A/N: Hey there! Happy Holidays to all you amazing readers and reviewers! I apologize for the delay. It's been such a hectic month or so. I want to thank you for your continued patience, interest, and support, it means so much to me. You don't know how happy a random review, a PM, or a message on tumblr (if you would like to follow me, search 'idiot—wind tumblr' on google my blog should be the first result) makes me after I've been having a bad/stressful day. It's so encouraging to know that so many if you are willing to stick with this story despite my infrequent updating!
My beta, livingdeadblondegirl, has been great with this chapter. It would definitely not be what it is without her input. I was kind of stuck on it for a while.
Without further adieu...
He felt something shift beside him. At first believing it to be the remnants of a dream, he sighed contentedly, keeping his eyes closed, hoping to return to sleep. It felt unbelievably early.
Stretching, he was startled by the feeling of the floor underneath his feet and the realization he was sitting rather than lying down, and he wasn't in his bed, he was on the sofa downstairs in the family room.
The light of the room nearly blinded him as he opened his eyes bewilderedly.
Sitting up straight, his scanned the room quickly.
The television was still on, displaying the DVD menu.
That was enough to jog his sleepy memory.
Recalling the movement he felt, he looked down beside him to see the knitted blanket Caroline had covered herself in last night lying in a pile.
Shifting over, the couch still felt warm, and he peered over the back of it into the kitchen to see if she was there. She wasn't.
He tried to think about the last thing he remembered from last night.
He remembered Caroline cringing over the garter scene in the wedding video. They teased each other about it.
She had leaned against him, at first to shield her face from the images on screen, but she stayed like that even once it was over.
He didn't say anything. He hadn't wanted to.
And then he recalled the short sequence of credits.
He had mentioned something about Kol being an ass in the video, and how they should probably go to bed.
When he didn't get a response from Caroline, he repeated her name and nudged her a little.
Still without a response, he had leaned forward to check her facial expression.
She was fast asleep.
For the second time that weekend, she had fallen asleep next to him.
The difference being that this time he had stayed beside her – perhaps not entirely unintentionally – and had fallen asleep himself.
He enjoyed her warmth, and he had allowed himself to indulge a little too long.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he silently cursed himself for letting it happen.
He should have nudged her harder and woke her up last night rather than remaining on the couch, but he couldn't help himself.
It would never be something he would openly admit, but he liked having her beside him like that. He liked that she could fall asleep beside him so effortlessly.
Given all of the events from last night and their conversation, he was sure Caroline was mortified when she woke up this morning – hence her hasty departure.
He just hoped her disappearance was about last night and not the morning wood he could feel stirring between his legs.
Wincing with embarrassment at the thought, he tipped his head back, allowing his neck to crack. After sleeping as he did, his body was unsurprisingly sore.
He leaned back against the sofa with a sigh, debating about running upstairs to his room for more sleep before Grayson decided it was time for everyone to wake up.
That was probably where Caroline took off too.
His first thought was to follow her before he brushed that idea aside.
She may have fallen asleep beside him, but he very much doubted she'd appreciate his presence now.
He didn't even know why his mind had considered it.
Well, he knew why, but the explanation unnerved him.
He wanted to be next to her; he wanted to feel her; he wanted to see her smile and hear her laugh when he said something stupid. It was becoming an addiction of sorts.
A few months ago, he would have never passed up the bar on a Saturday, but last night he had opted to stay in. Going out didn't interest him. He had explained to Caroline that it was because he wanted to avoid Vicki and he wanted to stay in and paint. That was true, but he also wanted spend more time with her.
To his surprise, he had enjoyed last night with her...just being with her, talking to her. There weren't many people he could be open with. Sure, he had Stefan and Marcel, and even Kol to an extent, but it felt different with Caroline. He had never discussed his parents or Henrik in detail with anyone – save for Elijah. He liked that she felt she could do the same with him.
The only person he could really talk to about Elijah was Caroline. She knew what he was going through. It felt good to reminisce about happier times with Elijah and Elena. Caroline understood, and he didn't have to feel guilty for it. She didn't judge him.
And while they were both still out of their element when it came to Grayson, it surprised him how effortlessly they could talk and make decisions about him. It felt good, like they were a team in this together and progress was being made. Initially, he'd expected taking care of Grayson with her would be a nightmare, but now he couldn't imagine doing it without her. He couldn't do it without her. He didn't want to. Perhaps it was this shared connection with Grayson that had created a unique bond between them unlike the ones he shared with Stefan, Kol, Marcel, and even Elijah.
He liked that they could laugh about their past without it being uncomfortable, even if there was a peculiar tension just beneath the surface.
He knew he was playing with fire. They had decided to put the past behind them. All she directly felt for him were drunken desires and regrets. That was it. Those couldn't be relied upon. They were friends, but they would never be anything more. She wouldn't let it now, especially with Grayson to think about. He understood that. If her stance with Tyler was any indication, she was headstrong. She wouldn't make the same mistake twice. He cursed Stefan for suggesting the possibility of a second chance. He cursed himself for even considering it.
But then there were indirect gestures and signs that suggested Caroline might feel otherwise, small subtleties that he couldn't help but notice.
The way her blue eyes flirted with his when she spoke, how flustered she got when she removed her shirt so he could draw on her, the way her skin rose and her breathing hitched when he touched her. She felt something.
He tried not to think about, but it was impossible not to.
The funny thing was is he was sure she had no idea the torture she had put him through last night by asking him to draw her tattoo on her skin. She was oblivious. Luckily for him, he hid his discomfort well. Truth be told, it was all he could do not to touch her any more than was necessary to complete the drawing. She'd looked so sexy, perched on the chair, her back towards him, nearly naked. He thought about running his hands up her spine, followed by his lips. He would kiss her over her shoulder as he pushed her bra straps off her arms. He wondered about the soft noises she'd make if he touched her breasts or dipped a hand into her shorts. He longed to kiss her, to see her writhe against him, to taste her, to feel her body quicken, to hear her sharp cries as he pleased her. He needed it. He craved it. He missed it.
"Good, you're up," her voice said from behind him in the kitchen, startling him.
Indeed, he was. He glanced down at the crotch of his pants, grabbing for the blanket beside him to cover himself as he turned to acknowledge her.
She was too busy fixing her hair into a messy bun to notice his discomfort.
"Yeah, I am," he stammered, forcing himself to think about Grayson's dirty diapers and Caroline heaving into the sink yesterday to cool his mind down.
The fact that she was dressed in a tight pair of black yoga pants and a pink zip up sweater did not help his predicament.
She smiled at him meekly.
"Grayson is still asleep surprisingly, so I think I'm gonna go out for a run," she said, placing her iPod's ear buds in her ears.
