So I'm finally back. I apologize for the delay. I know I said I wanted to shorten the length of my chapters so I could post faster, but that didn't happen with this chapter. As a result, I've split the part up into two. This is the first part. The second one will be posted in a few days once my beta has edited it and I've had a chance to make some revisions.
I've gotten a lot of concerned messages from people over the past month, worried that I have abandoned this story. I have not abandoned it. Updates will take longer now that I'm in school. I apologize. If I ever do intend to abandon this fanfiction or stop actively working on it for a time, I'll be sure to let all of you know. You deserve that.
Thank you so much for your concern and for your patience. And thanks to my beta, livingdeadblondegirl/livingdeadblondequeen for being awesome.
I put a lot of time and effort into the following two chapters, so I hope you enjoy them. It's basically all klaroline and nothing hurts. :D
The sound of Grayson crying and the click of her door startled her awake.
She shielded her crusty eyes from the sun that was pouring into her room despite the closed curtains.
When she rubbed them, the sides of her index fingers turned black from her eye makeup.
"Shit," she groaned as she kicked away the heavy blankets.
She was sweating and her head was pounding. Her mouth felt drier than a dessert and her stomach was spinning like a washing machine.
Rolling over on the mattress, she noticed a glass of water and her alarm clock that indicated it was almost noon.
Grayson's monitor was missing and her bedroom door was indeed closed.
Her eyes widened and she shot up from the mattress.
Her mind raced in panic about Grayson, until she could faintly hear Klaus's voice and Grayson's cries quiet.
Sighing in relief, she slouched over in defeat; sitting up that fast had made her feel lightheaded.
She was definitely hungover, she concluded.
It had been so long since she had drank herself that drunk, but the sickening feeling that inevitably followed was unmistakable.
She attempted to piece the previous day together to make sense of how she got herself into such a gross state.
CPS had paid them an impromptu visit yesterday afternoon, and then...then she got ready to go out. She went to the Grill with Meredith and Camille.
She covered her hands in her face, attempting to connect the dots.
Klaus had stayed at the house with Stefan to watch Grayson.
She could remember tequila shots at the Grill
There had been a band playing; her ears were still ringing from the music.
She couldn't remember anything else though. She didn't remember leaving the Grill; she couldn't remember how she and Meredith got home, or how she even got up the stairs to bed.
The failure of her memory unnerved her. She never let herself get that drunk for that very reason. She hadn't had a night like that since college.
Looking down at what she was wearing, she concluded that she had somehow managed to change before she went to bed.
On the floor, she noticed her clothes, undergarments, and heels from the night before in a pile.
She scanned her body for bruises, unsure of how she was able to drunkenly change herself unscathed.
Her skin was untouched.
Wiping her face again, she cringed when her fingers happened to brush against her matted and unruly hair.
Dipping her head so she could examine the damage, she winced, noticing a few damp strands. She smelt them cautiously and began to gag.
At some point in the night she had puked in her hair.
Oh god, she cried, eyeing the bed around her warily for any sign that she had been sick in her sleep.
Her sheets were clean.
Sighing with partial relief, she reached for the glass of water undeterred by the fact that it was probably warm after sitting for hours. She emptied the glass.
Checking her cell phone, she noticed two messages from Camille and Meredith. Both messages asked her how she was feeling. Clearly she had been a mess last night. She sent them both quick messages assuring them, untruthfully, that she was fine.
Swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress, she stood up slowly.
How did she really feel? She felt like shit.
Without even looking at herself in the mirror, she headed straight for the bathroom in hopes that a shower would mitigate the effects of her hangover.
There was no way she was stepping foot outside her bedroom in the state she was presently in.
Surely Klaus was aware of her drunken episode last night. He and Stefan had obviously been here when she arrived home with Meredith last night, although she couldn't remember anything about it.
He was probably dying to make fun of her.
She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how terrible she felt.
Perhaps if she at least made herself look presentable, she could trick herself into feeling presentable.
She doubted it, but it was worth a try.
While the hot water from the shower was soothing, and it was a relief to be able to wash her hair clean, the heat was stifling and made her feel even more light headed, so she didn't enjoy it as much as she hoped she would.
At least when she stepped in front of the bathroom mirror she didn't look as haggard as she still felt.
She dried her hair, leaving it to its natural waviness. She was too unenthused to fight with her curling iron or even a hair tie.
Her makeup was no more creative. To be honest, she would have preferred to go without so she could wipe her face and eyes as she wished without consequence, but she still looked a little rough without it.
For clothes, her first instinct was an old college sweater and some sweatpants, but she opted for uncomfortable jeans and a fitted light pink sweater instead. She didn't want anyone to think she was as hungover as she was.
She kind of wanted to hide out in her room all day and sleep it off, but she knew that wouldn't be fair to Klaus. Since she had last night free, technically it was her day to watch Grayson if he wanted to go out later - which he no doubt did after he had spent all of yesterday and most of today on his own with him.
Besides, there was no way she could stay up here without going to investigate the delicious aroma of bacon she could smell drifting upstairs from the kitchen and into her bedroom.
Maybe it was a trap Klaus had set to get her to wake up and come downstairs? Regardless, she didn't care as long as he had made enough so she could claim some for herself.
If a shower wouldn't cure her hangover, maybe some grease and aspirin would.
She walked downstairs sluggishly, despite the groans of her stomach urging her to move faster. It felt physically impossible. Her body ached and her feet were sore from the heels she had foolishly decided to wear the night before.
Grayson was the first to notice her when she entered the kitchen.
He was seated in his highchair with a bottle clutched firmly in both hands.
His face seemed to light up when he saw her and she couldn't help but smile back.
Cracking eggs into a frying pan with his back to them, Klaus seemed unaware of her presence due to the spitting of the bacon and the whirring of the stove fan.
Glancing around the kitchen, she noticed Grayson's paintings from yesterday displayed prominently on the fridge door. Her stomach flipped anxiously as she recalled how Grayson's painting activity had somehow resulted in her being pinned beneath Klaus on the kitchen floor.
Why did her hazy hungover mind allow her to think of that all of the sudden? The last thing she wanted to do was have things be awkward between her and Klaus again - especially when she couldn't remember much about the last twenty-four hours.
She blamed Grayson's paintings and cursed them silently while simultaneously gushing over the reality of Grayson's first artwork and the fact that Klaus had decided to showcase them on the fridge - err at least she thought it was Klaus since she couldn't remember doing it herself.
Looking down at the floor beneath her, goose bumps rose on her skin.
She wondered over the possibilities if Grayson's disappearance hadn't interrupted them.
They would have kissed. Klaus would have kissed her. She would have kissed back.
As her stomach turned a little faster, she shook her mind of the thought.
