has the startling impression of a wolf standing guard.
"Hey...,"
The girl mouths a barely discernible, "Hi," in response.
She leans awkwardly against the doorframe. "Umm... when did you guys get to Mystic Falls?"
"In the afternoon," Monique replies, staring straight ahead at the antique furnishings. "We ate lunch, then were on our way to look at the Falls when we saw your car."
The girl's stiff posture makes Bonnie cringe. Her tears threaten to start all over again. "I'm sorry that you didn't get to go."
Monique shrugs.
"The falls are really pretty this time of year. If you want...we can go tomorrow."
Another shrug. She shifts slightly and Bonnie catches a glimpse of her face, of the eyes and nose reddened by crying.
"Oh, sweetie I'm-,"
Klaus appears in the doorway. He glances between the two of them before addressing Monique in a more gentle tone of voice than Bonnie's ever heard him use.
"There's food downstairs, pet."
The girl rises to her feet without a word and makes to leave the room. Klaus stops her with a hand on her shoulder. They exchange a glance, and the hybrid murmurs a few more words to her. Monique nods reluctantly, bumps his hand with her head, and hurries off. The small, wolfish gesture tugs at Bonnie's heart.
She shuffles her feet, words sticking in her throat. She wants to return to that morning before she left Montana, when he'd cradled her cheek and urged her to go, when she'd leaned into his touch and promised to return. Or the night of the eclipse, his voice saying Stay, his nose in her hair. Or even just an hour ago in the cold bathtub, and the rough, soothing warmth of his hands.
The language of water and flesh is so much easier, so much less afraid.
"I'm sorry," she says again, quickly wiping a tear on her sleeve. "I'm so stupid, I should've known she wasn't going to want anything to do with me."
He cocks his head, regarding her like she's grown horns. "You're sorry?"
She sniffs, playing with the ties on her robe. Correction, his robe. There's an ornate NM embroidered on the right side.
"If -if I can dry my dress, I'll get out of your way. You guys should enjoy the rest of your evening, maybe go to the falls tomorrow."
She feels jagged and brittle, like a puzzle piece that's broken out of shape, no longer able to complete a picture. Her own mother is better off without her. Maybe Klaus and Monique are better off without her too.
Not wanting to cry in front of him anymore, Bonnie turns to walk back into the bathroom and retrieve her dress.
Klaus moves like a cat, slow and quiet, to stand behind her, one hand leaning on the doorframe by her head. "Leave it. I'll have someone launder your things."
Her soaked dress and undergarments are draped over the lip of the bathtub. They look like husks that insects leave behind. She glances out the window at the soft rain. She wants to fall like that, calm and unapologetic, into something that waits to receive her.
"Monique is upset," she says in a small voice. "I probably scared her."
He's close enough to touch her, for her to feel the warmth of his body. But neither of them move.
"Into each life a little rain must fall, as the saying goes, and I suspect hers has seen a deluge. You are her glimpse of the sun. It is the thought of losing you that terrifies her."
The texture of his voice is not smooth, makes no attempt at suavity. It's like wet gravel on her fingers, something born of the friction between hard and soft. The words register slowly. That Monique might be feeling even an ounce of such fear, even a thumbnail of what she felt when Abby drove away in that cab, brings her close to tears again.
"I should go talk to her-"
She almost collides with his chest.
"Do you recall the state I was in after the eclipse?" he drawls.
"Yes...," she says faintly, cheeks burning.
"And...would you have then deemed me capable of the kind of conversation you are trying to undertake?"
Bonnie heaves a reluctant sigh.
"No."
"Get some rest, little witch. For once." He adds, turning to leave, "I will have some food sent up for you-"
"Klaus, wait," she tugs on the sleeve of his grey Henley. "You'll tell her I'm fine? So she won't worry?"
He makes a face. "She can see for herself in the morning. In the meantime, I will keep her company as she consumes all the terrible pizza she desires. Maybe I shall even deign to join her at a videogame."
Bonnie has to smile a little. "Now that I'd like to see."
"I confess none of those 'games' seem really appealing save one. I believe it's called Mortal Combat."
Her smile grows wider.
Her hand is still lingering on his shirt. He plucks her wrist like a flower, raising it to his face. "Are you cold?" he inquires, noting the fine tremors still lingering from her ice bath. She'd been relishing those little shivers, the way they shocked her into feeling each layer of her body, skin and flesh and blood and bone. But the callused roughness of his palm brings a different awareness, one that makes her want to latch onto him in a flare of sudden longing.