"Yeah...sure," he said, still a little bewildered. "It looks nice out," he observed casually, glancing out the window.
It was obvious she was trying to avoid the fact that they had slept together on the couch the night before, but was she avoiding it because she didn't think it was a big deal, or was it the opposite?
"I think spring is here to stay," she said cheerfully. "There's some fruit in the fridge you can mash up for Grayson to eat if he wakes up before I get back," she suggested.
"Okay," he nodded as she headed for the backdoor.
Once the door was closed behind her, he exhaled sharply.
He could already tell that it was going to be a long day.
She thought running would take her mind off of him. She thought the music would help block her incessant thoughts. She thought going for a run would provide an effective distraction for her body. It had the opposite effect.
Her thoughts came on ten times as strong. It gave her time to think, which is exactly what she didn't want to do.
She couldn't believe she had let herself fall asleep next to him last night. It was wrong. It shouldn't have happened.
And every time she would think about it rationally, inevitable irrational thoughts would get the better of her.
Irrational thoughts like how gorgeous he looked asleep, drenched in sunlight, and his curls mussed in the most perfectly imperfect way.
Her body had still been burning from the dream she had and judging by the sizeable bump in his pants she had noticed when she woke up, he had been having sweet dreams as well.
She thought about how she could have been astride him on the sofa right now instead of running down a sidewalk if she had just altered her choices ever so slightly. She would have been sweaty and out of breath for entirely different reasons.
Would he have indulged her?
Her face grew hot – and not just from the run – as she considered it.
What would he have done if she glided her hand over his lap? Would he have stopped her?
She resented all the urges a simple dream and the sight of his sleeping form could stir within her. She wanted to touch him, she wanted to stroke him with her hands and taste him with her mouth. She wanted to please him, to make him moan her name.
Her body quivered, and she shook her head, forcing herself to count all the cars that drove by.
But, inevitably, her mind reverted to counting all the ways she wanted him. She thought about slipping her shorts off while he was still asleep and straddling his hips, tugging his pants down just enough to grind herself against him as he woke. She'd nearly bring herself to orgasm, rocking her hips back and forth as his hands and lips teased her nipples. Just as she was about to explode, she'd draw him inside of her slowly, her walls pulsating around him as she filled herself with him for the first time. She wanted to take him, to have her way with him, to possess him as her own, to show him that Vicki and the women who had come before were nothing.
She also had this insatiable desire for him to do the same, to take her as she knew he could. She imagined leaning over the arm of the sofa, arching her back to entice him as he thrust into her from behind relentlessly until she came panting his name. He'd kiss her skin and her name would roll off his accented tongue, making her come once more as he finished inside of her.
Her cheeks reddened at her lewd imagination.
They reddened further when an older man with walked past her and uttered a 'good morning.'
She wasn't sure if it had been a good morning or not.
When she woke up this morning to find herself beside Klaus – especially after her dream – she had been a little stunned to say the least.
Her first instinct was to hop off the couch immediately, run upstairs and hide in her bedroom hoping he would be none the wiser.
But, she'd gone against her better judgement and stayed, staring at him quietly while he slept.
She had watched him for awhile before she finally pushed herself off the sofa, admiring his features and finding herself longing to kiss him, pondering what things could be like with him, what it would be like to wake up beside him every morning like this.
The thought had made her smile initially until she realized it. Her subconscious reaction scared her.
Those feelings he had made her feel briefly a year ago were coming back stronger.
They were coming back and she felt powerless to stop them; they were relentless.
She didn't want these feelings, she never asked for them.
Things would run more smoothly for everyone if they could just be friends. These kinds of feelings were dangerous complications, especially when they were unrequited.
She just had to get through the next few months. Once Klaus was back in New York, she was sure these feelings she had would fade.
That would be easier said than done, she thought as she rounded the street corner back to the house.
Her mind was still spinning with a lethal combination of confusion and need.
She considered running by and extending her run a little longer but she didn't want Klaus to suspect anything. She would just have to do her best to avoid him today without seeming like she was.
When she entered the kitchen from the back door, she found Grayson in his highchair squishing banana in his hands and Klaus in the middle of a phone call, leaning over Grayson attempting to encourage him to eat his fruit instead of play with it.
"I'll see you in a bit, bye," Klaus said before ending the call.
He set his phone down on the table and Grayson reached out for it.
"Who was that?" she asked curiously, only realizing how nosey she sounded after the fact.
Did she really want to know who he would be seeing?
"It was Stefan," he answered.
She gave a relieved sigh under her breath as she stepped out of her running shoes.
"Oh?" she urged curiously, stuffing her iPod and headphones into her sweater pocket as she headed to grab a glass of water.
"We're gonna head up to the lake house," he informed her. "He got in touch with a real estate agent he knows to come take a look at the property."
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. Sure, they had discussed the topic last night but she hadn't expected Klaus to act so quickly.
"Summer will be here before you know it. I thought it would be good to get an idea of the value so we could decide what to do," he explained, handing Grayson a piece of banana. "Stefan's gonna come get me and then we're gonna head up."
She nodded reluctantly, a little put off by the fact that he seemed to be going ahead on this without her.
He seemed to sense her discomfort.
"It's just a preliminary thing. The agent had an opening this morning. I figured Stefan and I could handle it," he reasoned.
"What about their things?" she asked anxiously, referring to all of the personal effects of Elijah and Elena that the lake house contained.
"Like I said, it's just preliminary. I know you want to be there to go through their things, so we'll go up again to pack everything when you have some free time," he told her, easing her anxiety.
"Okay," she agreed, deciding that this would be a good way to avoid Klaus without actually avoiding him today. "Sounds good."
Klaus nodded.
There was a brief awkward silence between them before Grayson reclaimed Klaus's attention by grabbing another piece of banana from his hand.
"What's the weather like out there?" he asked casually.
She noticed his arm flex as Klaus extended his hand towards Grayson.
"Warm," she replied, swallowing hard.
Cringing at her response, she drank the rest of her water quickly, setting the glass down on the kitchen island a little forcefully.
"I'm sweating. Do you think I have time to run upstairs for a quick shower before Stefan gets here?" she wondered.
"Sure, Stefan shouldn't be here for a while," he said, glancing her over briefly before turning his eyes onto Grayson once more.
"Alright," she said quickly. "I'll be fast," she assured him as she made her escape from the kitchen.
She ran upstairs to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Klaus had been primarily responsible for Grayson all weekend after her drunken episode followed by her hangover yesterday so he deserved to get out of the house. It also allowed her to avoid him. But then it made her wonder if he was also trying to avoid her.
Regardless, she was thankful for brief reprieve.