Grayson dropped his bottle onto the table and started to whine as he reached out for her.
That noise garnered Klaus's attention and he turned around as she picked up an eager Grayson.
"Morning," she greeted both of them, nuzzling Grayson's face with her own while his hands latched onto her sweater immediately and his feet kicked excitedly against her torso.
Klaus glanced over at the clock on the wall.
"Good afternoon," he corrected her with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes.
"It's only quarter after twelve. I was up before noon," she protested.
"Only because of Grayson I presume?" Klaus inquired. "I let him nap a little late," he admitted.
"It's all right. I needed to get up anyways," she admitted, her voice turning cute as she directed her attention towards Grayson.
"I think he's happy to see you," Klaus pointed out, observing Grayson.
She looked at Grayson with wide eyes.
"Are you happy to see me?" she beamed.
Grayson blabbered contentedly.
"I'll take that as a yes, monkey," she concluded, kissing his cheek.
He tried to avoid her kisses, turning his head away playfully before outstretching his arms back towards his discarded bottle.
"I guess you're done with me," she sighed, placing him back in his highchair so he could reclaim his bottle.
"It's amazing how quickly the novelty wears off," Klaus chuckled.
She nodded with a shrug watching Grayson grab for his bottle and devour the remainder of the contents.
With Grayson occupied, she headed for the cabinet with the aspirin and tried to remove the bottle discreetly despite knowing Klaus's eyes were on her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked amusedly.
She looked down at the pill bottle with a shrug.
"I just have a little headache," she conceded nonchalantly as she opened the fridge in search of some juice.
"Really?" Klaus inquired, as she poured herself a glass of orange juice.
"Really," she emphasized, taking the aspirin and a sip of her drink.
The taste of the orange juice nearly made her gag as she swallowed the pill. It tasted like there was vodka pre-mixed into the carton.
Klaus snorted.
"Okay, so maybe I had a bit too much to drink last night, but I'm fine," she assured him, emptying the rest of the juice into the sink.
"I'd say drinking rum straight from the bottle and attempting to do shots of scotch is enough to constitute a bit too much," he chuckled, tending to the food on the stove.
She gasped.
"I did?" she wondered.
"You don't remember?" Klaus questioned with a serious undertone to his voice that unnerved her.
"I don't remember much of anything about last night," she admitted guiltily.
Her admission seemed to provoke a fleeting look of relief on Klaus's face before he erupted into laughter.
"Well I hope you're hungry because you demanded that I make you breakfast," he informed her.
She tried to remember their conversation but she couldn't. The toast popping up from the toaster nearly made her jump.
"You asked for omelets, but we didn't have all the ingredients, so I hope scrambled eggs will suffice?" he laughed.
Standing there dumbfounded, she nodded blankly.
"I made the hash browns though, and the bacon, and the pancakes, and the toast. We didn't have the sausage, ham, or waffles you requested," he explained as he finished with the food on the stove and began preparing a plate of food.
Clearly Klaus was finding this entertaining.
"I can't believe this," she groaned, relenting, nevertheless, and removing the toast from the toaster.
"You tried making macaroni and cheese when you got home last night, so I assume you have an appetite," he shrugged, passing her a plate of food.
All she could do at this point was laugh at her behaviour from the previous night.
"I can eat," she told him, not wanting his efforts to go to waste, even if she had the slight impression that he only cooked her breakfast to entertain himself with her reaction.
He nodded with a playful grin before heading over to the dining table to sit beside Grayson.
"How far did I get? With the macaroni and cheese?" she asked curiously, sitting down at the head of the table on the other side of Grayson's highchair.
Klaus laughed once more.
"You had the pot of water on the wrong burner, love," he told her.
She cringed with embarrassment.
"That was after you chugged from a bottle of rum and tried to do shots of Elijah's expensive scotch," he added.
"Should I even bother to ask what else happened?" she hesitated.
"You really don't remember anything?" Klaus asked before taking a bite of food.
She shook her head definitively.
"I don't remember what happened at the Grill, except that there was a band and I had tequila shots. I don't remember how we got home. I don't remember going to bed," she confessed.
Concealed under his amused expression, she sensed a hint of apprehension on his face.
It was quickly buried by more laughter from him.
"There was definitely a band at the Grill last night, sweetheart. According to Meredith, you auditioned to be one of their back up dancers until Camille pulled you off stage," he said.
She gasped in humiliation as she swallowed a delicious piece of bacon.
"Oh my god," she bemoaned.
"Then there was your altercation with Vicki Donovan..." Klaus continued.
Her body went numb with trepidation.
It couldn't have been that bad, could it? She hadn't woken up this morning at the police station, so that was a good sign. Unless of course Klaus had come to bail her out and she hadn't remembered a thing.
"According to you, she incited you and you responded by throwing a drink in her face. Needless to say, Matt had to ask you to leave," he chuckled.
Great, so not only did she dance on stage like a stripper, she harassed Vicki and ruined Meredith and Camille's night by getting kicked out of the Grill.
"I don't think I've ever been kicked out of the Grill before," she sighed, fighting back an inappropriate laugh.
"You have me beat there, sweetheart," Klaus acknowledged. "Do you remember your little spat with Vicki? What did she say to get you so riled up?"
Klaus's persistent inquiries triggered a hazy recollection of her confrontation with Vicki.
It had been about Klaus. Vicki teased her and referred to Klaus as her boyfriend. She denied it vehemently. Vicki didn't let it go until she used Grayson as her alternative line of attack. She might have had more restraint had she not been so drunk, but she quickly remembered how angry she felt. Vicki mentioning Grayson was the last straw for her.
"She brought Grayson up," she said finally, conveniently skipping over the part about the fact that Vicki had first used Klaus as a means to get to her.
"She basically told me I should be at home taking care of him instead of taking shots at the Grill," she sighed, eyeing Grayson guiltily.
In hindsight, she probably would have been better off spending the night in with Grayson.
She could tell Klaus was agitated by Vicki's latest stunt.
"She shouldn't have said that," he remarked, seeming just as guilty as she felt. "You shouldn't feel guilty for going out last night. Gray slept the whole time you were gone," he reassured her.
"Well, I probably shouldn't have thrown a drink in her face," she conceded.
"I'm tempted to give you a high-five," Klaus said, encouraging her drunken behaviour. "It sounds like she deserved it."
She laughed and took another hungry taste of her breakfast.
"So what other stupid things did I do last night?" she wondered.
The initial appearance of a slight frown on Klaus's face was quickly replaced by a grin that was growing wider by the second.
"Have you ever kissed a girl before, love?" Klaus wondered.
Confusion overtook her as she tried to use Klaus's hint to jog her own memory to no avail.
"I might have kissed Elena on a dare back in high school, why, what happened?" she asked nervously.
