In the weeks that follow the eclipse Bonnie sees very little of Klaus. He's usually gone when she and Monique head down for breakfast, and he doesn't return until well past moonrise. While they eat dinner, he retreats into his studio and remains there until they go to bed.
Their communication happens through their daily routines. Some mornings Bonnie finds a pot of porridge on the stove (he's getting marginally better at cooking the stuff, although he has too much of a loose hand with the sugar) or a bowl of fresh-picked blackberries. Other mornings, she'd discover his drink glass drying on the dish-rack, an empty bottle of bourbon on the counter and his boots still by the door (those mornings he also slept late, padding downstairs around lunchtime with messy, wet hair and what Monique had dubbed "grumpy wolf face")
She discovers that Klaus Mikaelson, bloodthirsty hybrid, is also a "clean freak". While he employs a small crew to clean the place top to bottom weekly, she occasionally spots him re-washing the windows or wiping the tables, sweeping the hardwood floors of dust visible only to supernatural eyes.
("He's like Monica from Friends," Monique quips. "Except he can't cook.")
Bonnie guesses his obsession with spotless hygiene has a deeply personal root, but it isn't a subject she likes dwelling on. (It's awkward enough being reminded of what she'd seen that night, the brutality he'd endured, every time their eyes meet across the room) She'd always prided herself on the belief that people chose who they became, but choice no longer seems easy or clear-cut.
Even more disconcerting is the comfort she starts to find in their household routine. The strange mushy porridge becomes a familiar part of her morning. And at night, she finds herself lulled to sleep by the sound of his boots on the stairs, knowing he's returned home.
Sometimes he leaves her notes, stuck to the kettle or the fridge door or some other spot she's sure to frequent. The notes themselves are typical of Klaus: forthright and sardonic.
(Monique rolls her eyes. "Why doesn't he just text you?"
Bonnie bites back a smile, because she's grown to enjoy the little missives, the way his dramatically looping cursive dwarfs the paper, how his voice leaps off the page.)
The plumber should come around at noon. If he tracks mud on the carpet, hex him. - K
Please contain your alarm if you see me with an axe this morning. I will be chopping firewood. - K
Must you fill the refrigerator with pickles? -K
Found your history homework on the dining table. Took the liberty of correcting several ridiculous inaccuracies using your pen. (Is the glitter necessary?) - K
In the weeks that follow the eclipse she sees very little of Klaus, but she senses that the night has changed them both in some nameless, indelible way. (And though she senses too that someday, perhaps sooner than either of them would like, they would have to confront that change and give account of their actions, for now it's simpler to let those invisible currents take hold, turning them this way and that, like a dance you make up with each new strain of music)
The plumber was very nice and took his shoes off. No hexing required. - B
I didn't think an axe could make you look scarier. I was wrong. Thanks for the heads up! - B
I know it's a lot, but they were on sale! And they're organic! - B
Thanks for the help, but I can't use "1000-year-old-immortal being" as an academic source. Your notes were cool though. Did you know the Marquis de Sade personally? Don't answer that... - B
The weeks slip by, the moon waxes and the days get warmer. She does her homework outside in the fresh mountain air and, tentatively, buys herself some maternity clothes. They make her feel soft and flowy like the breezes that follow spring rain.
(Only, occasionally, she feels a twinge of guilt when she thinks of her father and the rest of her friends back in Mystic Falls. But the source of that guilt and whether it springs from a desire to know how they're faring, or from the ease with which she finds herself adapting to life in Montana, proves difficult to pinpoint)
Her waist continues thickening, her breasts feel lush and tender to the touch, and the smooth, warm mound of her belly grows more prominent. Sometimes she looks at herself in the mirror and marvels at the new lines and curves emerging on her body, like a map rewriting itself.
( One afternoon she runs into Klaus in the kitchen while wearing one of her favorite new purchases: a yellow babydoll top made of soft, breezy cotton. His eyes do a funny, focused blinking before quickly looking away. She feels the back of her neck grow warm.
"I think he was looking at your boobs," Monique giggles when they're alone.
"Hush. You're too young to be talking about boob- they're called 'breasts'."
"Okay. He was looking at your 'breasts'."
"Hush." )
The changes in her body bring a new, heightened awareness at the sensory level. Certain foods taste sharper and more satisfying than others. She's drawn to particular scents, while others repel her. She can smell flavors in food before she eats them. The feel of dewy grass between her toes keeps her mesmerized for hours.
Her body also begins to announce its needs in ways that are impossible to ignore. Hunger pangs compel her to drop everything to fix a snack. Bouts of sleepiness steal her away for hours at a time in the afternoons.
(Of course other urges prove more difficult to assuage. Like the time she sees Klaus chopping firewood on her way back from an evening walk. He's shirtless and wielding an axe as though he was born a woodcutter's son. Her eyes alight like birds on the bough of his arms, skipping down the line of shoulder and chest, lingering on the sweat-beaded nape of his neck. A rivulet of moisture glistens between his shoulderblades and before she can command her thoughts they seize on the idea of touching her tongue there, just the tip, to taste salt and skin.
Klaus turns around, pushing some hair off his brow.
"Something you need, witch?''
She makes an inane remark about the weather and hurries inside.)
Bonnie lies awake that night, the window open and a cool breeze wafting over her heated skin, and hears him climbing up the stairs. His boots sound heavy and purposeful, each step echoing in the dark. He pauses on the landing and she holds her breath, a wild thought settling on her chest that he will turn, walk to her room, push open the door and -
(her mouth goes dry and there's a liquid rush of heat in her lower belly)
- his footsteps gradually move in the opposite direction, towards his own room.
