The Cure For This
(Written for Day 11 – Tropes of the 25DaysofKlaroline event on Tumblr. Prompt from cupcakemolotov: KC + sex pollen. Title from 'Girl, You Have No Faith In Medicine' by The White Stripes. Smut).
Inhale. Exhale.
She wants to scream. And break things. And cry, just a little.
Inhale. Exhale.
Her current predicament, if Caroline really thought about it, was all Elena's fault.
Inhale. Exhale.
And wasn't that kind of the story of Caroline's life?
Inhale. Exhale.
God, if she didn't love Elena, she'd really hate Elena.
Inhale. Exhale.
A good chunk of her teenage insecurities? Because of Elena Gilbert's effortless perfection and catnip like appeal to boys Caroline wanted. She'd been turned to get to Elena, thrust into a whole new, scary world, almost died so many times she'd stopped counting, all to get to Elena.
Inhale. Exhale.
And now she was trapped in some run down rented room, feeling like she was going to die if she couldn't get off.
Inhale. Exhale.
A tearing sound, broke Caroline's concentration, and her head thumped back onto the mattress, the contents of her pillow littered under her head. Caroline stared resentfully at the ceiling, her fingers twisted in the ruined pillow.
The whole calming herself through mindful breathing idea was clearly a bust. She's thought she could distract herself, from her screaming body, from her out of control libido.
It didn't work. Her skin prickled, begging for touch, her stomach quivering and the space between her thighs uncomfortably slick and hot.
Freaking Elena and her stupid curse. And damn Damon and his obsession with breaking it!
He couldn't just wait, could he? What was sixty years, to a vampire, really? But no, he had to have Elena right now, screw everyone else. And the dick was an expert at playing on Bonnie's sympathies, on her guilt, to get what he wanted.
Bonnie's latest lead had led her to South America. She'd tracked down references to a witch who'd been something of a sleeping curse prodigy (and wasn't that a claim to fame?) in the early 19th century. Bonnie's sources said she was buried in Bolivia, and Bonnie thought she'd worked out a way to make contact, even though the collapse of The Other Side made it difficult. Spirits had to go somewhere, Bonnie had insisted.
Caroline had been skeptical, but the itch to travel had steadily grown, after her mother had died, and her ties to Mystic Falls weakened.
She could do Europe later, why not start somewhere warmer? She was totally a beach girl, after all.
So she'd offered to tag along and four days later Caroline had been trekking through the Amazon rainforest, several paces behind Bonnie and Enzo, awed by the colors and the smells and the sounds.
Too awed, which had led to her epic, and disastrous, bout of clumsiness.
Just once, she'd like for a walk in the woods to actually be a walk in the woods.
Stumbling off the path she'd landed face first in a patch of bright purple flowers. She'd sneezed loudly, and repeatedly, calling Bonnie and Enzo's attention to her.
Caroline had glanced up, sheepish, expecting to be mocked. But both Enzo and Bonnie had looked horrified. Stuttering, Bonnie had explained that the pretty purple blooms had been in the grimoire she'd been studying. And that they had a peculiar effect on vampires.
Totally something that should have been mentioned before, Caroline had admonished, even as she felt her temperature rising, the telltale stirrings in her belly making her uncomfortable.
Needless to say, they'd booked it back to the motel they were staying in, to regroup.
And they'd not left it since then.
Caroline leaped out of the bed, and resumed the pacing she'd been doing, before her failed attempts at breath exercises.
The door creaked open, Enzo's head peeking warily into the room, his eyes sympathetic, "Alright, gorgeous?"
Caroline's only response was a snarl. Her hand reached out blindly, snatched a lamp off the dresser (it was bolted down, but no match for her vampire strength and current state of agitation) and she flung it towards the door.
It's not that she didn't appreciate the concern. But she wasn't really in a state to deal with it graciously, between the demands her body was making, and her nerves about the person who'd been called in to help, whose arrival was imminent,
The cheap lamp smashed uselessly into the barrier Bonnie had produced to contain her (at Caroline's insistence, once the urges had gotten too great, and the temptation of people moving about outside nearly impossible to resist) and Enzo didn't even flinch as it shattered on the floor.
"Right," Enzo said casually, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame, "I'll just take that as a no."
She turned away from him, swallowing back a growl. Her muscles ached, pulled tight and strained from the tension that had built up in the past few hours. The light cotton dress she wore was killing her. The whispers of the fabric against her skin, insanely sensitive from whatever witchy juju was screwing with her, were maddening and it was a struggle not to tear it off.
