A/N: School has been rough. I basically don't get a day off. But today, I sat down and I finished this damn thing and it is two thousand words longer than the previous longest chapter.

Lots happens here. Some of it isn't very nice. There is a very brief instance of child abuse near the end, so if you are sensitive to that, please do not read!

Enjoy.

Thursday | You Could Be Happy

Early bird that she was, Caroline rolled out of bed the next morning at 6:00, ready for a good day. Begging for a good day. Yesterday had gone smoothly, somehow, but that didn't mean anything. Based on how the week was going so far, she was more likely to suffer than not. And it was difficult to focus on the positives when her sleep was constantly disrupted by nightmares. The kind of nightmares that felt so real, she woke up in a sweat, swearing he was standing in her bedroom, his black eyes glowing and his sharp teeth bared.

Caroline shivered as she stared at herself in the mirror on her bathroom cupboard door. She was usually confident enough to believe she was stunning with and without makeup, but this morning her under-eyes were particularly dark and puffy, and they made her whole face look sunken. Near-constant nightmares would do that.

She switched on the shower and pulled at her cheeks, waiting for the water to heat up. "It will be a good day," she said to her reflection. "You will put on some makeup, you will put on a pretty top, and you will kick ass."

Steam poured through the shower curtain. Assured it was hot enough—Caroline needed melt-your-flesh-off hot—she stripped herself of her PJs and stepped inside. The water hit her like a boiling waterfall. Instantly, she felt the fierce heat purging her body of all of the toxic thoughts and feelings swarming around inside. Bit by bit, fragmented images of Tyler's wicked face faded until she was left with only the unsettling feelings his presence, phantom or otherwise, inspired.

As the remnants of her nightmares dimmed, Caroline found an almost equally troubling picture making itself a comfortable home in her mind.

Klaus. Sitting in her kitchen, his bronzed curls mussed and out of place, his mouth pulled up in a way Caroline had never before witnessed. His blue eyes turning to slits not because he was scowling at her, but because he was smiling at her.

The shower's temperature suddenly was too much for Caroline to bear. Satisfied her conditioner had washed out completely, she turned the knobs. She stood in the bathtub and stared at the white-tiled wall in front of her, watching drops of water swirl through the grout. Bonnie's voice was in her ear.

You don't like him, do you?

Damn it, Bonnie!

Caroline slapped the wall and ripped open the shower curtain. Running a fluffy towel over her body until she was relatively dry, she wiped at the fogged mirror and looked sternly at herself.

"You do not like Klaus," she said warningly. "One smile does not a nice guy make, and you are not mixing yourself up with him. Not now, not ever."

She carried on with the rest of her morning routine in an angry huff. Her face was red from how aggressively she applied her moisturiser, but she quickly covered it up with a layer of foundation. Underneath her eyes, she spread concealer and dabbed it out roughly with a sponge, pausing every few beats when she accidentally jabbed herself in the eye.

Standing in front of her closet, her towel still wrapped around her, Caroline thumbed through her wardrobe. It was a chillier morning. Signs that autumn was there to stay were all around, and she would have to dress accordingly. Her hand reached for a cream coloured lacy peplum top. A gift from her mom last Christmas. She knew it was expensive. Her eyes had caught the Anthropologie gift receipt when she unwrapped the present.

But she also knew she wouldn't be allowed to wear it. Tyler had this weird thing about her wearing shirts that weren't skintight. He liked to just reach out and grab her waist. He didn't want to have to deal with all of the extra fabric.

Resolutely, Caroline took the shirt off of its hanger and stood in front of her mirror, holding the shirt up to her body. Her mom had good taste—the top was beautiful.

Caroline paired it with some maroon jeans and inspected herself, satisfied that she looked alluring enough to catch the attention of her classmates, but elegant enough that if she suddenly had to meet the Queen, she wouldn't ask why Caroline was dressed so alarmingly bare.

Lazily, her hand stroking the lace, Caroline wondered if Klaus liked shirts that circled out like this one did. If he would like this shirt on her.

Then she paused and shook her head aggressively, mystified by the thought that just entered her head. Clearly, her pep talks were not working.

She stepped closer to the mirror and frowned at her tired face. "Stop it," she urged. "Don't make me do anything drastic. Klaus is off limits."

God, she was going insane. Talking to her reflection, seeing Tyler lurking where he most certainly wasn't, wondering if Klaus would like the shirt she was wearing.

She contemplated changing, but when she came out of her room for breakfast and her mom caught sight of her wearing the top, she knew she had to keep it on.

"You look beautiful," she said, pinning her Sheriff's badge on to her beige button-up. "I always wondered where that shirt ended up."