After ridding the tub of all Grayson's bath time toys and supplies, she stripped herself of her clothes and started the shower.
The water was hot and inviting and she sighed contentedly underneath the spray.
With closed eyes, she let the stream tickle her back as she massaged her shampoo and her conditioner into her scalp.
For a few moments, her mind was actually blank, not really thinking much about anything aside from how great the water felt, that was until she started to apply her body wash and noticed the smudged marker tattoo on her rib cage.
She ran her fingertips over the fading image, instantly triggering the memory of how Klaus's hands felt on her body.
Her eyes fluttered closed, her imagination swapping back and forth between steamy images from her dream of Klaus between her legs, and him so close behind her as he drew on her skin.
She tried to distract herself by standing directly in front of the water's path, but her hands had different intentions.
Before she realized it, one of her hands was cupping the underside of her breast, while the other was drawing persistent circles along her hip.
She stopped her hands' movements briefly, fighting against the tide of growing desire urging her to touch herself.
Her body had been finely tuned all morning since she woke up prematurely from her dream, acutely responsive to every touch and every questionable thought.
After all of these moments with Klaus over the past few days, she had become a tense knot of sexual frustration. And while she might have been stubborn and wise enough not to seek him out directly, she was in desperate need of release.
This is all this was about she reasoned, convincing herself, allowing her hand to close over her breast completely. She let her other hand follow suit.
She murmured in delight as her palms brushed over her ultra-sensitive nipples.
Pinching the pebbles between her fingers as water rained over her hands, she found herself imagining that Klaus had joined her in the shower, that he was standing behind her, his firm body pressed up against her back as his fingers teased her nipples and his lips placed hot kisses along her shoulder.
She knew she didn't have a lot of time, but she also knew that her body didn't need it, not after how wound up she already was.
Trailing a hand down her stomach, she slipped two fingers between her folds.
Despite the shower water, she could tell that part of her body was wet for an entirely different reason.
She ran her fingers over her clit experimentally, working them into the steady and familiar motion she knew with just the right amount of pressure would have her seeing stars in minutes.
Leaning against the tiles, she caressed her breasts and circled her fingers around her swollen clit frantically.
She wanted him to do this to her. She wanted him to touch her like this, to feel his masculine fingers touch her in the most intimate of ways.
Every muscle was tense and her legs were shaking so badly she felt like her knees were about to give out.
She was so close.
Her hand was moving in an eager and indiscernible pattern.
Every time her fingers rolled over her most sensitive spot she was dragged that much closer to the edge.
She imagined once more that it was his hand touching her, stroking her expertly as his mouth whispered naughty words into her ear, urging her to let go.
"Klaus," she panted underneath her breath, one final swirl of her two fingers igniting a tiny explosion within her.
She bit her lip to stifle her moan of delight as her core convulsed rhythmically and consumed her body in the most pleasurable of ways.
Instead of revelling in the intense sense of relaxation she felt, she continued to grind her hips against her fingers, hungry for more.
She was pressed for time, but she didn't care in that moment; she needed a second release.
All she could think about was Klaus's persistent hands taunting her towards another release, his accented tongue begging her to come for him again.
Her persistent fingers moved eagerly.
Not expecting for it to happen so soon, she cried out as her second orgasm came crashing over her in rapid succession, her entire body shaking involuntarily.
She tipped her head back against the tiles, gasping for air through the thick steam of the shower.
In her feverish and lightheaded haze, she touched her lips, feeling the involuntary smile that had formed on them.
Taking a minute to regain her bearings, her eyes widened when she thought she heard someone knocking at the bathroom door.
She turned off the shower, and it was then she heard Klaus's muffled voice on the other side of the door calling for her.
"Just hold on," she lamented, afraid he may have heard her, annoyed that he had interrupted.
After ringing out her hair, she wrapped a towel around her torso and opened the bathroom door.
Klaus was standing there with a frustrated expression, until his eyes seemed to notice the simple towel she was dressed in.
"What?" she asked exasperatedly.
"Uh...I..." he paused as he seemed to notice something unusual about her. "Are you okay? You seem a little out of breath?" he questioned.
She shook her head innocently.
"I'm fine. It's just the steam from the shower," she lied.
"Are you sure?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.
"Klaus, I'm fine!" she said defensively, her cheeks growing redder the more he persisted.
Her reaction only seemed to incriminate her more as a knowing look spread across his features and he began to stammer.
"Stefan is downstairs waiting, the agent had to push up the meeting, so we have to leave now to make it on time," Klaus explained apologetically.
She sighed at the inconvenience but nodded, nonetheless.
"Okay, I'll be down for Grayson in a second," she told him, shutting the door quickly, now thoroughly embarrassed.
"Talk it over with Caroline and let me know. Whether you rent or sell, now is the time. The season is just around the corner," the agent, named Chris, said to him as the three of them exited the lake house.
"Yeah, we'll be in touch," he said politely, still unsure about their final decision would be, at least until he discussed it with Caroline.
He had a feeling she would want to rent, even with the commitment it entailed, at least until Grayson was a bit older. From their conversation last night, he knew she wanted Grayson to spend time here and have memories of it.
While Stefan walked Chris to his Mercedes, he climbed in the passenger seat of Stefan's car and waited.
He looked at the lake house, releasing a discontented sigh.
This had never been a place he had spent any time at. Elijah and Elena had invited him on several occasions, but he always declined due to scheduling conflicts or his own disinterest.
Elijah had never been much for the outdoors, neither had he, but ever since Elijah was with Elena, he had fallen in love with this place. He said it was relaxing. It probably also helped that Elena's cottage had all the modern conveniences of a house – hence why they appropriately called it a lake house.
He had been too busy walking around the property with Stefan and Chris, but he had paid enough attention to notice all the countless personal effects and furniture they would have to sort through and deal with whether they decided to sell or rent.
It was probably better that he was distracted. He didn't like to think about the fact that the last time the house had been occupied it was by Elijah and Elena. He didn't like to think about the fact that all the personal items in the house belonged to them and were exactly the way they had left them the last time they were in the house. He especially didn't like to think about the fact that this is where they were headed to celebrate their wedding anniversary the night that they were killed.
He winced. The actual night of their deaths was not something he often thought much about directly. At least he tried not to. Once he started to think about it his mind would wander involuntarily over all the gruesome details. He didn't know the exact location of the accident – he didn't want to know – but he knew the car had slid and crashed. Elijah was an excellent driver. He knew whatever happened was beyond his control. It pained him to think of Elijah still being alive at the scene with Elena killed instantly. He hated to think what his brother went through in his final moments of consciousness. While Elijah was fighting for his life, he was busy attempting to hook up with some girl.