She wore nothing underneath, her nipples were stiff and her thighs were damp with her arousal, the scent of it obvious in the room.
She'd never been this turned on in her life, including the first few weeks after she'd become a vampire, when all she'd thought about was sex and blood.
She'd tried, she'd really really really tried, to fight it. Told herself mind over matter.
If anyone could muster the self-control to beat a vampire amative (the fact that she hadn't known that such a thing existed was completely unacceptable. She was going to have serious words, with Stefan and Damon at some point, because both of them sucked at teaching Vampire 101) coursing through her system, shouldn't it be Caroline? She'd mastered her cravings (for the most part), taught herself compulsion, for god's sake.
That had lasted about an hour. And then she'd kicked Bonnie and Enzo out of the room, and tried to take care of the, ahem, problem, herself.
The relief, after she'd rubbed herself to a quick orgasm, had been short lived. Another twitch of need had started before the last waves of pleasure had even receded. It had built and built, not allowing Caroline to catch her breath.
A second try had yielded the same result.
Caroline had flipped over and screamed into the pillow. Then she'd forced herself into an icy cold shower, hoping it would help her focus.
It hadn't. The idea of getting dressed had been nearly unbearable but she'd made herself throw on a maxi dress, and leave her room, and knock on the door to Bonnie and Enzo's.
They'd let her in, sat down on the rickety chairs in the corner of their room, appearing various shades of guilty, awkward and uncomfortable. Caroline had remained standing, gritting her teeth and fighting to control her libido.
She'd found herself eyeing them hungrily, dirty fantasies bubbling through her brain. Flashes of Enzo's rough hands on her hips as he drove into her, images of her mouth creeping up Bonnie's thigh, tasting the skin while her friend trembled underneath them, flitted through Caroline's mind, leaving her panting and gripping the back of a chair to keep from pouncing.
That's when she knew she was in trouble.
Because those weren't thoughts she'd have, normally. She recognized that both Bonnie and Enzo were smoking hot individuals, of course. But they were strictly in the platonic pile, and grossly cute and devoted to each other, in a way Caroline would never interfere with.
"How do we fix this?" she gritted out, noticing the weathered grimoire, and Bonnie's open laptop, on the small table.
Bonnie looked like she'd swallowed a lemon, and she and Enzo exchanged significant looks. Finally Enzo sighed, and turned to Caroline, "You need to have sex," he'd informed her bluntly.
A dry laugh had fallen from Caroline's mouth, "No shit, Enzo. But I'm pretty sure your ears are more than good enough to hear what I just got up to. And it didn't help. There has to be more."
"The book is… vague," Bonnie said hesitantly. "It sounds like you could continue to, ah, self-stimulate, but it would take a while, and things would get worse before they'd get better."
"How long's awhile?" Caroline asked.
"Days. Maybe a week. Possibly more. It sounds like you got a bigger dose of the stimulant then recommended."
Caroline barely noticed the chair breaking under her grip. "Great," she muttered. "Just great. I guess I'll be in my room for the next week or so then, masturbating until I'm no longer desperately horny. Awesome trip, guys. Let's totally never do this again."
She turned to leave, positive that this will be humiliating later, once she's in control of herself, but Enzo's voice stopped her, "The notes say it'll burn through you faster, with a partner."
Caroline shook her head, dismissing that idea, "I'll break a human, like this. I won't be able to control my strength. And where are we going to find a vampire?"
More of those significant looks were tossed between Bonnie and Enzo. And Caroline began to get annoyed. "Spit it out," she'd demanded.
"We already called someone," Enzo had kindly informed her. "He said he'd take the next plane out."
Caroline stiffened at the proclamation, her eyes narrowing, "Who?" she'd bitten out. The options were limited, and she hadn't liked either of them. The thought of Damon ever touching her again made Caroline ill, and things were just beginning to get back on track with Stefan, after their disastrous attempt to trick themselves into thinking their friendship could be more. Adding obligation-sex to that equation is was not something Caroline wanted to do.
Plus the sex had always been kind of lacking, if she was being completely honest.
But it's not one of the Salvatore's names that Enzo had dropped.
"Klaus?" Caroline repeated, her voice pitching high in shock, "You called Klaus? How…"
"I have his number," Bonnie admitted guiltily, averting her eyes from Caroline's. "For emergencies."
