Though I should have found myself overwhelmed with ideas this year, I've been suffering a major writer's block...but I'm here now. 2020 has been a REAL beoch to me, but one good (or so my mom says) thing that came out of it was that- I have now, finally moved on from The Vampire Diaries Universe. Here's a rather fluffy Klaroline to celebrate moving on and growing up in general.
The first time he sees her, he's out on a nightly stroll.
He's left his mother a little disgruntled as he excuses himself for some much needed fresh air. In a somewhat deserted alley way, he leans against the brick walls of a building, looking up at the sky, reaching into his pocket. He's about to light his cigarette when he hears a shriek, followed by a grunt. Frowning, he stands absolutely still for a few moments, unwilling to 'rescue' someone probably just fooling around. But when he hears strangled, rather cut-off yells and a muffled 'help!' he takes off in the direction of the noise, cigarette falling from his fingers, forgotten.
He turns the corner to find a woman, face partly hidden in the shadows, her chest heaving softly. He can see only her mouth, painted red as death. A girl, much younger looking, emerges from behind her, face stained with tears as she grabs her bag from the ground and watches him wearily. When she decides he poses no threat, she quietly thanks the woman and leaves without a backward glance. Slowly, his gaze falls downward, and he sees the three bodies lying on the ground, writhing in pain. His eyes rise up to the woman quite involuntarily, and she smiles a knowing smile as she wipes her palms on her jeans before turning on her heel and disappearing into the darkness of the alley. Klaus thinks that of the four bodies she's left behind, she's taken one heart with her.
He dreams of her and wakes up in the middle of the night, feeling oddly at peace, his fingers reaching for a paintbrush.
Now, on the wall of his studio hangs a new addition. Her eyes hidden, her blood red lips curved into a sinful smile, her soft curves accentuated in a red dress beautifully poured onto her person. At her feet are great, raging, deadly flames of fire, but she stands there calmly, the fire of no matter.
Every time he looks at her, he is overcome by an irrational longing.
The second time, he's on a holiday with his friends.
Vienna is absolutely magical at Christmastime, he thinks, smiling to himself. Its prettiest squares transformed into beautiful Christmas markets and the famous City Hall Square no less than fairyland. This just might be heaven on earth, he muses.
And so it makes sense to find her in City Hall as the sun goes down, he supposes. The last of the sunlight glinting off her, she looks heavenly. She has beautiful eyes, he notes, an electric green so hard to miss. She's making a modest ensemble of a loose shirt and skirt look sinful, her smile contagious, dimples showing as she laughs freely with her friends. As he watches her golden hair tumble over her back, Klaus thinks that he should talk to her.
She's impossibly beautiful when it gets dark and the lights come on, her eyes sparkling as she takes in the sights with a childish excitement. Their eyes meet as he goes to stand directly across from her with a vendor's table between them, and she gives him a small smile as she navigates her friends and herself through the crowd.
He's sure she knew he was still looking when she turned to look at him one last time as she turned the corner.
The first thing he does when he's back home is lock himself in his studio.
This time she's laughing as she lies on the grass with flowers in her hair. She wears a soft white dress that drapes over her like second skin, and the sun casts a halo, of sorts, on her head, and she looks like an angel. He hangs it in his room, where it's the last thing he sees when he falls asleep every night.
The third time, he's at Elijah's wedding as the best man.
He looks himself in the mirror, Best Man indeed, he smirks to himself. He steps out of his room when called and turns the corner of his hallway to join the rest of the wedding party and to lead the maid of honor out to begin the ceremony, and is met with a pleasant surprise.
She's fussing with her friend's hair, annoyed, but when she sees him, she pauses, surprised. She then catches sight of his bow tie, looks down at her own dress and then beams, her damn dimples making Klaus want to kick Elijah out of his own wedding.
Paralyzed, he offers her his arm, and she links their arms together, pressing into his side. The first words he hears from her mouth are his name.
"Niklaus Mikaelson."
"Klaus," he counters, smiling at her. "Trust me when I say I know my mythology well," he adds. When she gives me a confused look, he adds, "I thought I knew all the mythological goddesses, but what's your name?"
Her eyes widen for a second, but she laughs and Klaus is pleased to note that she doesn't unlink their arms when she smacks him on his shoulder with her other hand.
"Caroline Forbes." She says, a pretty little blush coloring her cheeks.
He thinks Kol might have saved him from embarrassment when he asks everyone to line up, because Klaus is pretty sure he was about to grab her and kiss her.
Needless to say, he's got eyes only for her throughout the day.
When they're to dance, he bows for her and she giggles, curtseying with a coy smile. Then he takes her in his arms and they dance the night away.
He hangs this one in his study, and anyone can tell that it has taken a lot of time and care to portray his feelings in the form of a golden haired maiden in a powder blue dress, the rest of the world a blur as she sways and spins to her heart's content under the stars.