Klaus arched an intrigued eyebrow in response to her revelation.
"You kissed Elena?" he asked cheekily.
"Seriously?! Klaus, just tell me what happened?!" she demanded, shooting him a threatening glare that urged him to get to the point.
"Nothing too major...you just kissed Meredith last night before she left," Klaus shrugged casually, purposely ignoring her as he stared down at his plate with a smirk on his face. "On the lips, with tongue," he emphasized.
Her hands covered her horrified expression.
"I shouldn't have even asked," she groaned. "Oh my god that's so embarrassing. I guess I can add sexual assault to my list of drunken things I did last night," she lamented. "Meredith probably hates me now."
"She should be thanking you. You're probably a much better kisser than Stefan," he snorted.
"And I'm sure you would know?" she retorted, trying to make a dig at Klaus, but only throwing herself back into the fire in the process.
"Well, there was that one time Stefan and I..." he couldn't finish his sentence before he erupted into more laughter. "Trust me, love, if Meredith doesn't thank you, Stefan should, you gave him quite the show with his girlfriend last night," Klaus teased.
"You're disgusting," she scowled, throwing a balled up paper napkin in his direction.
Grayson squealed at the projectile as Klaus caught it in his hand.
"I'm just trying to spare your guilty conscience," he said innocently.
"Is there anything else I should have a guilty conscience over?" she asked him.
Even though she couldn't remember, she felt like there was more to the story than Klaus was letting on.
Klaus's laughter was subdued as she traded looks between him and her breakfast plate.
She noticed Klaus's attention turn towards the family room and that's when another fragment of her memory returned.
The hip-hop music she had turned on the night before played faintly in her mind as she recalled climbing atop the sofa just out of Klaus's grasp demanding that he dance with her. He refused, insisting that she go to bed. When she inevitably fell from the sofa, he caught her. He pleaded with her to go to bed and she refused, begging instead for him to touch her. He refused, but she couldn't remember what happened after that.
Suddenly, as the entirety of the memory pieced itself together, the aroma of her breakfast was no longer appealing.
Her body began to sweat, her mouth began to water, and her stomach started to attempt back flips.
She looked down at the egg and instantly felt queasy.
"I feel sick," she complained, pushing the chair back as she rushed over to the sink.
Leaning over the counter, she gripped the edges of the sink and lowered her head.
A few seconds later, the breakfast she had just eaten was coming back up and collecting in the drain.
Her eyes ran hot with tears as she continued to be sick.
She hated this feeling.
Her body went rigid as she felt his fingertips on the back of her neck. They sent a jolt of electricity straight down her spine.
She was confused by his action until he began to gather up her hair.
That's when she remembered being in the bathroom with him last night. Her matted hair had suggested to her earlier that she had been sick, but she couldn't remember until now.
She had been buckled over the toilet seat emptying her guts of the alcohol she had consumed into the bowl when Klaus came into the bathroom and sat with her, holding her hair behind her neck similar to how he was now.
"It's okay, Caroline, just get it out," he encouraged her comfortingly.
Get it out she did, as she spent several more minutes hunched over the sink
She groaned painfully, spitting out excess saliva to ensure the sickness was completely out of her system.
"I hate getting sick," she muttered, raising her head cautiously as Klaus released her hair.
She ran her fingers under her eyes to dry the tears that had pooled above her cheeks.
Grayson had started to cry from his chair.
Klaus handed her a cloth from the sink as he had last night so she could clean her face before he went to retrieve Grayson who had obviously been disturbed by the commotion.
She cleaned her face off with the cloth while Klaus picked Grayson up and brought him over to her.
"See? Caroline is okay," Klaus assured Grayson. "She just got sick, like you tend to do on occasion," he mused as Grayson calmed a little upon seeing her face.
She smiled at Grayson's sense of concern for her – although she was sure he certain his outburst was caused by her own sudden outburst.
"Awe, I'm okay sweetie," she cooed cupping his cheek, taking him from Klaus. "I just drank a little too much alcohol last night and I'm a little more hungover than I thought," she admitted to both him and Klaus.
"Apparently so," Klaus said in a way that was both amused and sympathetic.
"I'm sorry," she apologized.
He shrugged seemingly confused by her apology.
"What is there to be sorry for exactly?" he wondered. "People who have consumed too much alcohol tend to get sick. Trust me, I know," he chuckled.
"This is the second time in a matter of hours that I've subjected you to that lovely scene," she sighed.
Klaus seemed unsure.
"I thought you didn't remember..." he hesitated suspiciously.
She shook her head.
"I remember being in the bathroom keeled over the toilet. You sat with me while I hurled. You managed to save most of my hair," she laughed lightly.
He smiled slowly.
"You sounded like a dying animal; I wasn't going to leave you by yourself," he told her with a smirk.
She scowled at his unflattering comparison
Reining in her laughter, she gave him a serious look as she prepared to confront what else she had subjected him to last night.
"I'm also sorry for my other behaviour," she said slowly, glancing briefly towards the family room as her cheeks flushed red.
Klaus seemed to understand what she was referring to.
"It was inappropriate. I didn't mean..." she began to stammer anxiously. "I shouldn't...I was drunk."
She cringed, not intending what she said to sound as it did.
"That sounds awful. I just mean..."
"You were drunk," he reaffirmed knowingly.
She nodded hesitant to ask the next question she had on her mind in lieu of her fragmented memories.
"Nothing happened between...us, right?" she confirmed.
Klaus's expression seemed to drop, but not from disappointment.
"I'm more offended by what that implies about me as a person than what you being drunk implies about my attractiveness," he said, laughing slightly to ease the tension between them, even though it was clear he was annoyed by her question.
"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I don't remember everything...I just wanted to make sure."
"Nothing happened," he affirmed. "I helped you to bed and that was it," he clarified.
She still felt like there was something he wasn't telling her. No, she didn't think he would take advantage of her, but something told her he wasn't giving her the complete story.
"You know I would never hurt you...like that," he said, his tone more serious now.
He was serious up until regret filled the tone of that dreadful qualifier, because he had hurt her in other ways, and it seemed to be something he had been made keenly aware of at some point.
She nodded as he hung his head.
"Thank you," she murmured, "for taking care of me last night."
Klaus nodded back, ushering them into an uncomfortable silence.
Glancing towards the dining table and around the rest of the kitchen, the half eaten breakfast and dirty dishes occupied her attention.
"I'm also sorry for ruining breakfast," she said. "It was good."
"While it stayed down," Klaus joked.
She smiled with relief as his sense of humour seemed to return. While she often bore the brunt of his jokes, she realized how uncomfortable and concerned she felt when his humour was absent.