"What kind of…" Caroline began, before pressing her mouth together, and deciding that she hadn't really wanted to know. "What did you…"
Bonnie didn't make her finish, "I just told him where we were, what we were here looking for. What happened. That you…"
"Am a completely incompetent vampire that freaking tripped and ended up with a face full of sex pollen?" Caroline finished, her volume increasing with every word.
Bonnie had looked lost, but Enzo managed to answer, "That was the gist of what we told him, yes. Luckily, he seemed to know his way around the stuff. Said blood will help with the symptoms, hold off the worst of the pain. Told us to acquire some, if we knew what was good for us."
"Pain?" Caroline had shrieked, ignoring the fact that Klaus seemed to think threats were kosher (for now).
Both Bonnie and Enzo had winced in tandem, "Right, did we forget to mention that part?" Enzo said, looking chagrined.
A disgusted noise was Caroline's only answer, as she'd stalked back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Shortly after, Enzo had knocked, telling her he'd brought the blood. Grudgingly, because she'd been was starving, she'd let him in. Caroline had torn into a bag, than another, hoping it would quell the discomfort that she could feel building in her bones, before the feeling progressed to the pain that was apparently coming.
She'd tried to pace herself, but that hadn't lasted long. She'd sucked down bag after bag, barely tasting it, growing shakier. Caroline was unaware of the time passing, only conscious of the throbbing of her body, the pangs, of discomfort mingled with want, growing more and more difficult to ignore. Her skin was damp, hot to the touch, her hair a wild mess from all the times she'd run her hands through it, all the times she'd pulled on the ends, in an attempt to force herself to focus.
Caroline knows she probably looks terrible, any makeup long since sweated off.
So not how she'd imagined seeing Klaus again.
In all her fantasies, of the next time they saw each other (and there'd been plenty), she's perfectly put together, whether he's the one surprising her, somewhere far from Mystic Falls, or she's the one, finally getting the guts to do what he'd once said she would, and showing up at his door. Sometimes she imagined stealing into a party he'd thrown, dressed to the nines, cool and collected and challenging him not to look shocked, in front of a room full of people. He's always thrilled to see her, in her head.
But, of course, in Caroline's life, things never work out quite like she wants them to.
She's been getting updates, on Klaus' progress, from Bonnie. To her friend's credit, she's managed to keep any commentary to herself, though Caroline imagines they'll be in for a good, long, awkward girl talk, once this situation has been dealt with.
Caroline's so not looking forward to that.
She'd been informed when he landed in La Paz, when he'd boarded the smaller aircraft that would take him to the corner of the country they were in. She's not been able to bring herself to pick up her own phone, and check to see if he'd contacted her directly.
Because seriously, what would she even say?
Bonnie had tapped on the door fifteen minutes ago, saying that she and Enzo were leaving (and compelling all the other guests to do the same…), that Klaus would arrive shortly, and did Caroline need anything else?
She'd croaked out a no, and sat down heavily on the bed, her thighs clenched together and her hands gripping the edge of the mattress.
The time to figure out what she'd say to Klaus was now, but Caroline still had nothing.
Words failed her, even when the door creaked open, when Klaus leaned against it, dropping his bag to the floor, exactly as she remembered him, and said, "Hello, Caroline."
The way he said her name had never been fair.
The noise that comes from Caroline's mouth is barely human, and she's off the bed without actively deciding to move, like she'd been catapulted, her hands in his hair and her legs around his waist in the next moment.
He catches her easily, using her momentum to spin them, slamming her back into a wall so hard she hears a crack. His hips pin hers, and she moans at the press of him between her thighs, cursing his jeans and her dress, bunched between them. She tried to push back, desperate for him to move, but he doesn't, and his hands are hard on her wrists, trapping them next to her head. Klaus looks at her for a long moment, cool and assessing. She manages to say his name, the thread of need obvious in the way she draws it out.
He looks pained, for a moment, but then he releases her, his hands dropping to her thighs and lifting her higher, taking two long strides and dropping her to the bed, following her down. Caroline claws at his shirt, and it comes off in shreds. Klaus doesn't seem to mind, flinging the remnants away. He sits up on his knees, and a protesting whimper emerges, as her legs lock around him, pressing her core into his hardening cock, needing his skin on hers.
"Shh, love," Klaus says, low and reassuring, his palms easing her dress up her thighs, "I'll take care of you, alright? Anything you need."