"A little," she admits, "But it's not bad-"
His nose touches her palm, travels down to her wrist, taking small breaths along the way. Her words fade into silence.
"You smell like me," he murmurs at length.
She gives a shaky kind of laugh. "It's probably the robe."
He grunts, his mouth running over her fingers and opening over her knuckles, blunt teeth teasing each joint. "The last full moon, when I found you asleep on the sofa, you smelled like me then too. I wanted to bury my face in you."
Her throat goes dry, breath hitching a little as he continues to smell her.
"I want to kill her you know," he says suddenly, softly, anger vibrating in his voice. "Bring you her heart, so you can crush it beneath your foot."
It's like an enormous weight being suddenly lifted. He's furious on her behalf. Furious enough to kill. Someone is angry for her. Bonnie almost sways on her feet. He steadies her with his other hand.
"I...don't want her dead, Klaus."
He raises his mouth from her skin. "Then she needs reminding that her life is in your debt."
"Klaus-,"
"I will not listen to you defend her actions-,"
"I'm not I just-,"
"- or blame yourself for her cowardice."
He bites off that last word savagely enough to make her flinch. The wolf flashes in his eyes, ever close to the surface. He's still cradling her wrist.
"I don't want to talk about her," Bonnie says. "It makes me feel sick."
He's quiet for a long time. Then, his grip on her hand loosens.
"As you wish."
She senses him pulling away, back into himself. That offering to kill Abby - absurd and terrifying as that is - is the only comfort he knows how to give. The only kind he thinks himself capable of giving.
With a sinking panic she realizes he's going to leave, walk downstairs, stop holding her hand.
Words she learned long ago never to say out loud - there was no point, people left, and neither word nor deed could make them return, make them want to hold you in all the ways you ached for them to hold you - crowd her throat.
Stay. Stay with me.
Klaus runs a thumb over her wrist-bone, eyebrow raised in a silent question.
She shakes her head, letting her hand drift to the front of his shirt and twist in one of his necklaces in a blind effort to keep him there. She drinks in the tiny details of his nearness. The stubble along his jaw, the small mole on the side of his neck.
Bonnie closes her eyes, recalling his simple, feral movements from the night of the eclipse. She touches the tip of his nose where his mole is. He freezes. She drags in a long breath.
Her eyelashes flutter along his throat. She breathes, and breathes again. A shudder travels through him and his arm bands around her waist.
His voice, low and hoarse, warms her ear."What's this, love?"
"I- I don't know," she whispers, clinging to his shirt.
Slowly, his head dips down, nose burying in the crook of her neck. She feels him nuzzle the soft curve there, inhaling a deep lungful of her scent. A fever steals over her body quite different than the one from before when his stubble grazes the sensitive skin, mouth soothing the friction with soft, lingering kisses. Bonnie leans into him and arches her neck. She tries to stay as still and quiet as possible. To not give voice to the burgeoning need for his presence. If he could glimpse the yawning hunger inside her, he would surely flee, surely -
She gasps at the feel of his tongue dancing over her pulse. His hands press her closer, mindful of her belly, while he claims her neck with his mouth.
Oh, this is so much less complicated than all the knotted words she'd held in her throat, so much simpler than trying to explain anything - to herself or to anyone else.
I missed you so much.
Klaus nips the soft flesh under her jaw.
I know.
Her hands land on his chest. Their mouths touch before she even realizes what they're doing. Light kisses that slowly deepen. It feels like she's been kissing him for a long time, like this is just a glimpse of what's come before, and what will come after.
There's a dazed quality to their kissing, something instinctive.
Bonnie rises on her tiptoes, following his mouth. Her arms go around his neck, like before. He holds her needily. A flock of thoughts crowds her mind. She is kissing Klaus. She likes kissing Klaus. Likes the way he smells. Likes smelling of him. Given what they've been to each other in the past, she likes a lot of things she probably shouldn't.
He gives a low, soft growl and his hands envelop the planes of her back. Those bird-like thoughts disappear, but they leave their wings. She is soaring with her toes on the ground, chasing a feeling both new and comforting. Something she can't ever remember knowing. Something she's been aching for. Something safe and vital and warm. A kind of animal comfort.
Home, she thinks dizzily.
He tastes like home.
A/N: Do let me know your thoughts! xoxox