He's seen her so many times since Elijah's wedding to Katerina; he no longer needs to keep count.
They've spent so much time together that the line between friends and lovers has now become incredibly blurred. They meet at the zoo, the amusement park, the library, the coffee shop, the movies, for dinner, and eventually at each other's for movie night. It is on one such a night that Klaus paints his masterpiece.
They've paused the movie for dinner, and as they're getting the cutlery out, there's a patter at the windows and they both look to see the rain pounding against the glass, the raindrops illuminated by the streetlights.
Klaus turns to Caroline just in time to see her face light up with the widest, most beautiful smile he's ever seen on anyone.
Her bright eyes look to him, and he smiles, knowing exactly what she'd like.
"Dance with me?" he asks, reaching his hand out as he sets the plates down. She sets the glasses down too, letting him take her hand and lead her out the door and into the rain.
They're in her front yard and it's raining heavily, and they're both barefoot and drenched in no time. He's twirling her again and again, and she's laughing, so carefree.
She suddenly pulled impossibly close to him and he's looking at her with such awe that her heart clenches, and she finds that she's unable to look away from his ocean blue eyes.
"How are you so beautiful?" he asks her, his words barely a whisper as he tucks her hair behind her ear, his other fingers gripping tightly onto her waist.
Caroline's hands move up his arms, resting on his shoulders.
"How are you so full of light, my love?"
She sucks in a breath of air. He's called her 'love' before, of course, but 'my' love is entirely different, and she knows that he knows it. His hands move of their own accord, and he's holding her face, staring at her with a reverence that makes Caroline grip his shoulders tight.
"So strong, so stunning, such a work of art…"
One hand of hers reaches up and she brushes a thumb across his cheek.
Neither of them is sure who closed the distance, but as their lips meet, they aren't thinking anymore.
When he gets home later that night, having warmed her up with chicken soup and tucked her into bed, he heads straight to his studio, knowing he has been changed forever, and will never be the same now.
This he hangs in his bedroom. There's a perfect proportion of light and shadow in her eyes as she looks up at him, and his hands are holding her, every raindrop painstakingly painted onto her beautiful, beautiful face. He takes extra care with her mouth. It's hard not to, now that he know how it feels on his own.
The care and love put into the painting make it impossibly beautiful.
There she was, his masterpiece. His light, his wonder, his muse, his goddess.
His love. His Caroline.
He's crying solid tears as he watches her make her way to him, her eyes never straying from his own person.
The little flower crown on her head and the bouquet of sunflowers and wild lilies are beautiful, of course, but all they can ever strive to be is a pretty little accessory on the side because Caroline looks like a literal goddess descended from the skies just for him.
Her own eyes watery, she gives him the softest hint of a smile, and fresh tears flow down his cheek again.
He's never, ever, felt anything like her before.
An eternity and a whirlwind of vows- that he knows they both mean with every fiber of their beings- later, two words fill him with a sense of warmth he knows will never truly fade. Not as long as she stays by his side.
"I do." She says, her eyes shining with a light only she could ever muster up for him.
He can't decide whether she's at her most beautiful when her eyes light up every time they meet his own, or when she's simply minding her own business with her nose in some book, or if it's when she's tapping the eraser tip of her pencil on her nose as she's thinking. Or even if it's when she's sleeping so peacefully beside him, her eyelashes fluttering as she dreams.
Or, if it's when her features are contorted with the pleasure that he brings her as he pushes into her repeatedly. Or when he's having his fill of her taste and she grips him tightly- with her thighs, or her fingers on his hair- holding him in place as she lets him do to her things that would make her blush just thinking about them out in public.
Her gasped moans of "More, more, more..." or throaty admission of "Yours, yours, yours, only yours, Klaus, oh god!" or her screams of, "Harder, Klaus, harder, harder, harder, ohmygodahhhhh" or his favorite, "KLAUS!" all pushing him further in the corner where he truly his all hers.
No, Klaus cannot decide. But he does know that this woman is going to be the end of him.
One of his presents for his new wife was a strictly-for-their-eyes-only-non-negotiable painting of her in their new bed, tangled in sheets that were placed rather strategically on her creamy skin.
This particular work of art never went up on any wall for obvious reasons, but Caroline had him package it neatly for her (much to his confusion) and had kept it in their closet where she had emptied an entire section (Klaus took this as motivation and encouragement for future endeavors, of course.)
And for the many following years that they had the fortune of spending with each other, they could never settle on which of his paintings of her were truly the best. It was a running debate in their home, and they always had different opinions each time, but he would never trade any part of his life with her for anything.
No, Klaus thought to himself, tightening his grip around his wife as they watched their grandchildren play in the snow, I've painted you for myself, my love, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.