Stefan opened the driver's side door, pulling him away from the dark thoughts he had been entertaining.
"Elena's grandfather sure knew what he was doing when he decided to build this house in the middle of nowhere," Stefan commented casually, starting the engine.
He nodded in agreement.
"Now the place is prime real estate," Stefan shook his head in amazement. "I think Chris is right, you guys could get more than half a mil for it if you sell."
"Yeah," he replied absently.
"Sorry, I know it had to be tough for you coming up here," Stefan apologized.
He said nothing in response. He didn't want to talk about Elijah or Elena.
"I didn't mean to be insensitive. I just meant that this is good news as far as Grayson's well-being is concerned," Stefan clarified.
"I know," he acknowledged. "Thanks for putting that meeting together."
Stefan nodded as they started down the driveway.
They drove for a while exchanging small talk before Stefan's phone sounded as they neared Mystic Falls. Stefan quickly inspected it before returning it to the console.
"Aren't lawyers supposed to obey the law?" he teased.
Stefan flipped him off.
"Meredith texted me," Stefan informed him. "She said Caroline invited us over for dinner."
He checked his own phone to find a similar message from Caroline that he'd missed from earlier.
"Apparently," he observed suspiciously.
Caroline hadn't mentioned anything about inviting Stefan and Meredith over for dinner before he left the house with Stefan. Moreover, she had expressed her disdain for cooking on countless occasions.
Stefan gave him a curious look.
"I think she's trying to avoid being alone with me," he concluded.
"Why would she be trying to avoid you?" Stefan asked with an arched eyebrow.
He shrugged dismissively, wishing he hadn't even said anything.
"What happened after Meredith and I left Friday night?" Stefan asked with a slight accusatory tone.
He glared at his friend incredulously.
"Nothing," he lied.
"You're a horrible liar Klaus," Stefan groaned.
He stared at the road ahead of them and contemplated whether or not to explain. He supposed he had said too much already. There was no going back now.
"She tried to sleep with me," he admitted.
"Well I don't think that makes you special," Stefan joked. "She tried to have sex with my girlfriend that night too."
He erupted into laughter. Jokes about that would never get old.
"You sound jealous, mate?" he teased.
Stefan rolled his eyes.
"So what did you do?" Stefan asked.
"Well, after she was finished puking her guts up, I put her to bed alone," he said.
"Now you're wondering if her drunken actions are reflective of her sober thoughts," Stefan assumed, skipping over posing it as a question.
He stared out the passenger window, avoiding Stefan's general direction.
"Perhaps it had crossed my mind once or twice," he relented, knowing he wanted Stefan's opinion more than salvaging his pride.
"I wouldn't read too much into it, Klaus. People do things when they're drunk...you know that," Stefan reasoned. "Like I said, Meredith was on the receiving end of Caroline's...affections, as well," he snorted.
"It's not what she did, so much as it was what she said," he told him.
Stefan waited silently, urging him to continue.
"She talked about Elijah and Elena's wedding. She was upset that I left her that night," he sighed. "Do drunk people say things like that when they don't mean them?"
Stefan shrugged.
"What do you think?" Stefan asked.
"I think the only time my parents were ever honest with me was after a few glasses of liquor," he noted.
"You're never going to know how she really feels unless you talk to her," Stefan said critically.
He scoffed though he knew Stefan was right. He just wasn't ready to talk to her yet. Talking to her meant talking himself into it first, and he hadn't gotten there.
"I can't really talk to her if she's avoiding me," he said, knowing it was childish of him as soon as it left his lips.
"That's a bullshit excuse," Stefan said, chastising him immediately. "You two live in the same damn house. You can't tell me she's been avoiding you all this time."
"Not exactly," he hesitated recalling the night before.
"Uh oh," Stefan announced.
He looked over at Stefan questionably.
"Why do you sound guilty?" Stefan wondered. "Something else happened that you're not telling me, didn't it?"
The tone of Stefan's voice suggested that he was expecting to hear bad news of some sort.
"Oh you know, just the usual," he said brushing his hand over his knee anxiously. "I might have drawn a marker tattoo on her ribcage...we might have accidentally fallen asleep on the couch together...and I'm pretty sure I interrupted her in the shower this morning...err um...you know..."
"Masturbating?" Stefan filled in the blank.
He nodded sheepishly, thinking back to the sexy muffled moans he heard on the other side of the bathroom door this morning. It was impossible to prevent his imagination from running away on him, thinking about what she looked like bare in the shower with her hand pressed intimately between her legs, pleasuring herself. He wondered who she was thinking about, what she was thinking about. He thought about how much he yearned to join her.
"Since when do you get flustered talking about sex?" Stefan said with an arched eyebrow. "How do you know that's what she was doing?"
He glared at Stefan incredulously.
"I heard her...and she was...out of breath when she finally opened the door," he revealed. "So, she might not have been avoiding me before, but she definitely is now."
"Well I wasn't expecting that to be the cause of your guilty conscience," Stefan admitted. "I'm not even going to ask how you got yourself into those situations."
"So now I just need to figure out why she's avoiding me," he thought aloud as they pulled up in front of the house.
Either she was avoiding him because she was pissed about what happened, or she was avoiding him because she felt what he did.
"Klaus I'm going to say this one last time, you need to talk to her," Stefan stressed as he killed the engine. "You aren't going to know how she really feels until you do. But, if it's any consolation," he started, "I don't think she'd be falling asleep next to you or letting you draw on her if she didn't feel something. Just talk to her."
"Okay," he said as they stepped up to the front door and he unlocked it.
Stefan's encouragement restored his optimism and increased his confidence and motivation to talk to Caroline. He was going to confront her. Stefan had talked him into it.
Opening the door, he was greeted with the delicious aroma of whatever Caroline had been cooking in the kitchen.
He smiled, eager to inspect what she had decided to make.
"You guys made it," he heard a familiar but loathed voice say as they removed their jackets and shoes.
He peered into the living room reluctantly to see Damon on the rug with Grayson and an assortment of his favourite toys.
And just like that, his motivation and confidence was gone.
Stefan was right, Damon wasn't going to wait for him to make his move and apparently neither was Caroline.
"Damon," he sighed. "What a surprise," he said sarcastically.
Upon hearing his voice, Grayson looked up in his direction. His face lit up and he began to crawl towards him, cooing happily as he did.
Grayson, seemingly excited to see him, distracted him from his sudden bad mood.
"Hey Gray," he greeted him, leaning down to pick him up as he got closer.
He grinned as Grayson's body squirmed excitedly in his arms. Damon was watching intently, the annoyance apparent on his face.
"Meredith didn't say you would be here," Stefan queried from behind him.