Caroline smiled guiltily. "I completely forgot I had it," she lied.

So many lies.

Wrapping her Batman belt around her waist, Elizabeth Forbes took her keys off of the counter and leaned back against the kitchen sink. "I've got five minutes," she said. "I feel like we haven't seen each other for weeks. Tell me how school's going."

"School's fine. Long," Caroline said.

"Any big assignments yet? It's junior year. I know they like to pile up on you guys."

"I've got one big project for health."

"The egg thing?"

An ounce of guilt slipped from Caroline's smile. "The egg thing."

"Who's your partner? Is Tyler in your class? I can't remember."

Caroline's breath faltered. She swallowed a hot gulp of air. "Um," she said, "Tyler and I actually broke up," she said tightly.

Her mother's face fell. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, and all Caroline could hear was Klaus's voice calling her that the first day of health, "I'm so sorry." She came around the island and gave Caroline a hug. Her gun dug into Caroline's hip bone. "Why didn't you tell me when it happened?"

Caroline broke free from her mom's arms, sure now that she wasn't going to cry. That she wasn't going to tell her mother the truth. Tanner knowing would be bad. Her mother, the sheriff, knowing would be the worst.

Caroline shrugged. "It's like you said, we haven't really been on the same schedule."

"Are you feeling okay?" Her mom touched her cheek affectionately.

"I'm fine, Mom, really. It was time for us to break up." It was way past time for them to split, but she couldn't say that out loud. She saw her mom's eyes move to the clock on the oven behind Caroline. "You've got to go. Don't worry about me. Worry about keeping Mystic Falls' streets safe."

Her mom left thirty minutes before Caroline had to, and she spent the remaining time of her morning forcing herself to eat a bowl of cereal and making sure she had all of her homework ready. By the time she pulled into the student parking lot, her blood poisoned with caffeine, she had stopped thinking about Klaus and health and her shirt.

In fact, she was doing her best to think about nothing. Nothing at all except getting through the day without a hitch. If she smiled enough and pretended enough, maybe her overworked brain would start believing things were perfectly fine. Normal, even.

And she got lucky for the majority of the day. She pushed, pushed, pushed. Onward and outward. She spoke up in class. She fluttered her hair behind her shoulder, smiling at her teachers when they applauded her responses. She thanked the couple of people in the halls who complemented her top, telling them where she got it and who she got it from.

Caroline was good at pushing.

Between third and fourth period, Caroline made a quick escape from the giant mass of students to the toilet. She had only seven minutes remaining when she flushed and exited the stall. Focused on the sink ahead of her, she didn't notice the figure standing, looming, by the door until she heard someone clear their throat. Her head whipped around.

Hayley. Gorgeous, tall, skinny Hayley with designer clothes and arched eyebrows that made her look like she was constantly judging you.

Which she was.

The sound she made to get Caroline's attention reminded her of how Harry Potter described Professor Umbridge. High-pitched and nasally and so, so shrill.

Caroline switched off the tap and snagged a paper towel. Hayley tapped her foot as she waited.

"So—" Caroline started, but Hayley clearly had other plans. Other very rehearsed plans.

She put up a long, bony hand and said, "Stop. I don't want to hear your annoying little voice."

"My annoying little voice?" Caroline said. "Are you one of those American Idol contestants who gets humiliated on national television because everyone they love has lied to them all of their lives about how horrible their voice is?"

Hayley's mouth dropped open a half-centimetre. She gathered herself and it snapped shut. "I see you've got a backbone then. It's only when you talk to my boyfriend that you turn into a spineless bitch, huh?"

A chill ran up Caroline's definitely-there spine. "If you're here to talk about Tyler, you're wasting your breath. I don't want to hear what you have to say."

Caroline made to leave. She chucked the sopping paper towel in the bin and moved closer to the door, but Hayley stood her annoyingly tall ground.

Glaring up at her, Caroline took a step back. "What could you possible want to say to me about Tyler? Are you worried I want him back? Because let me assure you, I. Do. Not."

"They all say that."

"All?"

Hayley rolled her elegant eyes. "All ex-girlfriends," she clarified. "They all say they don't want their boyfriends back, especially the ones who got dumped, but it's not true. You can't help but still want them."

This was how Caroline knew Tyler hadn't given Hayley the whole story. How she knew Tyler wasn't brave enough or trusting enough to let slip about the photograph. Because Hayley thought the reason Tyler and Caroline broke up was all down to her.

God, just thinking about that photo made Caroline's blood bubble and pop.

She had to keep a clear head. If she didn't, Hayley would win whatever battle they were fighting.