Caroline reaches for him, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling herself up and into his lap, grinding down with a moan. She slides her hand into the curls at the back of his head, pulling until his head tips back, and she can cover his mouth with hers.
He tastes better then she remembers, and she's greedy for more, biting down on his full lower lip until his mouth falls open, her tongue slipping inside to tease his. She can feel Klaus' hands on her hips, pulling her into him harder as she circles hers. She has to tear her mouth from his, has to gasp when she feels an orgasm building, the familiar tingle crawling up her spine.
She clutches at his back, rubs her nipples against the firm wall of his chest, "Klaus," she moans, moving against him frantically. She's never actually come like this before, didn't think it was possible. And maybe it's the hours of buildup, maybe it's the scent of him, one that she's never been able to forget, all around her, but she lets go with a shout, shuddering through it.
She buries her face in Klaus' throat, as she comes down, the haze of desire slightly abated, though she knows it will return quickly. He lets out a soft chuckle, running his fingers lightly down her back. He tries to pull away, but she burrows in further, the heat in her cheeks letting her know she'd probably fire-engine red, "I'm sorry," she mutters, her voice cracking.
The next thing she knows she's flat on her back, Klaus looming over her, looking quizzical as he smooths her tangled curls away from her face, "Whatever for?" he asks, appearing genuinely puzzled.
Caroline's pretty sure she's looking at him like he's nuts, "Um, let's see. I'm sorry the first time we see each other again is because I did something idiotic and needed your help. I'm sorry you had to fly across the world to supply said help. I'm sorry I didn't call you myself, and remind me to apologize for Bonnie for that one later too, I'm…"
"Would you have, Caroline?" he interrupts, before she can really get going. "Called me? Or would you have suffered, if your friends hadn't have taken the initiative?"
She shifts against him uncomfortable, as she's always been, with the way he sometimes looks at her, the way he sees her.
It's unnerving for a girl used to being overlooked and underestimated.
The shifting's a mistake, sending a new pulse through her, as she luxuriates in the lean lines of him pressed against her, and Caroline fights back a moan, her eyes fluttering shut.
When she opens them, Klaus is still staring down at her expectantly, though the tightness in her jaw lets her know he's not entirely unaffected by their proximity. "I wouldn't have," Caroline blurts out, and she almost misses the subtle way Klaus' face falls, probably would have, had they not been so close. "Not because I wouldn't have wanted to. Because I…" she struggles for words, looking away from him, and his too knowing eyes.
Klaus hand touches her cheek, gentle fingers tilting her chin back towards him, "Tell me why, Caroline. I said I'd help you, yes? Whatever you say, that won't change. It's no hardship, love. To be here. To have you underneath me, to touch you and watch you come apart."
That sends another flash of want through her, and she widens her legs, letting out a sigh when he settles against where she's aching for him.
"Caroline," he prods, his nose brushing her cheekbone.
She takes a shaky breath, before she speaks, screwing up her courage. "Because I didn't want it to be like this, okay?" Caroline bursts out, the words coming out in a rush, "I didn't want it to be some life or death supernatural crap. I didn't want to need something from you. I wanted it to be my choice."
Whatever response she'd been expecting, it's not the grin that lights Klaus' face. It's not his mouth, swooping down, taking hers with a fierceness that leaves her panting and squirming. She tries to follow, when he pulls away, but Klaus rests his forehead on hers, "Next time," he tells her simply, tone low and gravelly, flashing another smile, before he drags his lips down, planting a hot kiss on her throat.
He keeps going, tearing the straps of her dress off, dragging the fabric down her body. He kisses her breasts, sucks and bites until she's writhing under him, mindless little pleas for more spilling from her. He smirks, before he moves lower, nipping down her stomach, his tongue darting out to taste her skin, appreciative rumbles coming from him. He kisses her navel, drawing her thighs up, settling between them on his elbows, like he's planning on staying awhile.
The thought has her back arching, and her hands twisting into the bedsheets, to stop herself from grabbing a handful of his hair, and dragging him to where she wants him.
His lips just brush her folds, before he's pulling back, and Caroline whines in protest, no longer capable of feeling embarrassed by how badly she wants him. "And no more apologies, love," he murmurs, meeting her eyes. She sucks in a breath, at the heated promise in his gaze, her toes curling in anticipation, "They are completely unnecessary. Trust me."
There's a joke, ready to tumble out of her, but then Klaus' fingers are parting her, and his tongue's teasing her clit with tiny swipes and rough circles.
