It isn't easy, to give away something without having ever truly had it.
"Hello, love."
Caroline twirls around in a cloud of white lace and taffeta.
She hates how it's excitement bubbling in the pit of her stomach where dread or, at least, annoyance should reside.
"You were not invited."
She hadn't trusted herself to invite him.
The way his dimples dig deeper into his spread cheeks seems to taunt her, tell her he knows.
Klaus, hands clasped behind his back, clad in a navy-blue suit that matches the storming hues in his eyes, takes a step forward (which is closer—
—which is too close).
"I'm well aware I wasn't. A fact, truth be told, I find quite odd. Surely, a wedding is every bit as important as a graduation, if not more?" Caroline glares, is met by a dangerous set of challenging eyes. Klaus arches his eyebrows. "Perhaps, you feared I'd be able to change your mind? Perhaps, you are hoping I will?"
He says it like he is hoping she will let him and it very nearly breaks her undead heart.
He's right, of course. She wishes she could tell him but she knows she can't.
Instead, she scoffs, arms rising to cross over her chest as she briefly looks to the side, in need of a reprieve from the intensity of his stare.
"Someone has a high opinion of himself."
But Klaus does not engage in their usual banter.
His expression turns into steel, jaw clenching and dimples disappearing.
"You can do better than Stefan Salvatore."
"Didn't you two use to be friends?"
"Any fellowship I might have had or might still have with him means nothing compared to the high esteem I regard you in."
Caroline's whole demeanor softens.
Her body unfurls, much like the wings of a butterfly poised for flight, and, for a moment, a moment she has long longed for, she doesn't feel as if the weight of the world is stifling her.
The world is a free thing.
So is she.
"I know," she sighs, "and I know I deserve better."
"Do you?"
"Yes. And he does, too. I clung to him during my mom's illness then after her death, used him, in a way, despite the fact that I do love him." Something dark flashes across Klaus' gaze at her confession but Caroline simply shrugs. "And, now, he's human. I have eternity. I can give him one lifetime."
Klaus hums under his breath, takes another step forward. "That's awfully generous of you. I wonder if I will ever be on the receiving end of such generosity?"
"Oh," Caroline laughs, "you've been plenty, already! Or we wouldn't be having this conversation, right now."
"I suppose," he concedes, takes a third step forward. "I am a greedy man."
"You're trying to take over a whole city as if you're freaking royalty," she rolls her eyes, bright and amused and focused on him in a way he has gone without for far too long, "so, yes, 'greedy' would be accurate."
"To each their own hobbies."
"I suppose," she repeats his words with the hint of a smile. "How is New Orleans?"
"Well," he presses his lips together, pensive, "my siblings and I are working together against getting killed rather than towards killing each other, so, all things considered, it could be worse."
"I heard about Kol," she hedges, voice low, "I'm... happy for you, that you have him back."
"I wish I could share the sentiment," Klaus snorts. Caroline knows him too well not to detect the fondness in his tone.
They are standing close enough now that she is able to smack him lightly on the shoulder.
"Would it kill you to admit that you care, every once in a while?"
"I'm afraid I've dedicated my whole quota of it to you, love."
Her heart is so warm she feels like she could burst into flames.
So not an option, even for vampires.
She clears her throat, pretends not to be charmed. "People bring gifts to people they care about on their wedding day."
"Only if these people believe such an occurrence is to be celebrated."
"Klaus—"
Klaus brings his hands up between them in an admission of temporary defeat. "My apologies, love. I did not come empty-handed, either way."
A rectangular, velvet case is revealed when he draws back one flap of his jacket, is opened with deft fingers in real-life slow-motion.
Recognizing what lies inside of it at first glance, Caroline sucks in a sharp breath.
Her fingers pulse and itch with the desire to trail the length of the diamond bracelet again.
Klaus plucks it out of its case with the utmost care. "I hope this counts, even though it's recycled?"
"That depends," Caroline swallows thickly. "Is it supposed to be 'something old' or 'something borrowed'?"
He clicks the clasp perfectly around her wrist.
Silence stretches on.
They are both looking down at the cold metal against her hot skin, as if looking up, looking at each other in the process, is too unbearable a thought, too painful a thing to accomplish.
"Considering it has always been yours and will always be yours, love," Klaus whispers, "whether you wish to have it or not, I'd say it's 'something old'."
"Thank you."
"No need to thank me. I have simply returned it to its rightful owner."
"Not just for the bracelet," Caroline clarifies, studying her left forefinger as it caresses along the curved silver. She pauses, hesitates, takes to chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, uncaring of the fact that the action is messing up her make-up. "For coming, too."
"Not sure I deserve that one. I didn't exactly come with the best of intentions."
"I think you did," she insists.
They both look up, finally, at long last, at the very same time.
Blue on blue of blues so different yet unable to exist one without the other. Like the depth of the sea or the width of the sky, made up of hues that meld one with the other, mold one into the other, a constant transformation, a constant rebirth. A push and pull Klaus and Caroline know too well.
"You brought a gift. What would have been the point of bringing anything if you were planning on whisking me away?"
Klaus waves a hand around in the air. "Plan 'B' and all that."
"Maybe it's just too early for plan 'A'," Caroline offers, so softly it sounds less like a suggestion and more like a promise.
Klaus ducks his head, dimples making a reappearance. "Perhaps," he agrees. "If I'm too early, then, I shall take my leave."
He retraces his steps backwards and Caroline feels a surge of panic swell up within her chest.
"Wait!" she all but shouts, reaches out with one arm, bracelet tinkling, on pure instinct. "You're leaving? You came all the way here... you should stay for the actual ceremony."
Klaus shoots her a pointed look. "I think you far overestimate my self-control, Caroline."
She can't even begin to imagine what she would do in his place, how she would feel, so she accepts his stance with a nod.
"Fine!" she lets out a long-suffering sigh through a smile. "Go. You've taken up enough of my time, already."
"Oh, love," Klaus grins, the picture-perfect predator waiting for his prey, and, suddenly, the excitement in the pit of Caroline's stomach threatens to boil over, "you did say you have eternity."