But it was hard. Each time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Tyler the night of her birthday standing in her bedroom with that photograph pulled up on his phone. All she could hear were the threats he made. The threats made using his voice, the voice that once brought her such calm and happiness. The voice that guided her through their first date, their first kiss. Their first time.

"He didn't break up with me," Caroline said, her jaw tight. It would hurt later, but she couldn't get it to relax. "Is that what you think, that he came over that night to dump me?"

Hayley stuck her upturned nose at her. "I know he did."

"Right," she huffed, "and you don't think I dumped him the second I caught you two naked on his living room floor? You think he had to pull out of you, get dressed, drive all the way to my house, and end things with me?" She was on the verge of shouting, but her clamped jaw wouldn't let it happen. "You think that's what happened?"

"He said you begged him to take you back. He said that you told him you'd do better. You'd do more. But of course he already had more. He had me."

Caroline's throat burned. Her eyes stung.

The bastard. The evil, pathetic bastard.

"Get out of my way," Caroline said, pushing Hayley aside. Toothpick that she was, Hayley stumbled with the lightest touch. Caroline shoved the bathroom door open.

"It's over between you two. I just thought I should remind you," Hayley said as the door swung closed.

Caroline twisted her neck. "You're wasting your breath," she mumbled again, not paying attention to where she was going. The hallways were practically empty anyway.

Practically.

Caroline heard the door shut and tried returning her bleary focus to the surrounding area, but it was too late. She crashed into someone coming the other way. Had their hands not coiled around her arms, she would have collapsed backwards.

Panting, her eyes swelling with tears, Caroline looked up at her saviour.

"Klaus," she gasped. She knew she must look a right mess. Her face was probably blotchy. Her mascara was probably running. Her hair most definitely was not as sleek and perfectly waved as when she entered that cursed bathroom.

But Klaus's eyes didn't seem to take any of that in. He frowned, confused by her sudden appearance, and kept his gaze trained on hers. "Is everything alright?" he asked, and Caroline thought she heard genuine concern in his voice.

Timbre.

"I'm fine," she said. She concentrated on her breathing. It took a few shaky breaths, but eventually she was able to repeat herself without sounding crazed. "I'm fine."

Straightening, she pulled her arms from Klaus's grip. She heard the bathroom door open again and watched Klaus follow Hayley's swaying figure. With each click of her heels, Klaus's stare increasingly hardened until she was convinced he was trying to turn the future Victoria's Secret model into a statue.

When the clicks disappeared, Klaus went back to observing Caroline. "You don't look fine," he said gruffly.

"Well, I am."

"Well, I don't believe you," he argued.

"You don't have to, but it's the truth. I'm late for class." She moved around Klaus, her hand rubbing the reddening spot on her arm where his fingers dug into her.

"We're still on for today at mine, yeah?" Klaus said just before she turned a corner.

She paused and looked back at him. He smirked at her. "I'll be there by 4:00."

—

The house was larger than Caroline had anticipated. It wasn't huge. Not like Tyler's place. But it was a lot bigger than Caroline's two-bedroom. It was the lone house down a gravel road near the outskirts of town. Surrounded by sunset-coloured trees, the black shutters made the house look like it didn't belong in such a pretty place.

Caroline drove up the circular driveway, in the centre of which was a fountain that wasn't turned on. There were no other cars aside from Klaus's. She put her car in park and attempted to prepare herself for the next hour.

"You can do this," she said, killing the sputtering engine. Her whole pushing thing hadn't worked as well as she wanted it to. During her last period, she couldn't stop staring at Klaus's fingerprints on her arms. They had barely faded. It was as if he'd burned his mark into her skin. "It's just sixty minutes, then you can run home and watch bad rom-coms and forget he ever touched you."

Opening the door, she grabbed her things and walked towards the eerie house. She didn't have to wait long after she'd rung the doorbell. She heard light footsteps and a moment later a small blond child stuck her head through the door.

She surveyed Caroline reproachfully, scowling. "Who are you?"

"I'm, uh, Caroline. Is Klaus home?"

"What do you want with my brother?"

So this was Rebekah. Feisty Rebekah. "We've got a date—" Shit, no they don't. Wrong fucking word choice, Caroline. Nice job. Fucking Freudian slip. Damn it, Bonnie. "—I mean, we've, uh. . .we're partners. For a project. And we have a scheduled meeting so we can work on that project." She winced as she finally managed to shut herself up.

Rebekah smiled at her. Grinned at her. Not in a teasing way, but a pure, seven-year-old way. Her blue eyes sparkled mischievously. "Come in." She reached for Caroline's free hand—the one not holding tight to Ginger's container—and pulled her inside. "Nik's just upstairs showering."

"Showering. . ." Caroline said, taking in the entryway.