And then it's a long time, until Caroline's able to verbalize a thought that makes any kind of sense.
Don't Stand So Close To Me
(Written for Day 13 – High School of the 25DaysofKlaroline event on Tumblr. Prompt from klarolineforevermine: "I'm the drama teacher and you're the only who can actually act, help me demonstrate this love scene to my students" AU Title from The Police song. Rated T).
It was a struggle for Caroline, not to visible cringe, at the sight before her. This was supposed to be epic, life changing, romance. The stuff dreams were made of.
On the page it was. In life, right now? Not so much.
The leading man was clearly nursing a ginormous, and painfully unrequited crush on his scene partner. He was tomato red, and his voice kept cracking.
Not exactly apropos, when he was supposed to be playing a sophisticated, charming, Frenchman.
To the leading lady, Lucy's, credit, she was trying. She tended to go a bit dead in the eyes, and flat in the face, thinking too hard about her next move. But Caroline knew that could be worked on, would improve, as she got more comfortable with the lines. Lucy was a hell of a singer, and an even better dancer. And she was nice enough not to laugh at the poor kid making desperate heart eyes at her.
If she'd known that assistant directing her alma mater's spring musical was going to turn into directing-directing the show she might have said no. Even though she'd talked one of her stage craft professors into letting her use the experience as a final project.
She wasn't sure if even that was worth it sometimes.
Caroline called cut, just before the actor playing Emile attempted a kiss.
A not-so-quiet mutter of, "Oh, thank god," had nervous giggles erupting from the others who'd been watching the rehearsal. And left both of the actors on stage shuffling awkwardly, looking anywhere but at each other.
Caroline closed her eyes in annoyance, recognizing the voice. He'd been a general thorn in her side, since the first day she'd showed up (she might have totally checked him out – in her defense he did not look like he was still in high school) to help out with the musical. He'd been pushing desks aside, sleeves rolled up to reveal very ogleable forearms, and she'd kind of assumed that he was another recruit, like she was. Not a student.
That was until Mrs. Rogers, Caroline's old drama teacher (and dab hand at a guilt trip, hence Caroline agreeing to make the drive from Whitmore, several times a week) had introduced him. His name was Klaus Mikaelson, and he'd transferred in at the beginning of the year. A senior, and judging by the tattoo Caroline had noticed peeking out from the collar of his shirts occasionally, over eighteen, but a high schooler nonetheless.
Not her finest moment. Caroline thought she'd be at least thirty, before the first time she felt like a pervy old lady.
She might have flushed a little, her appreciative thoughts about how good his ass looked in jeans still fresh in her mind, when she'd shaken his hand, and told him it was nice to meet him.
"Likewise, Caroline," he'd drawled, "Mrs. Rogers has been most effusive, about your talents." The little smirk he'd given her, the way his eyes had dropped, lingering on the length of her legs, left bare by her shorts, made it pretty clear to Caroline that he wasn't exactly uninterested in her.
A small comfort, at the time. He was a student, Caroline kept reminding herself. And therefore 110% off limits.
But seriously, adding the accent on top of his physical attributes was just not fair.
Which might have been why Caroline spent some time googling the legalities, of her situation. Just for curiosities sake. Consensus seemed to be that hooking up with him wouldn't exactly kosher, but since she was a volunteer, the internet seemed to think that Caroline probably wouldn't get arrested for it. A good thing, because that would be an awkward mother-daughter moment.
Not that she thought about sleeping with Klaus. Or was planning to, obviously.
Caroline realized that the room was unusually silent, than everyone was staring at her curiously, probably because she'd not said anything after halting the scene. Oops. She shook her thoughts away, and forced herself to focus.
Caroline stood up, and clapped her hands together, forcing a cheerful tone, "Good work, everyone! Why don't we take ten? Meet back here when you're done and we'll try this scene again."
Chairs scraped and bags were shuffled, quiet conversations starting up as the high schoolers drifted out of the room, "Except you, Klaus," Caroline said sternly, pinning him with a hard look.
He hadn't left his seat, and he held up his hands, a deceptively angelic look on his face, "Whatever you say, Miss Forbes. Have I been very naughty?"
People still within earshot let out giggles, but Caroline ignored them, eyeing them until they left the room.
She really, really did not miss high school.