"While it stayed down, yes," she agreed with a laugh, picking up a few wayward dishes with the hand that wasn't presently holding Grayson.
Klaus took the frying pan out of her hand.
"I got it," he claimed, setting the pan back down on the counter
"The cook never cleans," she protested, handing Grayson over to him.
"I'll take care of it," he argued. "You should go lie down and try and sleep off that hangover some more," he encouraged her. "I don't think seeing remnants of breakfast floating in the sink as you do dishes will help your stomach any," he chuckled.
Her stomach lurched at the thought as she felt her gag reflex twitch.
"You're probably right," she concluded. "What about Grayson?" she wondered.
"Don't worry about him. I take care of him alone three days a week; I think I can handle him for a few hours, love," he explained.
"I know, you've just been with him all week. You could probably use a break," she pointed out.
"Gray and I are best buds, aren't we?" Klaus said, looking down at Grayson whose smile seemed to agree with him. "It's fine. I don't mind."
She spent the rest of the day in bed, though her unsettled mind and stomach prevented her from attaining much sleep.
After sending apology texts to both Camille and Meredith - along with an additional thank you to Camille for overseeing the store today - she climbed back out of bed for the second time that day and decided to return to the land of the living.
This time, she didn't even bother getting dressed again; she remained in the grey shorts and purple tank top she had thrown on in preparation for her nap earlier. Since her hair was a mess, she put in the effort to throw it up in a ponytail, but that was the extent of her effort.
The skies were no longer bright as they were when she woke in the morning. At some point it had started to rain. She supposed it was to be expected given that it was spring.
She had returned downstairs to relieve Klaus of his duties, and she took over with Grayson.
Klaus retreated upstairs, mentioning that it was his turn to take a nap.
Luckily for her and her lingering headache, Grayson was in a quiet mood all afternoon. She read to him and attempted to play a game of tag given his newfound ability to crawl after her.
They would really have to go out shopping for baby gates to equip the stairs with before Grayson decided to start getting too adventurous.
Even though Klaus had let Grayson sleep late this morning, he took his afternoon nap at the usual time without protest.
Her hangover was desperate to have her curl up on the couch with a blanket, but she persevered and managed to do some laundry and tidy up quietly around the house before Grayson verbally decided his nap was over.
Klaus was awake too in his room, but she opted not to disturb him. His door was closed and that usually meant he was preoccupied by his art...or...no, she wouldn't even let the other alternative cross her perverted mind.
She hadn't felt like cooking that night, despite the angry growls of her empty stomach, so she ordered in Chinese upon determining she had a weird hangover craving for it.
She had offered for Klaus to join her, but he declined, apparently too involved in whatever he was working on. She understood that kind of inspiration. She had walled herself up in her office or her apartment for hours working on sketches or putting a dress together.
That said, she couldn't help but wonder if Klaus was ignoring her given their slightly awkward exchange earlier in the day.
There was a break in the rain just as she was about to take Grayson upstairs for a bath before bed. That's when Klaus emerged from his room dressed in a long sleeve grey shirt and black track pants. He darted past her on the stairwell, announcing that he was going out for a run before it inevitably started to rain again.
She should have stuck to her routine and gone out for a run that morning, but there was no way in hell that would have happened. By the end of the block she was convinced she would have been puking on the sidewalk.
Once Grayson was bathed and dressed in a fresh diaper and his baby blue sleeper decorated with puppies, she brought him back downstairs for a bottle.
With his bottle prepared, she snuggled up with him in a warm knitted blanket Elena's grandmother had made on the couch in the family room.
She hoped the warmth of both the milk and the blanket, along with the glow of the television would lull Grayson to sleep.
"What do you want to watch, Grayson?" she asked him passively as she began surfing through the channel guide for something to watch.
They didn't make a habit of relying on the television to entertain Grayson - he usually preferred his toys even when the television was on in the room anyways - but this is usually how he finished his last bottle of the night with them before bed.
Grayson mumbled, his voice impeded by the bottle he had firmly attached to his mouth.
She laughed when she came across Magic Mike, recalling the time she and Elena had went to the theatres to see it much to Elijah's disdain.
"I don't think Elena would appreciate you watching that," she chuckled jokingly, knowing Grayson, a seven month old, wouldn't remember a thing.
She attempted to select a few other options, but Grayson seemed to get fussy every time she settled on something.
It seemed he preferred to watch her scan through the guide.
Not wanting to exacerbate her fading but persistent headache, she acquiesced to his peculiar demand.
"Monkey, my hand is getting tired," she complained after a few more minutes had passed.
Eventually, she resorted to watching Knocked Up on the small screen in the corner, hoping Grayson wouldn't realize she had stopped scanning the channels, and perhaps forget about his preference for the guide once the screen returned the default movie she had selected.
Before her plan could be tested, the back door opened and Klaus came barging inside, effectively distracting both her and Grayson.
She peered over the back of the sofa and noticed Klaus's damp hair and shirt as he kicked off his wet running shoes.
"I didn't even hear it start to rain again," she realized, trying to focus on the noise outside.
As if timed, the rain started to fall harder and she could hear the drops hitting the windows.
"It's a good thing I decided to sprint home," Klaus said, looking out the window as he attempted to catch his breath.
"How was your run otherwise?" she asked politely, watching him retrieve a glass of water in the kitchen.
"It was good. I went a different way this time, down by Stefan and Meredith's. It's mild out; It's starting to feel more like spring," he commented before taking a generous drink from his glass.
She looked away when he began to approach, realizing she had been admiring too closely the damp curls of his hair and the moist skin of his neck as he drank his water.
"Do you normally watch the guide?" Klaus smirked, nodding towards the television screen.
She laughed anxiously and shook her head.
"No," she replied, "but Grayson does apparently. It's the strangest thing; every time I go to select something to watch he gets fussy until I return to this screen," she explained. "I'm hoping your return distracted him, so I can watch something without squinting my eyes."
Klaus grinned and peered over the couch.
"Well it looks like he's almost finished that bottle," he observed.
"Yeah, he polished it off like a champ. I think he's on another growth spurt," she concluded, as Grayson leaned against her, bottle in hand, and eyes trained on Klaus.
"Great, that means more formula to buy," Klaus snorted, reaching over to tickle Grayson's tummy.
Grayson giggled nestling himself even closer to her.
"Sucking up to Caroline isn't going to save you," Klaus laughed, tickling him again, making Grayson more excitable.
"So much for settling him down before bed," she sighed with a smirk.
"Sorry," Klaus smiled innocently, pulling back. "I don't think he'll give you much trouble, he seems pretty content next to you on the couch with that bottle and blanket."
She looked down at Grayson and nodded in agreement.
"I'm gonna go grab a shower, let me know when you're putting him to bed," he requested.