It's a long while before sleep comes for her.
The second full moon after the eclipse sees Klaus and Monique leaving for the woods together.
Bonnie watches them go with both apprehension and excitement. Last time, Monique had preferred to remain in the basement behind a magically barred door, a fact which pained Bonnie as the night wore on and the young wolf began scratching and howling inside the small room.
But at least the girl had been under the same roof as her, whereas tonight she was out under the moon's full power, with no companion besides Klaus. She didn't really think the hybrid would have asked Monique to accompany him if he didn't intend on keeping her close, but still, worry makes her stay awake long past her usual bedtime.
Bonnie sets up camp in the living room with a blanket, some books and a dish of pickles with mustard drizzled over them. When, hours past midnight, her eyelids start to droop at last, she lays down on the couch and covers herself with the blanket she'd been using. It's warm and smells like something familiar, something earthy and she nuzzles her face into it a few times unconsciously.
Only as sleep descends on her does she realize she's covered herself in Klaus' scent.
"Is it normal to consume this many pickles?"
His soft utterance eases her awake. Klaus is seated on the other end of the couch, examining the dish that's empty save for some traces of mustard.
Bonnie sits up immediately, rubbing her face, "Where's-,"
"Upstairs, fast asleep. Although not as fast as you were." He looks her over in amusement. "It's almost dawn, we returned an hour ago."
"Oh." She notices he's barefoot and freshly showered, comfortably clad in jeans and a loose grey Henley. There's a sleepy kind of looseness to his posture that's new to her. "So how...how was it?"
He leans back against the couch, "I've never shifted with a companion before. It was novel, to say the least. She's a good little hunter. That stag didn't stand a chance."
"You guys killed a deer?"
"And some possum and quite a few rabbits," he murmurs, eyes drifting close. "The latter were delicious..."
She smiles grimly. "Poor rabbits."
"They're perfect little monsters if you're trying to raise vegetables."
His head droops a little, his features relaxing. This is the first time they've sat together like this, for a protracted amount of time, since the night of the eclipse. He's not caught in a fugue state, but there's an open, languid quality to him that's disconcerting in a different way. He seems quite content to doze off beside her, and she has the sudden urge to brush the damp curls from his heavy brow and kiss the skin there.
He cracks one eye open, sensing her gaze. "Do I have dirt in my hair or something?"
"What... no you don't. I - I was just thinking it's nice you guys had a good shift." She swings her legs off the couch and scoots away some.
Her arms rise into a stretch, and this time it's she who feels his eyes - both of them - tracing the curve of her spine.
"Yes...quite nice," he echoes.
"You won't even need your amulets anymore," she says, trying to dissipate the sudden thickness in the air between them.
Klaus doesn't reply, hooded eyes drifting over her. There's an unabashed quality to his wolf nature, far different from the cool, teasing manner he usually affects, still clinging to him.
"Do I have pickle juice on my shirt or something?" she teases.
He cocks his head, a contemplative look on his face. "No."
She feels like a moth flown into an invisible web. Lounging and relaxed though he seems, she feels caught by his presence. And she smells of him, surely he can tell -
The sudden, rippling sensation in her stomach makes her gasp.
Bonnie goes still, unsure whether to believe it. This is nothing like the little starts and flicks she'd thought were her imagination before-
-it happens again, an unmistakeable, wing-like fluttering.
Seeing her tense, Klaus sits up slowly, grumbling. "Witch, if you go into into labor on my sofa-,"
"Shh!" Without thinking she grabs his hand and places it over the swell of her belly. "I just felt- he's moving...a lot."
Lips parting in surprise he draws his thumb above her navel, and the baby replies with another airy dance of movements.
"Do you feel that?" she marvels, " it's like-,"
"Butterflies," he finishes, softly.
His warm hand lingers on her, drawing another fluttery wiggle. Their eyes lock in wonder and shock. She wants to ask what he knows of butterflies, did he chase them when he was a boy, did he ever catch one in his hand, love a terribly fragile thing? She wants to say, describe it to me, does it feel the same outside my body, like an eyelash sweeping your palm?
His eyes return to her belly, thumb still stroking her through her sleepshirt. There's another delighted flurry of movement, she wonders if her baby is ticklish. She feels giddy.
"He's about the size of a mango now," Bonnie supplies.
The corner of his mouth lifts a little. "Is he?"
It takes a while before she notices the light blinking in her peripheral vision. Her phone is flashing with a series of texts from Caroline. Klaus reaches for the device and hands it to her before leaning back again. His fingers graze the small of her back as she scrolls her messages.
Her heart drops to her feet.
"Hey, call me ASAP. Your dad was in a car accident"
A/N: (Just a reminder that in Chapter 7 Caroline told Bonnie she would send her homework to do online, hence Bonnie doing schoolwork )
Thank you again, everyone, for the reviews and follows. It always amazes me how much support this little fic has, and it never fails to cheer me up. I hope this chapter wasn't boring, since it's more of glimpse into Bonnie's daily life with Klaus and Monique. Since the preceding chapters have been somewhat action-driven I felt it was important to have a breather before stuff starts happening again. Those of you on Tumblr know I've recently been playing around on Pixlr, and I've made a couple of edits for this fic. Just search "my edits" on my blog if you want to see them. Looking forward to your thoughts in the reviews!