"Cut the crap, Klaus," Caroline bit out, once the doors closed behind the stragglers, "I don't have time for your 'I'm too cool for this' BS, okay? We've got only a couple more weeks to pull everything together. And frankly, I have a lot of other things on my plate. If you don't want to be here, you know where the door is. I can pull someone from the ensemble to take over Captain Brackett."
Klaus had left his chair, during her rant, ambling towards her, stopping just a little too close for Caroline's comfort. His hands were in his pockets, but his face had changed, softened, "You sound a mite stressed, love."
"Understatement," Caroline said, letting out a short laugh, "I get that Mrs. Rodgers didn't know she'd be on bedrest but this is way more work than I was planning on."
"I think you're doing quite well," Klaus tells her, quiet and sincere.
Caroline shoots him a skeptical look, ignoring the tiny spark of gratitude at the reassurance, "Really?" she asks dryly, "because your commentary suggests otherwise."
"I'm not mocking you, love."
"Because mocking your fellow actors is so much better?" Caroline asks pointedly.
He has the grace to look chagrined, "Perhaps you've a point."
"Duh. And guess what, making fun of Adam isn't going to make him feel less awkward, you jerk. And I need him to feel less awkward. So everyone else will feel less awkward."
"Yes. He's coming across a bit virginal, is he not? Not exactly what the part calls for."
Caroline pinches the bridge of her nose, to keep herself from groaning at how right Klaus was. And about the fact that she had no idea how to fix it.
Klaus chuckles, "Perhaps you should sit him down for a bit of a birds and the bees chat, yeah? Maybe if he knows how things work he won't be so scared."
"Is this you helping?" Caroline deadpans. "Because it's not helpful. At all."
Instead of answering Klaus grabs her hand. Caroline feels her brows shoot up, and she glances down to where his thumb is tracing small, shiver inducing, circles over her wrist, "It'll work out, Caroline," he tells her, his voice brimming with confidence that she wishes she had. "I promise."
She knows she probably shouldn't be letting him touch her. But it kind of feels really good.
"How old are you?" Caroline finds herself blurting out, immediately wishing she could take it back, and watching a slow, pleased, grin slide across his face.
"I'll be nineteen in July."
A little older than she'd thought (and maybe a couple of months didn't really matter, but they couldn't hurt!) and Caroline vaguely wonders if he's inflating things, in hopes of getting himself a better shot, "And if I wanted proof of that?" she wonders, a note of suspicion creeping out.
Klaus appears unoffended, dropping her hand and digging out his wallet. He rifles through it, before handing her his driver's license. She studies it, notes the birthdate, and the fact that he's telling the truth.
"And you graduated two years ago, according to the spiel Mrs. Rogers gave us."
"Twenty-one in October," Caroline tells him, having a good idea of where he's going with this.
"Less than two years. Barely worth noting," Klaus says, smirking at her while he puts his wallet away, edging closer, until she can feel the heat of him, inches from her skin.
Caroline rolls her eyes, taking a step away from. It takes more effort than it should. "Says you," she retorts. "I've never been into younger guys." Technically true. She could admit, to herself, that Klaus was an exception, but he didn't need to know that.
"Mmm," Klaus murmurs knowingly, "I'd believe that, but you're not exactly subtle, when you undress me with your eyes."
She feels her jaw drop, at how baldly he'd stated that (because she had been discrete, damn it!), and she reaches out to shove him, as she denies, "I do not do that!"
Klaus dodges her easily, his laughter ringing out, "Don't be ashamed, love. I find it incredibly flattering."
Caroline sputters, groping for a reply, when she hears the door to the classroom creak open, "Just shut up," she hisses, to a still laughing Klaus, spinning on her heel and stalking to the center of the room.
She pastes a smile on, as she waits for everyone to trickle in and settle down. "Alright!" she says, once she seems to have everyone's attention. "Now, would anyone like to share their thoughts on the scene we've been working on?"
She's met with downcast eyes and uneasy shifting. Holding back a sigh, and silently apologizing, she looks over at Jessica, the quiet girl who plays Liat, who's struck Caroline as being more observant then most of her fellow students, "Come on now, judgement free zone, remember? Jessica, what did you think?"
"Well…" the girl hedges, glancing around, "it was a little uh… stiff? Not super romantic."
Caroline can work with that. "Good, that's good feedback," she praises. "And I agree, but we can work on that. Now, I'm going to step into the Nellie role, and Klaus has graciously offered to play Emile for a moment."
He hadn't and he wouldn't have, even if she'd bothered asking. But payback was a bitch, wasn't it?