"Okay," she answered, looking up to see Klaus removing his shirt and tossing it into the empty laundry basket she had forgotten about in the kitchen.
Her breath got stuck in her throat as she allowed herself to indulge in the sight of his bare torso, admiring the way the sweat and rain glistened on his arms and chest, his tattoo, and the indents of his hips that guided her eyes down below his abdomen.
By the time she realized how blatantly her eyes had just objectified him, he had already disappeared upstairs.
She blinked a few times and exhaled, turning back towards the television, praying that he hadn't noticed her. She cringed at the thought and scolded herself for her shameless gawking.
"I'm so pathetic," she said to Grayson. "A pathetic idiot who needs to get laid," she sighed, desperately attempting to pin her lingering stares to her involuntary abstinence.
Grayson looked up at her curiously and she couldn't help but laugh as she reflected up on what she had just told him.
A half hour later Grayson seemed more awake than he had been when she first brought him downstairs from his bath.
"You're supposed to be asleep by now," she complained to Grayson who had begun to fidget. "Maybe it's that long nap Klaus let you have this morning," she considered, ultimately deciding to take Grayson upstairs and put him in his crib anyways in hopes he might change his mind.
He didn't cry when she picked him up as she might have expected, but he was antsy, more so than when he had been on the couch, squirming in an effort to be free from her hold.
When she reached the top stair, she noticed Klaus's bedroom door was ajar, the light was on, and low music was playing. She started for his room, but hesitated, wondering if perhaps he was still indecent from the shower...or maybe he didn't want to be disturbed because he was painting. It was probably the latter. She cursed her mind from automatically jumping to the former thought.
He'd been out of the shower almost twenty minutes – not that she had been listening – surely he was dressed. He wouldn't have left the door open if he wasn't. He told her to inform him when she was putting Grayson to sleep.
With Grayson pushing his tiny little hands and feet against her with all his might, she got an idea.
"Do you want to get down that badly?" she asked Grayson with a smirk, setting him down on the hall floor a safe distance away from the stairwell in the direction of Klaus's bedroom.
Sure enough, this seemed to appease Grayson and with little encouragement, he was crawling towards Klaus's door.
She followed behind attentively, smiling with amusement as Grayson stopped to contemplate the partially open door.
He whined a little in frustration, and deciding to help him along, she pushed the door open a little further so they could both enter.
Klaus was behind his easel – dressed thankfully in a plain white t-shirt and jeans – eyes and brush trained expertly on the canvas from what she could see. Judging by his expression he looked completely immersed in whatever he was painting. It was endearing to see him like this. She had never really seen him paint before. He seemed like he was in his element, so much so that she almost felt guilty for letting Grayson interrupt him; she hated being disturbed when she was immersed in her work. There was no going back now though, however, as Grayson crawled into the room. She followed.
His concentration and the music had effectively enabled them to enter unnoticed.
She never came in this room. It was sort of an unspoken convention they had established between themselves, not to enter each other's rooms. It's not like she'd have a reason to besides to clean. His room definitely needed to be cleaned, she thought, noting his clothes and art supplies strewn about while recalling yesterday's visit from CPS.
"Grayson? What the...?" Klaus started in confusion from behind his easel as he looked down at Grayson.
He rushed to wipe his hands clean of paint in order to tend to Grayson.
She couldn't help but laugh at the disoriented look on his face as he knelt down to Grayson's level.
He noticed her then in the doorway and his panicked posture appeared to relax.
"Grayson wanted to let you know that he is going to bed now. I think he wanted to say goodnight," she smiled. "I hope we're not interrupting," she added.
Klaus shook his head, waiting his hands towards him to get Grayson to come closer.
"Not at all," he answered. "I was just confused as to how the hell he got up here, until I saw you standing there," he chuckled.
"Your expression was pretty priceless," she mused.
"Come on just a little further," Klaus urged, swooping Grayson up in his arms enthusiastically once he reached him. "Good job, Gray," he said encouragingly.
Things had definitely changed over a few months, she thought, listening to Klaus praise Grayson as he hugged him affectionately. She wondered what Elena and Elijah – especially Elijah – would think of this Klaus now. Maybe it wouldn't be a surprise to Elijah at all. He had grown up with Klaus, he knew him better than anyone it seemed; he probably knew this sensitive side of him was under the surface somewhere, or he wouldn't have named Klaus in the will alongside her in the first place.
"I can't believe he's crawling," Klaus observed, almost proudly.
She nodded happily.
"He's growing up," she shrugged.
"Pretty soon he'll be able to get up here all by himself," he concluded.
"Which is why we need to go out and get some baby gates before we lose sight of him again and the little monkey decides he wants to try out the stairs," she laughed.
"Or before CPS declares this house an unsafe living environment and deems us unfit parents," he snickered.
Parents, she thought to herself. The word in reference to her still made her pause in reflection. They were Grayson's parents.
"I'm already unfit for letting him stay up this late," she joked. "He should have been asleep an hour ago."
"That's probably my fault," Klaus acknowledged. "I got caught up reading Elijah's journals and time sort of got away on me," he admitted.
"You read them?" she asked curiously, surprised he had finally decided to open them up after the internal debate he was having with himself over reading them.
He nodded.
"Just a couple entries," he told her.
"That's good," she said, deciding not to press him for the details.
If he wanted to talk to her about them, he would.
"Well, I better get him to bed," she said, looking at Grayson, changing the topic quickly to avoid any awkward silences.
"Looks like the fun is over, Gray," Klaus sighed. "Goodnight little man."
She had to bite back her smile as Klaus gave Grayson's head a discreet kiss before handing him over to her.
"Before you know it, he'll be replying too," she said. "Won't you?" she asked Grayson who seemed suddenly agitated, as if he knew where she was taking him.
"Don't wish for that to happen too soon, love," Klaus mused as he resumed his position behind the easel. "I doubt he'll always say what we want to hear."
She laughed in agreement.
"Are you going out tonight?" she found herself asking him, perplexed by the fact that he wasn't already gone or at least getting ready.
He shrugged.
"Nah, I think I'm going to stay in tonight and paint some more," he decided.
"You, Klaus Mikaelson, are going to stay in on your free night?" she inquired. "That's unusual."
"I'm not really interested. The Grill is the only decent bar in town and I'm not interested in running into Vicki, nor Damon, and Stefan and Meredith have date night tonight," he groaned, rolling his eyes.
She felt a strange sense of satisfaction at Klaus's expressed disinterest in Vicki.
"Besides, I'm not sure the bar would have anything left to drink after you had your way with it last night," he grinned.
She scowled.
"Ha ha, you're hilarious," she muttered sarcastically as Grayson began to fuss and tug at her shirt.