It was Damon's turn to smirk boastfully.
"I was at the hospital with Meredith when Caroline called. She invited the three of us," Damon informed them. "Meredith had to stay late. She should be here any minute and dinner should be ready soon. I was just keeping Grayson busy while Caroline finishes up," he explained.
He groaned under his breath as the doorbell rang.
"That's probably Meredith," Stefan said, opening the front door for him as his hands were full with Grayson.
"Hey," Meredith greeted them, handing Stefan what appeared to be a bottle of wine. "Sorry, I'm late."
"Klaus and I just got here ourselves," Stefan assured her, taking her jacket and hanging it up.
"How did that go?" Meredith wondered, eyeing both him and Stefan.
"Good," he stated simply.
Meredith's attention quickly focused upon Grayson who was smiling at her.
"Are you having dinner with us too Grayson?" Meredith asked in her best baby voice as she approached.
"SHIT!" they all heard Caroline say from the kitchen.
Damon looked ready to respond until Meredith cut in and reached for Grayson.
"Klaus, why don't you see what's going on? The three of us can keep Grayson entertained," Meredith suggested.
It was quite obvious what she was attempting to do as she and Stefan exchanged knowing looks.
He nodded, brushing by Damon in the hall towards the kitchen.
As he entered, he had to hold back a laugh. It looked as though the contents of the kitchen had exploded everywhere. He was certain Caroline had every item from the cupboards and fridge splayed out on the island, most of which she probably hadn't even touched.
Her hair was pinned back messily and it appeared that at least some of the ingredients had been touched as there was evidence of them on her jeans.
"Fuck off!" she bellowed at a pot over the stove.
He smirked. It wasn't often Caroline swore – unless she was very angry or drunk – and he found it unexplainably endearing.
"Need a hand, love?" he offered, rounding the island towards the stove.
She jumped at the sound of his voice, having not heard him enter in the first place.
"This was a bad idea," she sighed. "I hate cooking. Why did I think cooking for everyone would be a great idea?"
"I don't know," he chuckled. "Why did you think inviting Damon would be a good idea?"
She glared at him as he peered over the contents on the stove. He couldn't resist taking an opportunity to question her about Damon, though she didn't seem like she would be giving him an answer.
"Chicken risotto?" he asked, connecting the dots as he noted the rice in one pot, chicken and mushrooms in another, and some extra broth in a saucepan.
"Most of the rice is ruined," she lamented, poking at it with a spoon. "It's burnt."
He inspected it for himself.
"It's also way too runny," she said defeated.
"You probably added too much broth...did you stir it enough?" he wondered.
"I don't know!" she snapped. "I don't remember."
He could tell she was becoming increasingly frustrated and if he read her right, she seemed to be on the verge of tears.
"Okay, it's no matter now. Do we have more rice?" he asked.
"Yeah, but not a lot," she sighed.
"I'll handle the rice," he assured her.
She nodded, though still visibly upset and frustrated with herself.
He touched her wrist.
"It's fine, sweetheart. Accidents happen. Dinner will just be a little while longer," he said. "Maybe you can put together some vegetables and a salad to make up for the smaller portion," he told her.
She looked at him with uncertainty.
"Don't worry, we got this," he urged her.
"Okay," she agreed, spinning around on her heel towards the fridge.
They worked in their respective sections of the kitchen silently but determinedly. He didn't know if she was quiet because she was still attempting to avoid him, or if she was embarrassed, or just as eager as he was to recover from her kitchen mishap.
He wanted to talk to her about the meeting with the real estate agent, but he knew now was not the time; they could talk later.
There were other things he had wanted to discuss with her, but as he heard Damon laughing alongside Stefan and Meredith, likely at Grayson, his enthusiasm and confidence waned.
Was she trying to send him a message by inviting Damon? Was she using Damon to avoid him? He didn't know, but either way he didn't like it.
"How was Grayson this afternoon?" he asked casually, attempting to get her to talk as she mixed some dressing into a salad bowl.
She looked ready to speak, but the sound of the doorbell interrupted her.
He heard her sigh in annoyance.
"I'll get it," he offered. "This rice needs to cook a little."
"It's probably Cami," she informed him as he headed for the hallway. "I invited her over as a sort of apology for the other night."
He opened the front door to find the familiar looking blonde he had crossed paths with on a few occasions when he had stopped by Caroline's store.
"Hey," she greeted with a smile. "I hope I'm not late," she said apologetically.
"No, you're not late. Dinner is a bit late," he explained, stepping aside to allow her in.
She laughed as she began to remove her jacket.
"Let me guess, Caroline?" she asked.
He smirked and nodded discreetly as he extended his hand to take her jacket. Her perfume smelled like vanilla.
"I had my doubts the second she called and invited me for dinner. Don't get me wrong, she can sew like a pro, but cooking is not a strong suit of hers," she shrugged. "But it's not really mine either, so I figured, 'what the hell.' Whatever she's cooking can't be any worse than what I'd be making for dinner tonight."
He chuckled at Camille's humorous remarks.
"I might have helped her salvage the meal," he informed her discreetly, "but you didn't hear that from me," he mused, urging her to play dumb.
"I still can't figure out why she warned me about you," Camille said cryptically.
"Camille, it's good to see you again," Meredith said as she entered the hall, interrupting them before he could inquire further.
With Caroline taking over the role of primary host for the evening, he assumed primary care of Grayson, who seemed as lively as ever, enjoying the company they had, his eyes wandering inquisitively around the room.
As he secured Grayson in his highchair, he couldn't help but notice that the remaining empty chair at the opposite end of the table for Caroline was conveniently situated beside Damon.
"Do you want some help?" Damon offered to Caroline, shooting up from his chair to help Caroline serve the meal.
He rolled his eyes at how pathetically obvious Damon was being.
"It smells delicious," Damon complimented as he set some of the dishes down on the table and began to put some food on his plate.
Caroline was smiling brightly at Damon's words as Camille took some for herself.
He took the dish of risotto after Camille was done with it and spooned some out for himself and a tiny portion onto a small dish for Grayson to try, before handing it off to Meredith.
"It looks delicious too," Meredith acknowledged.
"It was nothing," Caroline said modestly.
He took a quick initial taste to see if they had succeeded in salvaging dinner.
"It tastes great," he assured her.
He noticed Camille give him a knowing half smile, while a look of relief appeared on Caroline's features.
At the same time, she looked confused, likely wondering when he would spill the beans and inform everyone that it was, indeed him, who had rescued dinner.
Realizing that he was covering for her, she gave him a small appreciative smile as she took her seat beside Damon.
"You should try putting onions in it next time," Damon recommended as he had his first bite.
