I Don't Think I Was Breathing, Until Now
I Don't Think I Was Living, Until You
The Cosmic 'Click'- Doomed x Moses Sumney
There are certain silences that are deafening. Phantom crescendos that echo through the synapses and the stars that demand to be heard. Others can be felt. That kind of touch that is inhaled so deeply you can feel it embossed behind your eyes. But there are some silences that stretch over the span of a look between two vulnerable people in love, a whispered word, a shared breath.
Somehow, he didn't know how. Didn't know how this rapture found him. Life has this way of making you feel crazy, the fear of sounding unsound.
Klaus was not heedless to the incoherent noise of static buzzing in his ear or the way every face on the busy street blurred into a mass of gray. It's by simple coincidence and yet utter cosmic alignment that he meets Caroline.
His curls lay against his forehead, his inky blue eyes bleed black; a striking juxtaposition to the pastel skies and resting waters off the coast. The vein on the side of his forehead lashes angrily as it throbs in unison with his heavy breathing after hanging up the phone with one of his inner circle.
Gravel intermixed with tiny pieces of broken glass crunch under the sole of Klaus' italian leather boots as he circles The Duomo of Milan, the bewitching gothic cathedral that had undergone complex static restoration of tiberium pillars throughout his many visits over the centuries. The smooth marble-like structure shines opalescent against the pale rays of the fading day. Klaus can't help but marvel at the holy walls, how they enchant even a man as unholy as himself.
He'd just gotten word that the doppelganger had survived the ritual. When he'd completed his transformation, he woke up outside a modest farmhouse settled on the outskirts of Mystic Falls. Blood painted the quaint little cottage like the Red Rum, the memory of his victims screams echoing through his skull in delicious cacophony. He licked his teeth in wanton mirth, recalling the particularly memorable taste of the adrenaline and blood dancing together on his tongue.
Now learning the news that the mousy, watered down version of Katerina managed to slip through the crevices of life and death, Klaus trembled hotly at the loss of control. If there's one thing he wears like a coat of armor with the opulence of a fine suit, it's the manipulation of control that only he is allowed to wield. Buzzing with anticipation to see the life drain from the pretty little doppelganger's brown eyes, Klaus stumbles around the corner of the cathedral and lays witness to the most beguiling interaction-
The first thing he notices is the flash of her silky white dress that blends transparently with the iridescence of the setting moon. The closer he gets, the speck of white manifests into a girl. She doesn't see him now, he thinks. She sits offset on a bench on the backside of the cathedral. With a sanguine smile and unfathomable azure eyes, she watches a young woman lounging near her, unaware of the looming eyes of the mysterious woman admiring her. How intimate this feels, Klaus thinks to himself. The thought of watching this woman ravishingly watching another woman with unrivaled beauty, but beauty nonetheless.
Klaus wishes he could capture the exact shade of her silvery blonde hair on a canvas as it flirts at the edge of her shoulders, exquisite and uncommon, a flash of the waning moonlight on her neck. She continues to stare at the unnamed woman with naked curiosity, a sliver of salacious desire in her eyes barely hidden behind the tilt of her lashes.
With the fleetingness of the blink of an eye, the woman in white flashes behind the unsuspecting human. Klaus stops breathing, if only not to alert the other supernatural of his presence until he's ready to reveal himself. She taps on the woman's shoulder as the other peers around her shoulder with a pleasant smile.
The woman in white smiles prettily, "Ciao signorina, mi chiamo Caroline. Speravo che si potesse dipingere un quadro per me." (Hello Miss, my name is Caroline. I was hoping you could paint a picture for me.)
The woman looks at Caroline with a furrowed brow, her confusion evident, "Mi dispiace, signorina. Non capisco." (I'm sorry, Miss. I don't understand.)
Caroline's eyes darken to an immeasurable black. So pretty, so void, so vacant.
Klaus feels a delicious chill tumble down his spine. He revels at the smear of shadow that rests so comfortably underneath her eyes, blue-black bruises that give away to the monster that lives just underneath the surface of her snow-white skin. Pretty Caroline tilts her head curiously at the woman, her glossy black eyes leaving Klaus rapt at their bottomlessness.
Before the woman can even form the thought to scream, Caroline recites to her a calming placate to coax the woman into a false sense of comfort.
"Ti prego, non urlare. Solo sentire. La tua ultima ora è alle tue esigenze, ma farò in modo che tu non venga dimenticato." Caroline runs her fingers soothingly through the girl's dark ebony hair, "Non ti dimenticherò." (Please don't scream. Only feel. Your final hour is upon you, but I will make sure you are not forgotten. I will not forget you.)
Caroline kisses the woman sweetly on the lips, her fangs piercing the other woman's mouth, a pearly drop of blood on her bottom lip. Caroline's gaze transfixed on the blood, gives the other girl's mouth a long, languid lick, moaning in pleasure as the blood presses against her tongue. In a flash, she has the woman against the wall of the cathedral, her demeanor hazy and blood high as she's laid threadbare for Klaus to see.
The woman's face swims with a mixture of fear and arousal, leaning in against her human instincts, silently begging for another taste of Caroline. She smiles wickedly at the unperturbed human, giving her another long, bleeding kiss.
Caroline mounts the girl against the wall, rubbing her body teasingly against the fragile, little human. Klaus feels his fangs elongate at the sight, his own eyes now a hard onyx.
Biting into the girl's neck, Caroline tears generously into the artery, splattering blood between the two women that now decorates the top of her breasts and the front visage of her white dress. The erotic vitality smothers Klaus in the place he stands, his desire to partake in the act of the feed with this enchanting, young vampire stamped out by his elation at seeing another vampire so unhinged and glorious in her natural skin.
With a thrust and a sickening pull, Caroline rips the girl's head off, the viscosity of blood and clumps of mangled flesh decorate the alabaster walls like a gory finger painting. An act of unruly lust and passion.
Caroline kneels down at the carnage at her feet and kisses the girl gently on the cheek of her decapitated head, "Grazie Elena, mi hai dipinto il quadro più glorioso." (Thank you Elena… you've painted me the most glorious picture.)
The baby vampire does something that surprises him.
She peers over at the spot he hides in the shadows as though she'd known he was standing there watching all along, a small smirk pressed against her lips. They make eye contact for what felt like a small eternity. She winks.
Then she's gone.