She switched Grayson to her other hip as he nearly pulled the front of her tank top down.
"Grayson, no," she chastised him under her breath.
Klaus was staring at her in amusement.
"You're free to attempt round two if you'd like," he offered.
She shook her head.
"I won't be making an appearance at the Grill anytime soon," she assured him. "Once I get this little guy to bed, there's a couch and a bottle of red wine with my name on it."
"Hair of the dog?" Klaus laughed.
"Something like that," she smirked, "it's a last resort, nothing else seems to be working."
Klaus nodded knowingly.
"Goodnight," she said to him.
"Good luck," he replied.
She sat on the couch wrapped in the blanket nursing a glass of wine as tears rolled down her cheeks.
Watching this had clearly been a mistake. She shouldn't have put the DVD in, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She thought she could handle it now. Maybe it was her hangover, or perhaps it was close to that time of the month yet again and that's why she was such an emotional basket case.
After she finally got Grayson to go to sleep she returned downstairs, retrieving the bottle of cab sauv from the basement she had her eye on before setting up camp on the sofa.
Originally, she had planned to watch another movie, but the DVD case Grayson had been chewing on the day before caught her eye.
It was Elijah and Elena's wedding video.
She had never gotten a chance to watch it with Elena as they had planned when she got the copies in from the videographer.
For some reason, she thought now would be a good time to relive the past and reminisce over happier times. She genuinely believed she could watch the footage now without becoming an emotional wreck. Curiosity killed the cat, apparently.
As comforting as it was to hear Elena's voice, to see her so excited, and to know that her excitement not only had to do with Elijah, but also the mini-Grayson she was carrying, it was heartbreaking at the same time and only seemed to be opening wounds that had slowly begun to heal for her.
She considered turning it off, but she felt like it was something she needed to get through. She wanted to be able to watch this someday with Grayson and not be a blubbering mess. She wanted to be able to smile.
She dried her eyes determinedly and took a sip from her glass, hoping that would choke back the urge to cry as Elijah and Elena began to recite their vows.
That's when she heard Klaus descend the stairs.
"Caroline, is there any Chinese food left ov..." he started to ask as he entered the kitchen behind her, pausing when he noticed what she was watching and her watery eyes.
She paused the video quickly and wiped her eyes some more as she tried to regain her composure. She hadn't expected him to come downstairs for the remainder of the night once he started painting.
Klaus looked between her, the tissues, the glass of wine and the bottle on the coffee table in front of her.
"Are you alright?" he asked skeptically, walking around the couch, picking up the bottle of wine, inspecting the contents clearly to gauge how much she had drank.
She laughed shakily, forcing back some more tears.
"Don't worry, this is my first glass," she assured him.
His eyes darted up from the bottle, passing over the DVD case before looking her over.
"I'm fine," she asserted, hoping he didn't press the issue.
He lifted up the bottle again.
"Mind if I help myself to a glass?" he asked.
She shrugged permissively.
He left to go retrieve himself a wine glass.
"My brush has barely touched the canvas. A little alcohol usually gets the creative juices flowing," he commented, returning to the sofa.
He poured himself a glass and poured her another.
She noticed him glance at the DVD case once more
"It was sitting out and I decided to watch it for old times' sake. Maybe I shouldn't have," she sighed, "but I wanted to, you know? I wanted to see them."
He nodded sympathetically and sat down beside her.
She clutched the blanket around her tighter.
"I know," he responded, as though he knew exactly what she meant. "That's why I decided to read some of Elijah's journal entries," he admitted.
They both fell silent. She wanted to ask Klaus what he read, but she didn't want to overstep or seem too nosey. She supposed he felt the same.
"It's almost like he was right there talking to me. I could hear his voice plain as day as I read them," Klaus continued.
She remained quiet, giving him the space to continue if he wanted to.
"It was bittersweet," he said.
"Did they answer your questions?" she asked him.
He glanced over at her confused.
"When you were first debating about reading them you said you hoped his journals could answer your questions," she reminded him.
He shrugged, and she knew she wasn't going to get a straight answer. Whatever questions Klaus had for his brother, they were personal questions he didn't feel comfortable sharing.
"Well I found out the real reason why Elijah bailed on my birthday three years ago," he laughed to himself.
"Why?" she asked, her eyebrows rising curiously.
"He was supposed to come to New York and spend the weekend with me. He cancelled at the last minute saying he had a mandatory medical conference to go to in Boston," he informed her.
Her eyes lit up in amusement as she knew exactly the medical conference he was referring to.
"That was the conference Elena asked Elijah to go to!" she beamed. "I encouraged her to ask him. They had been dancing around their feelings for one another for awhile then, Elena thought the trip would give them a chance to confront one another," she recalled.
Klaus's eyes widened a little as he inhaled.
"They definitely confronted one another," he laughed.
She nearly spit out the sip of wine she took with her own laughter.
"Elijah didn't write anything too graphic? Did he?" she winced, wondering if that's why Klaus seemed so traumatized.
"No, thankfully, but it was very strongly implied," he mused. "Was the hotel room idea yours?" he queried.
Now it was her turn to act confused.
"What hotel room idea?" she questioned.
"Elijah mentioned that when they first got to Boston, Elena lied about all the rooms being booked for the conference so that he would have to share her room since he decided to go last minute." Klaus revealed.
Her jaw dropped and she gasped in surprise.
"Oh my god! Elena never told me that. What a slut!" she joked. "She told me they slept together, but she never told me that part of the story!" she exclaimed in disbelief. "I can't believe she didn't tell me that," she said, offended and amused at the same time.
Klaus was grinning at her with equal amusement on his face.
He shrugged.
"So Elena lied to you about being...a slut? And Elijah made me think he was going to Boston for an important medical conference, when really he was just going to get laid," he said seriously before the both erupted into laughter again.
"They were inseparable after that weekend," she sighed reminiscing about Elena's excitement during that time. "Elena hadn't been that happy since before her parents and Jeremy died."
"I don't think Elijah had been that happy since we were kids," Klaus conceded surprisingly.
She gave him a sympathetic look, knowing there was more behind that story than he seemed willing to tell in that moment.
"In hindsight, I guess it's not a shock they were engaged by Christmas," she mused.
"I told Elijah he was making a mistake, that he shouldn't do it," Klaus snorted, sounding a little guilty.
"It almost didn't happen," she blurted out, regretting her revelation immediately.
Klaus looked at her curiously.
"I knew Elijah was going to propose to Elena on Christmas Day; I even helped him pick out the ring. Then my mother died a week before and everyone seemed to lose their Christmas cheer," she frowned. "Elijah was going to wait to propose because he didn't want to be insensitive. I told him to go ahead and do it. It was probably selfish of me, but seeing them happy took my mind off my mom," she acknowledged. "I used to love spending Christmas with my mom; it was my favourite holiday," she explained. "I hated Christmas after that year, but spending it with Elijah and Elena – and Grayson last year made it bearable."