Caroline smiled politely at Damon's suggestion but he could tell she was put off by his comment.
"Caroline doesn't like onions," he said quickly, narrowing his eyes at Damon.
Damon raised his eyebrows curiously as he looked at the two of them.
"I'm not much of a fan," she confirmed to Damon. "Neither is Klaus," she added.
He did his best to hide the smug grin that began to form on his lips.
"I didn't know that. You learn something new every day," Damon acknowledged. "You two are really getting to know one another," he observed with a suggestive tone.
"They have been living together for nearly two months, Damon," Stefan pointed out.
Caroline shrugged innocently.
"We don't always cook separately. It's more efficient to cook for one another," she reasoned.
He cleared his throat, prompting Caroline to relent.
"Okay, Klaus does most of the cooking," she admitted with a guilty grin.
"Oh, really?" Damon inquired, glancing at him with an amused expression. "You've never cooked for me, Klaus," he commented accusatorily.
He chewed through a mouthful of food before spouting off his reply.
"Well that's because I only cook for people I like," he said with a vague tone that was unclear about whether he was joking or serious.
Caroline shot him a sour look.
Damon smirked, griping the material of his shirt over his heart.
"I'm genuinely hurt," Damon said.
He shrugged indifferently and that segued into an awkward silence around the table.
"Thanks for inviting us, Caroline," Camille said politely, breaking the heaviness that had settled in the room.
"I should be thanking all of you for coming after how I behaved the other night," Caroline laughed, her cheeks growing red. "This is more of an apology dinner," she added.
"We've all had a few of those nights," Stefan said in attempt to make Caroline feel better.
Damon laughed heartily as he took a bite of his food.
"Some of us more than others, right Klaus?" Damon mused accusatorily.
He pulled his attention away from Grayson who was busy mashing his fingers into the rice while his tiny rubber spoon sat untouched.
"I wouldn't know. Most of those nights aren't made for remembering," he remarked slyly.
"Good point," Damon smirked taking a sip of wine from his glass. "But that's why you have friends there to help you remember them."
"Luckily, you aren't one of my friends," he retorted with a joking tone, though underneath it all he was being completely serious.
Damon arched one of his eyebrows challengingly.
"Well, I still remember some of your more infamous nights," Damon said, knowing the last thing he wanted was for Caroline to be subjected to horror stories from his past.
He glowered at Damon as he picked at his food.
"I'd rather not take a trip down memory lane tonight, mate," he frowned.
"This probably isn't a story for the dinner table anyways," Meredith commented in a lighthearted way, though her narrow expression, pointed in Damon's direction, said she felt otherwise.
"Those are the best kinds of stories," Camille piped up enthusiastically.
Damon's smirk grew wider with her validation.
"Tell us," Caroline encouraged Damon with a reluctant curiosity.
He sighed, staring up at the ceiling and then focusing on Grayson in hopes he could avoid the entire situation as Damon recalled days he no longer felt proud of, days he used to brag about.
"I'll never forget the time Klaus came to visit Elijah and me back when we were in med school," Damon began. "That was a shit show. Elijah was so pissed at you."
"If I recall correctly, Elijah was..." he looked down at Grayson and bit his tongue, "angry with both of us," he corrected Damon.
"Yeah, but I'm not the one who had two girls in Elijah's bedroom when he came home from a long night shift at the hospital," Damon snickered.
He glanced up at Caroline briefly, long enough to notice the look of disapproval on her face.
Meredith and Stefan were awkwardly silent.
"No, you just had them in the living room for him to walk in on when he came through the front door," he retorted.
Every incriminating story Damon had against him, he had one to rival it.
Damon shrugged nonchalantly as though unfazed by what he said.
He still smirked triumphantly when he saw Caroline's disappointed reaction. That was until her eyes pierced his bitterly. She wasn't just pissed at Damon; she was pissed at him too. For what, he couldn't be sure. Perhaps for his past or maybe because he chose to indulge Damon in the tit for tat game they were currently playing.
He frowned, and looked away guiltily.
"Sounds like Elijah was the best brother and roommate anyone could ask for," Camille said sweetly, as though she sensed the tension between them.
"He was," he replied lowly, avoiding the solemn faces staring at him.
He felt his throat begin to swell and his eyes start to sting unexpectedly. For some reason Camille's observation had hit him more than he anticipated. He swallowed a large sip of wine, fighting the urge to leave the table.
Damon nodded in agreement.
Elijah was probably the only thing they could agree on.
"Neither of you sound like the best brother and roommate," Caroline said coldly, clearly displeased with their banter.
He tensed at her words. They made him angry. They hurt him, but they also made him feel remorseful.
She bit her lip, seemingly realizing what her tone implied, but she stayed quiet, picking at her food instead.
"We probably weren't," Damon confessed, looking in his direction.
He said nothing as more awkwardness settled in.
"So do you remember anything about Friday night, Caroline?" Camille asked, ever the saviour of this train wreck of a dinner.
Caroline shook her head.
"Not really. I'm just relying on what Klaus told me," she laughed quietly, attempting to participate in the less controversial topic of conversation.
He could see Stefan looking at him from the corner of his eye.
"And we've all had enough laughs about it," Caroline scoffed with a small smile tugging on her lips.
"Meredith tells me you're a better kisser than Stefan?" Camille chuckled.
Caroline gasped in amusement.
Stefan acted annoyed while Meredith nodded and laughed in joking confirmation.
"I knew it!" Damon grinned at Stefan.
"I've decided that I'm completely comfortable with my girlfriend kissing Caroline," Stefan shrugged.
"Right answer!" Damon announced, extending his hand to high five Stefan from across the table.
Stefan played along with Damon's enthusiasm as the rest of them laughed – even Grayson.
"I'm just joking," Stefan clarified, exchanging a stern but playful glance with Meredith and Caroline.
He watched as Caroline blushed and giggled with embarrassment, and he found himself smiling not at Stefan's humorous comments, but at the way Caroline's entire face rose and brightened when she herself smiled. She lit up the entire room.
"You're only comfortable with it because you'd rather be kissing Klaus," Damon said, erupting into laughter.
Stefan played along with Damon's accusation, and he blew a kiss in Stefan's direction, rather than reacting with hostility to Damon's incessant jabs.
"I'm pissed that I missed drunk Caroline though," Damon complained nudging Caroline playfully. "Did anything else happen that night besides the bar fight and the dancing on stage?" he inquired.
He acted quickly to pretend he wasn't paying attention, attempting instead to help Grayson eat his dinner with his spoon.
Caroline stammered initially before answering.
"Nothing," she said a little too quickly. "Klaus put drunk me to bed after making sure I didn't trip up the stairs or get sick everywhere. Right Klaus?"