Klaus' eyes widen, "I can't sing like that," he protests, even as he gets reluctantly to his feet, his hands nervously straightening his shirt.
She knows. He's a good actor, but a subpar singer. Which explains why his part doesn't require it. "That's fine," Caroline tells him breezily. Because she's not completely heartless. "Adam and Lucy will do the vocals. It'll be good practice for them."
A hint of relief enters Klaus' expression, and his movements turn back into his usual swagger, a hint of mischief brightening his blue eyes, "Where do you want me then, Miss Forbes?"
Caroline narrows her eyes at him warningly, for the flirty tone he's adopted. He blinks at her, feigning confusion. She can't say anything, not with dozens of eyes watching them, and he knows it. She turns slightly away, making sure her principle actors are paying attention. "Now, you have to remember that Emile is older than Nellie. He's already been married, already lived. So he knows what he wants. And he goes after it. He's persuasive. Passionate. He…" Caroline lets out a squeak, not having noticed Klaus move closer, as she'd shifted into lecture mode. He's wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her body into the line of his. She can feel his breath on her neck.
She really hadn't expected this to backfire so quickly.
Caroline swallows, ignoring the nervous butterflies making their presence known, struggling to keep her tone even, "Don't be afraid to touch each other. Body language is important. Your characters are drawn to each other, irresistibly, despite their differences. There has to be a physical component, right? They want each other."
Klaus hums, and he's very quiet, speaking so low that Caroline only just catches what he says, and he's pressed right up against her, his lips nearly brushing her ear, "I do like it when you talk dirty, love. I'd like it even better if we were alone."
Klaus' hand drifts down her back, dangerously low. She's glad no one else can see it, when his fingertip traces along the waistband of her shorts.
Caroline inhales, a touch shaky, before she steps back, away from Klaus. "Let's take it from the proposal."
"Nellie, will you marry me?" Klaus asks, shifting into character, instantly nervous and plaintive and perfect. She kind of hates him for it, her skin still tingling from where his had brushed it.
Luckily, he has a few more lines, enough for Caroline to remember hers.
He looks almost impressed, when she doesn't falter, his gaze appreciative. It makes her want to roll her eyes, and makes it easier to ignore the way her body wants to fling itself at his.
Stupid body. As if she'd ever let herself reward that kind of cockiness.
The scene continues, and Caroline melts into it, their lines flowing nicely, and the push-pull of their bodies feeling natural.
And she maybe clings to him a little more than she should. But it's totally in the script. The little gasp Klaus emits when she pushes her hips into his, way more than necessary, is kind of satisfying.
When they're done, a few people clap, and Caroline laughs, takes a theatrical curtsey, while Klaus flees the attention. "Why thank you! Was that helpful?"
Lucy looks thoughtful, Adam a bit intimidated, but they both nod gamely. "Why don't you two try it?" Caroline instructs. "Don't worry about nailing the lines, just work on the movements, and get more comfortable."
Both get to their feet, and Caroline lets them take her and Klaus' place, in the center of the room. She retakes her chair, feels Klaus behind her. His fingertips brush fleetingly along her shoulders, and then his low voice is in her ear again, "That was quite a performance."
"Thank you," Caroline replies, feigning modesty.
Tell me. If I were to ask you out, what would you say?"
She checks to make sure no one's paying attention. All eyes seem to be on the scene (slightly less stilted then before, she's thrilled to note) playing out, so she thinks she's safe. Caroline turns her head, just so she can see Klaus' face, resting on the arm he's got draped over the back of the chair next to her, "Right now? I'd say no."
Klaus' face falls, but Caroline continues, before he sits back, "But if you were to ask me after we wrapped, well…" she lets her thought trail off, lets a teasing smile curl her lips as her eyes dart down to his.
Because screw it. She's not exactly a stranger to sex. And the things Klaus had made her feel, in the scant few minutes she'd spent in his arms, were worth exploring. Call it chemistry, or compatibility. It's what Caroline would be thinking about, when she went to bed tonight.
Klaus looks intrigued, leaning in closer, "Well?" he prompts.
Caroline shrugs, making a show of turning her attention to the actors, "I guess you'll just have to ask and see, won't you?"
(He does, the second he walks off stage after taking his bow, tugging her behind a curtain, before she can even utter a good job. She says yes, and kisses him, fast and messy and exhilarating, to the sounds of the applause still echoing through the theater).