Tears glazed her eyes as she realized that she'd be without Elijah and Elena, and quite possibly Grayson this Christmas, if the courts didn't grant her and Klaus permanent custody.
"I don't know what I'm going to do this year without them," she considered aloud, avoiding looking in Klaus's direction. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I don't even know why I'm talking about this. We're supposed to be laughing about Elijah and Elena lying to us," she chucked despite a fresh tear that escaped her eye.
"You don't have anything to apologize for," Klaus offered. "Talk about whatever you want."
She shrugged and brought a tissue to her face to catch the stray tear.
"They were the only family I had left...and if Grayson..." she began.
"Don't," Klaus said stopping her before she could continue. "We weren't going to be pessimistic, remember?" he urged her.
She looked at him with uncertainty, nodding passively before turning away seemingly unconvinced.
"Caroline, look at me," he demanded.
She felt his hand brush over her fist that was clenched around the tissue.
Looking down at his hand over hers, she let her eyes wander up to meet his.
"You won't be alone on Christmas. You have family. You have Bonnie, Kol and Rebekah even, Grayson...me," he reassured her. "We'll all be there."
His words took her aback for a moment. She hadn't expected that kind of compassion from him. She hadn't expected she would feel so comforted by them.
At the same time, she couldn't help but feel like he was implying something more. Maybe he wasn't. Maybe she was only hearing what she wanted to hear.
"Thanks," she said, pulling her hand out from underneath his.
"I was never much of a fan of Christmas either," Klaus admitted. "Neither was Elijah, really. His journals reminded me of that."
She glanced at him, silently attempting to encourage him to continue, eager for him to open up, but just as eager to take the focus off of her.
"Christmas was always a show for my parents. Our house was always decorated and we always had the best gifts to show off to our friends, but if walls could talk," he muttered, glancing around the room distractedly. "My mother was usually drunk before noon, and it wasn't uncommon for my father to be absent entirely. He always said it was business, but once we got older we came to realize that business meant young women with closed mouths and open legs. Christmas was probably better when he wasn't there, to be honest. When he wasn't shouting at my mother, he was taking his anger out on us kids...me mostly," he revealed. "Then he'd go back to Washington and my mother would dull her pain with liquor and by placing the blame on us."
Mikael as an abusive father and seemingly an abusive husband wasn't a difficult conclusion to reach. He still was, and Elena had alluded to as much, but it was still difficult to swallow hearing it come from Klaus – someone directly impacted by it.
"That was something else I never understood until I was older. He was always harder on me because I wasn't really his son," he confessed. "Both he and my mother resented me for it; they still do."
She nodded, recalling Mikael's revelation at Elijah and Elena's rehearsal dinner.
"How did you find out?" she wondered.
"He told me," Klaus answered bluntly. "I came home one night from a party out by the falls. I tried to sneak in because I'd been drinking. I didn't know my father arrived home that night. He caught me. He'd been drinking too. We fought. When I was getting to him, he got desperate, pulled the bastard card, and told me what an embarrassment I was to him. I didn't believe it at first, but it wasn't hard to put the pieces together. He was in Washington full-time when my mother conceived me and even after I was born. There are no photos of him with me when I was a child. He never signed my birth certificate. He barely visited – even after my mother made a desperate attempt to reconcile with him and Kol was born. It wasn't until Rebekah came along that he attempted to make an effort. When he moved us to America, he was like a stranger to us, though to everyone on the outside, we were a happy family," he explained. "We thought things would get better with Henrik's arrival, but eventually they just got worse."
She sat there speechless, unsure of what to say. The story was upsetting, but what affected her more was the indifferent way Klaus was able to retell it as though it was somebody else's life.
She felt guilty for being upset about her own life. Her father had never been abusive to her – at least for the time he was present in her life, and she had had the best mother any child could hope for – until she lost her. She had never been through what Klaus had been through.
Klaus's emotional disconnectedness made more sense to her now.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," she said honestly.
"Like I said sweetheart, you don't have anything to be sorry for. Sure, it was terrible, but Elijah and I decided a long time ago to move on. It's hard to put aside the resentment but why waste our time on two people who barely gave us any of theirs?" he said.
She accepted his reasoning, though she could tell deep down that Klaus had been profoundly impacted by his experiences growing up.
"I made that promise to you about Grayson for a reason," Klaus reminded her. "My parents will never take Grayson from us. I refuse to let Grayson have the childhood my siblings and I had. Elijah and Elena didn't want that either."
The determination in his voice was inspiring and she found a renewed sense of hope in his confidence.
"Then we should probably start prepping now for our next unannounced visit from the Gestapo arm of Child Protective Services," she said, trying to inject some much needed humour into their conversation.
Klaus laughed slightly and nodded in agreement.
"How do you propose we do that?" he asked her.
"Baby gates and other safety measures for Grayson now that he's crawling are a must," she suggested, looking around the room as she pondered.
Photographs of Elijah and Elena at the Gilbert family lake house grabbed her attention and reminded her of what the CPS caseworkers had inquired about and mentioned.
She sighed, reluctant to make the next suggestion knowing how hard it would inevitably be on her, and perhaps Klaus.
"We need to deal with Elijah and Elena's estate. We need to start sorting through their things – packing up what we're to keep for Grayson and...getting rid of minor personal effects," she said reluctantly.
Klaus's eyes also began to wander around the family room. She could tell he was taking a tally. This room alone was filled with Elijah and Elena's personal items that they had avoided going through. The thought seemed to disturb Klaus.
It disturbed her just as much. The thought of having to go through Elena's things, determining what to pack, and what to give away was unsettling.
Sure, during the time she had lived here, she resented the museum like nature the house took on as keeper of Elijah and Elena's lives, but at the same time it was comforting.
She glanced back at the photo she had been focusing on earlier.
"I mean, I know we haven't firmly decided what we're going to do with this house, but we haven't even considered the lake house," she mentioned. "We need to make these decisions before you...leave," she said as though just realizing for the first time that Klaus would be returning to New York. She didn't even want to get on the subject matter of how they would share Grayson then. "We should at least try to show CPS that we're taking initiative," she pointed out.
Klaus seemingly took note of the photograph she was looking at.
"What do you think we should do with the lake house?" he asked her. "What would Elena have wanted?" Klaus clarified, referencing the fact that the lake house property had belonged to Elena's family.
She smiled, suddenly caught up in a memory of last summer when she, Elena, and Bonnie took a trip to the lake house for a girls' weekend.