Mention of his name caught his attention and he lifted his head, as Grayson attempted to take the spoon for himself unsuccessfully.
He nodded fast, uninterested in this topic of conversation for obvious reasons and distracted by Grayson, who probably had more rice on his face and bib than in his tummy.
"You've really become quite the Mr. Mom, Klaus," Damon observed amusedly as he watched him wipe Grayson's face clean.
Though jokes about this from Damon had grown loathsome, he much preferred this line of attack than something regarding his relationship with Caroline.
"Staying at home through the week with Grayson, feeding him, changing him, bathing him," Damon listed. "Do you read bedtime stories and hum lullabies too?" he teased. "Do you even paint anymore, or is this like your full time job now?"
He gritted his teeth in annoyance, shooting Damon a spiteful glare. Caroline was eyeing him cautiously as though he was a loose cannon waiting to explode.
"Klaus was painting last night," Caroline said, coming to his defence. "Having Klaus being the one to take primary care of Grayson is just easiest for us right now. Things will be different in a few months when he goes back to New York."
"I think it's really great what the both of you are doing," Camille interjected. "Grayson seems to be doing really well," she said, nodding towards Grayson who was attempting to use the spoon.
"It's not an easy thing to do," Meredith affirmed.
Damon shrugged.
"But it has to be weird for you," Damon pressed, still the only one amused. "Isn't it a tiny bit emasculating?"
He growled under his breath. Damon was beginning to sound like his father and he had enough.
Pushing his chair out from the table, he stood up abruptly.
"Do you have a problem with me taking time out to settle my brother's affairs, mourn his loss, and raise my nephew?" he asked Damon sternly. "Because if you do, you can leave," he said, extending his hand towards the backdoor behind him.
Damon laughed lightly and raised his hands innocently.
"Calm down, Klaus. I was just joking around," Damon said.
"So this is a joke to you? A little boy without his mother and father is a joke to you?" he seethed. "No one else is laughing. I sure as hell am not."
"Klaus," Caroline said warningly, her eyes pleading with him not to make a scene in front of their other guests.
He resented her for that.
"Fine, I'll leave," he said, staring Damon down as he left the room.
He headed for the front door. His shoes were there and he knew he had a stray pack of cigarettes stashed in one of Elena's planters on the front porch.
On the porch, he chain smoked for at least a half hour, it was a cold night, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.
He scanned through old pictures on his phone for a while before the front door opened.
Camille emerged alone, her purse and spring coat in hand.
He regarded her with a brief look as he leaned over the porch rail.
She smiled at him and he scowled. He wasn't going to apologize for his behaviour.
"It was nice to see you again," she started, pausing for a response.
He merely nodded in her direction.
"I'm not so sure anymore what Caroline sees in Damon, but she's my boss, so I'm not going to get in the middle of it, but if it's any consolation, I would have reacted the same way you did in there," she offered.
He took a silent drag of his cigarette.
She sighed almost disappointedly, stepping off the porch towards her car before stopping halfway down the walkway. She turned on her heel and looked back at him.
"If you ever want to talk, or if you just want to get out of the house and hang out while you're here, let me know. You know where to find me," she suggested anxiously, returning on the path to her car.
He considered Camille briefly before looking back down at his phone and coming across a picture of Caroline and Grayson.
Not long after Camille left, Stefan and Meredith were saying their goodbyes as they emerged from the front doorway.
Meredith said nothing to him directly, informing Stefan that she would see him at home and heading for her own car.
Stefan stood there quietly for a moment much like Camille had.
"Remember what I said," he said simply, stepping off the porch.
Damon was the last one to leave, and nearly fifteen minutes had gone by before he boldly exited onto the porch after saying a thank you and goodnight to Caroline.
He could have sworn he heard Damon kiss her on the cheek.
His stomach lurched and he dug his fingers into the grain of the railing.
When he heard the door shut and was sure Caroline hadn't decided to act as a buffer between them by physically ushering Damon out to his car, he glanced in Damon's direction.
"Stefan said you quit," Damon said, observing the cigarette between his fingers.
"Sort of," he muttered, tossing what was left of it across the yard.
"You know you don't deserve her," Damon stated.
He winced.
"Neither do you," he tried to say calmly.
He saw Damon shrug from the corner of his eye.
"Maybe not, but she's a big girl; she can make her own decisions," Damon reminded him.
He nodded in agreement as he clicked his jaw.
Facing Damon completely, still a few feet in between them, he spoke.
"She's free to be hurt by you if that's what she wants," he acknowledged before pointing towards the house, "but if you ever hurt that little boy in there, I'll make sure you hurt at least twice as much," he promised.
He avoided Damon's reaction by staring out into the front yard again.
For once, it had seemed that Damon had been rendered speechless as he retreated off the porch in silence.
He lied awake for hours that night, his mind a restless combination of thoughts of Caroline, second guesses about this whole thing, memories of Elijah, plans for the lake house, worries about Grayson, and an unrelenting urge to punch Damon Salvatore in the face.
After Damon left, he had fled upstairs to his room.
It had been his turn to avoid Caroline.
He listened to her with Grayson downstairs, he heard her put him to bed, and he heard her go to sleep.
He knew he was being just as childish as she was earlier, but he couldn't help himself. He didn't feel like being confronted or chastised by her.
Still, his guilt chewed away at him.
Coupled with all his other restless thoughts, he struggled for sleep.
In his half asleep state, he was awakened by what sounded like a crashing pot downstairs in the kitchen.
It was just after midnight, he noted, checking his phone.
Unable to recall hearing Caroline leave her bedroom, he decided to investigate.
Pulling on some pyjama pants over his boxers, he crept downstairs quietly, grabbing an umbrella from the front hall as a makeshift weapon, noticing the light on in the kitchen.
He lowered the umbrella in his hand when he found Caroline busily emptying the dishwasher.
He swallowed hard, unable to avoid noticing her bare legs in the white and blue polka dot pyjama shorts she had on, coupled with the tightly fitted powder blue tank top she was wearing. With the way the shirt was stressed against her body, it was painfully obvious to him that she wasn't wearing a bra.
Clearing his throat in his own discomfort, Caroline jumped a little, startled by his unexpected presence.
"You scared the shit out of me," she gasped, standing up straight, clutching her fist against her chest.
"Sorry," he said. "I thought I heard someone down here. I didn't know it was you," he explained, emphasizing the umbrella in his hand before setting it on the dining table.
Caroline chuckled as he headed for the fridge to get a drink.
"I can't sleep," she shrugged. "I figured I would clean up some more."
He vacillated over how to respond.
"Do you need some help?" he offered. "I can't sleep either."