"Elena was excited about Grayson spending his summers there like she and Jeremy did when they were young. She wanted Grayson to have those memories too," she frowned. "But that desire was obviously under different circumstances."
Klaus nodded solemnly.
"Elena's uncle and aunt have the right of first refusal if we sold, but whether we sold to them or someone else, we could use the money for Grayson's college fund," she suggested, still not entirely convinced by the idea
An incredulous scoff escaped Klaus's lips.
"College?" Klaus mused.
She glared at him.
"Yes college?" she repeated.
"That's a long way off, love," he chuckled.
"Eighteen years," she specified. "Do you know how much college is going to cost in eighteen years?" she asked critically, in an effort to get him on the same page as her.
Klaus shrugged.
"Elena and Elijah's estate looks after Grayson quite nicely; I've seen the numbers. I don't think we have to worry too much about his college fund," he mused.
She rolled her eyes.
"The choices we make now will affect his future," she reminded him.
Klaus smirked into his glass of wine.
"What?" she demanded.
"You'll have CPS eating out of the palm of your hand next time if you keep talking like that," Klaus teased.
"I'm being serious!" she lamented with an annoyed smile. "Everything we do now will impact Grayson later. Did you know that kids who go to Harmony Hall Preschool are five percent more likely to get into an Ivy League college compared to kids who go to Kinder Academy?" she questioned him.
She had spent the other day at work researching the topic after her creative ambition left her.
Klaus erupted into laughter.
"'Harmony Hall'? 'Kinder Academy'? Those sound a bit cult-like to me," he joked. "Grayson is barely seven months old."
"Both schools recommend submitting applications and conducting interviews early since they have a wait list," she informed him.
Klaus rolled his eyes.
"Applications and interviews, and a waitlist for a damn preschool? It sounds pretentious...and expensive," he groaned. "Maybe we should let Grayson enjoy his childhood instead of sentencing him to preschool penitentiary," he proposed humorously.
As seriously as she took Grayson's education, she couldn't help but laugh at his comment as the image of a tiny Grayson in an orange jumpsuit crossed her mind.
"Preschool is just something to think about," she urged, trying to get them back on topic.
"What we need to think about right now is locking up cupboards, covering electrical outlets, blocking stairs, and buying Grayson some bigger clothes," Klaus suggested.
"I can do shopping," she conceded.
"And I can take care of Grayson while you do the shopping," he proposed, clearly not interested in one of her favourite therapeutic pastimes.
"Okay," she agreed.
She leaned back on the sofa, drinking some more of her wine, pleased that they could find some common ground.
"We could rent the lake house?" Klaus thought aloud.
She gave him an intrigued look, encouraging him to elaborate.
"It's in a desirable location and real estate is expensive; there are lots of families who can't afford to actually own property there. If we could rent it out – especially in the summer – I'm sure it wouldn't hurt Grayson's college fund," he said. "We could set aside a week or two for Grayson. Perhaps that way we could still honour Elena's wishes," he pointed out. "Then, when Grayson gets older and either loses interest or decides it's a great place to bring girls, we can sell it," he laughed.
She rolled her eyes.
"Shouldn't you be encouraging him in that pursuit?" she arched a curious eyebrow.
"I've been a male teenager, sweetheart, we're stupid and we only think with one part of our body," he reminded her.
"Isn't that all men regardless of age?" she retorted with a mischievous smile.
Klaus feigned offence as he laughed.
"We still think with our penis, but we just try to be a little smarter about it," he clarified.
"Vicki Donovan must have been an exception?" she mused teasingly.
He glared at her, a small smirk playing on his lips at her retort.
"I'm here to look out for Grayson and his trust until he's twenty-five, and somehow I don't think encouraging him to knock up a girl before then is conducive to that end."
She smiled, both amused and comforted by Klaus's unorthodox but responsible outlook.
"I really like your idea, for the lake house," she admitted. "Renting it out would be a good way to fulfill Elena's wishes and look out for Grayson's best interest financially," she acknowledged.
"It's worth a try," Klaus shrugged. "If it doesn't work out, then we can sell."
She nodded in agreement, surprised by how effortless making decisions was becoming with him.
"What else should we do to prepare for the next visit from the so-called 'CPS Gestapo'?" Klaus wondered.
Biting her lip, she scanned the room for any ideas. Her eyes stopped on the kitchen floor where they had painted with Grayson.
"Maybe we should avoid painting again?" she recommended. "Or anything messy, in general."
Klaus groaned unpleasantly before releasing a small laugh.
"I can't speak for Grayson, but I won't be doing any painting so long as my inspiration is shot," he sighed.
"I hate when that happens," she empathized.
She could relate to his artistic troubles. She hated when fresh ideas for new designs would escape her. It was discouraging.
"The ideas just aren't coming?" she questioned.
"The ideas are there. I just can't paint what I want to paint," he said cryptically, making eye contact with her.
"Oh," she said a little confused by what he meant.
She looked away and Klaus leapt off of the couch, startling her.
"Actually, I drew something for you when I was about ready to toss my canvas out the window," he revealed, grabbing his sketchbook she hadn't noticed on the dining table.
"You drew something for me?" she asked suspiciously.
"You asked me to, remember?" he said vaguely, returning to the sofa as he pulled out a loose sheet of paper.
He handed her the paper.
Turning it over, she gasped in surprise.
On the other side of the paper there was a beautifully drawn black and white curling vine of lilies and roses.
"Bonnie might have told me that your mother's favourite flowers were lilies," Klaus revealed.
She ran her hand over the lilies and nodded appreciatively.
"And Elena's favourite were roses," she noted, smiling hard in an attempt not to cry.
"Do you like it?" Klaus asked hesitantly.
She looked up from the paper.
"I love it. It's beautiful," she affirmed excitedly, amazed by his talent. "I didn't think you would actually draw it for me," she admitted. "This is exactly what I had in mind."
He smiled.
"Obviously you can choose to incorporate the colours you want when you actually get the tattoo, but this gives you an idea," he pointed out.
She gave him a wary glance.
"Having second thoughts about the tattoo already?" he smirked. "I told you it doesn't hurt that bad."
"It's not that," she assured him, holding out the paper to inspect the drawing carefully. "I'm just nervous about committing to a permanent tattoo without knowing how it's going to look on me first. I hate online shopping for that very reason – and clothes and shoes you can return. You can't do that with a tattoo," she laughed, as she tried to imagine how the tattoo might look on her skin.
Klaus shook his head incredulously.
"I'm serious," she lamented. "I don't like uncertainty."
"Well if you want the tattoo, you'll just have to take a chance, won't you sweetheart?" Klaus said.
"Maybe you could draw it on me first?" she proposed without thinking.
So, what did you think about all the klaroline bonding? There is plenty more to come in the next chapter. Stay tuned!
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