"It doesn't matter. You can if you want," she answered passively.
Setting his drink down on the counter, he took some of the plates she had stacked on the counter to return them to their rightful cupboard.
They worked independently for a while, with only a few subtle looks exchanged, and a few brief touches as they slipped by one another when they needed to get somewhere in the kitchen.
"Thank you for helping with dinner tonight," Caroline finally spoke. "It probably would have been a disaster otherwise."
"Don't mention it," he said casually. "I think I still created a disaster anyways."
"Damon was out of line," she admitted. "He shouldn't have taken it as far as he did."
Her acknowledgement was reassuring.
"But you shouldn't have continued to provoke him either," Caroline added.
He shut the utensil drawer harshly.
"I was defending myself," he said. "It's not like anyone else was."
She gave him an incredulous look as she attempted to put a glass serving tray back on one of the higher shelves
"I didn't want to make the situation any worse than it already was," she reasoned. "I thought you could handle it but you let Damon push your buttons."
He stepped in beside her, grabbing the tray before she dropped it and secured it on the shelf.
For the briefest of moments his body was pressed snugly against hers and their hands touched. Her hair smelt like strawberries and citrus.
"Why are you defending him?" he wondered bitterly, pulling back from her.
"I'm not," she denied, turning around to face him, finding herself stuck between him and the counter.
They both looked down at their feet shyly, their eyes fighting the urge to take in the sight of the other.
Biting the inside of his cheek, he allowed himself to look at her, trying hard to focus on her eyes rather than how smooth her legs looked, how short her shorts truly were, and how her perfect breasts strained under the material of her tank top. All he wanted to do was pick her up, sit her on the counter, and have his way with her. All he wanted was for her to want the same.
He reminded himself of how foolish he thought she was being with Damon.
"You know he'll only hurt you," he said seriously, no longer in the mood to censor himself when it came to her budding relationship with Damon.
"I'd rather take a chance than live in fear," she said accusatorily.
He raised his eyebrows suspiciously.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he challenged.
She shook her head disappointedly, walking past him with a few clean wine glasses from the sink in her hand.
"It means I don't want to argue about Damon anymore," she sighed. "Let's just agree to disagree."
He didn't want to agree to disagree. He wanted her to see how wrong Damon was for her, but he found himself nodding, nonetheless.
Just tell her how you feel Stefan's voice urged him in his mind.
"Caroline..." he started.
She looked at him briefly though she was concentrating on putting the glasses away carefully.
He thought about their previous nights together, what was communicated between them directly and indirectly. He was so certain she felt the same surging electricity between them.
Now, after tonight with Damon, he wasn't so sure.
"I just want you to be careful," he said reluctantly, knowing that's not what he had set out to say originally.
God, he was pathetic. He feared her rejection so much.
"I will," she replied, the disappointed expression on her face lingering.
"I didn't mean to ruin dinner tonight," he said, closing the now empty dishwasher.
She nodded seemingly understandingly as she closed the cupboard doors and dropped back down on the flats of her feet from her toes.
"How did today go with Stefan? You never told me," she inquired, clearly changing the subject.
"Chris, the agent, thinks we can get what we want for it if we rent or sell. We just have to decide what we want to do. I told him we'd give him a call next week," he informed her.
Caroline appeared pleased with the outcome of the meeting.
"That's good news. Thanks for handling that," she said. "I know...that probably wasn't easy...going up there," she acknowledged.
He hesitated, avoiding her comment for a moment by studying the pattern of the granite countertop with his fingertips.
"Driving up there and going through the lake house kind of felt like the first night I got here...when they died," he confessed. "Everything in the house was the way they left it the last time they were there," he elaborated, his skin rising as he experienced the same eerie and sick feeling he had numerous times since that horrible night.
Caroline's contented look began to fade into a frown as she regarded him sympathetically.
"You didn't have to go," Caroline said guiltily, coming closer to him.
"It had to be done," he shrugged, glancing at her beside him, only noticing his blurry vision then.
His eyes were watering.
He cringed in embarrassment and turned away.
"On the way there and back I was constantly wondering where the accident might have happened," he found himself admitting unexpectedly, "what they must have gone through," he winced.
The palm of Caroline's hand ghosted over his.
"The pain they must have felt," he said, his throat swelling, "the possibility that Elijah was forced to watch helplessly as Elena died beside him."
She squeezed his hand and he heard her breathing hitch uncomfortably.
"I know it's sick to think about," he told her. "I don't want to think about it, and I haven't for a while but sometimes the thoughts just nag at me. They haunt me."
"I think about that night too," she revealed.
Silence filled the kitchen as they both tried to swallow down their emotions, but her hand wavered from his.
"I'm sorry about what I said earlier," Caroline finally spoke up, "about you not being the best brother to Elijah. It was more of a joke. I was annoyed by your bickering with Damon. I didn't mean it," she told him seriously.
He shrugged pessimistically.
"It doesn't matter because it's true," he said. "I wasn't the best brother."
Caroline scoffed under her breath beside him.
"Maybe not all the time, neither was Elijah, but you loved him more than anything," she reminded him, "deep down, I think Elijah knew that."
He considered her slowly, his eyes wandering to meet hers carefully as he turned towards her slightly.
"And if he had any doubts, he definitely doesn't anymore," Caroline assured him.
Preoccupied by his thoughts and Caroline's words, he didn't expect to feel her hands slipping in between his arms and waist pulling him into a hug.
He let his arms close around her warily; she held him tighter, resting her head against his chest while her hands began to stroke his back soothingly.
There was something calming about feeling her body pressed up against his own.
"I miss them," he breathed quietly, afraid someone else would hear his vulnerable confession even though they were the only two people in the room.
"I do too," she sighed with a deep and discontented exhale, pulling him in closer.
A/N: Sooo...what did you think? I know it's probably not exactly what you wanted, but Caroline made some serious progress with her feelings for Klaus in this chapter even if she didn't admit them to Klaus. Klaus also made some progress. Their relationship as a whole made progress. This relationship is endgame. There needs to be a solid foundation for them to start a real relationship on and this is what the last 20+ chapters have been about.
That said, I know you're starved for the kind of progress that involves Klaus and Caroline's bodies pressed up against one another and their lips connected...in real life. Don't worry! It's coming very soon.
Next time: stressed when the Masquerade Fundraiser doesn't go as planned, Caroline reluctantly asks for Klaus's help. This request leads to an explosive confrontation, putting Klaus and Caroline into a vulnerable situation. An innocent gesture on Caroline's part turns into something more after her self control begins to slip, leaving the nature of the relationship between Klaus and Caroline even more uncertain than before.
DUN DUN DUN. Any ideas?