Directly in front of her was a table decorated with a magnificent plant whose leaves shot upwards like spikes. Beyond the freaky plant was a spiralling staircase coated in a glossy black sheen. To the left, a gothic kitchen breathed out the scent of freshly baked bread—do all English people make their own bread?—and to the right, a glorious, high-ceilinged lounge area with plenty of black leather sofas and a black mantel encasing a black-wood gas fireplace.

"My mum loves the colour black," Rebekah said.

"Does she?" Caroline said, spotting a black door next to the kitchen's doorway. "I hadn't noticed."

"You're funny. Come with me."

Rebekah dragged her into the lounge. They sat side by side on the sofa nearest the fireplace. Caroline noticed there was no TV in the room. But there was a giant chandelier hanging right above her head made from black shards of glass.

Caroline swallowed, wondering if she had just entered the Addams Family home. Or the When A Stranger Calls home. Or a mixture of the two.

"So, are you Klaus's girlfriend?"

Caroline saw white. She blinked, gaping at the little girl sitting cross-legged next to her. "No," she said forcefully. Rebekah's hair rippled out as the word reached her. "Just his partner for a project."

Looking slightly disappointed, Rebekah said, "Are you the one he keeps complaining about? The cheerleader?"

Klaus talked about her to his family?

Not the point, Caroline. So not the point.

"Um, yeah, that's me. The cheerleader Klaus complains about."

Rebekah nodded sagely. She tapped her chin, that grin returning in full force. "He likes you," she said bluntly.

Caroline forced out a laugh. "What? You just said yourself that all he does is complain about me!"

"Yeah, but I can tell he likes you. He complains, but his heart's not really in it. And every time he mentions you, his eyes get a little brighter. I don't remember seeing them so bright."

"I think you're confused—"

"Do you like him?"

"No. . .I mean, he's fine. I don't hate him—"

"I think you like him too," Rebekah interrupted.

This was Caroline's hell. Her perfectly designed hell: A small child insisting she and Klaus Mikaelson liked each other.

"Rebekah, who are you talking to?"

Caroline's eyes nearly went to the back of her skull when she heard Klaus's voice coming from the foyer. She felt like she had just participated in and won a triathlon.

Squealing, Rebekah shot off of the sofa and charged into the entryway. Seconds later, she returned with Klaus in tow.

Remaining where she sat, Caroline watched Klaus laugh brightly as his sister clung to him like a monkey. His damp hair—shower—looked darker than usual. The curls were thicker.

And he'd trimmed his beard back to a fine stubble.

What would it feel like to run her fingers across his jaw. . .?

"Caroline."

Caroline startled at the sound of her name. Klaus stared at her, surprised, clearly, to see her sitting on a sofa in his house.

She stood up. Too fast. The blood rushed to her head. Stars danced around the room. "Hi," she said. "Love the house. Very. . .something."

"Very something?" Klaus asked, displacing Rebekah and walking towards her. She stood her ground. "You're usually much more eloquent than that."

"I don't think words can truly describe the layout of this house."

Klaus nodded. The giddy smile from earlier was gone. In its place was the flashing smirk she knew by heart. "My sister wasn't bothering you, was she?"

Act cool, Caroline, she chided inwardly. "Oh, you know, she was telling me about all of the times my name comes out of your mouth in conversation."

"Was she now?" he said, scowling at his sister. She hid behind Klaus, pawing at the back pockets of his jeans. "I only ever talk about you to say how horrid this partnership has been. Have no fear, love."

"Don't call me that," came her automatic reply.

His smirk widened. "Look, Bekah, I've got to take this annoying girl downstairs so we can work on our project. Think you can get started on your homework?" Rebekah nodded. "And do you think you can go the whole hour Caroline will be here without disrupting us?" She nodded again. Klaus turned to Caroline. His wet eyelashes made his eyes look extra like the ocean. "Good. Come on, then. We're in the basement."

Rebekah went upstairs, Caroline and Klaus went downstairs. She followed behind him as he led her down carpeted steps to an open room. Scattered about the floor were several pieces of unfinished paintings and drawings. Leaving her on the bottom step, he spent a few seconds gathering them up and depositing them on his desk.

She watched him move about, taking in what could be nothing else other than Klaus Mikaelson's bedroom. His blue walls surprised her. As did the forest green bedspread. She expected his room to match the main level.

But she could hardly focus on everything around her, because she, Caroline Forbes, was in Klaus Mikaelson's bedroom.

It was like she had crossed over enemy lines. Been seduced by the dark side.

"All done," Klaus said, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Caroline hopped down the final step. "Nice place. You must love the solitude."

"I was very lucky that Mum let me have the basement all to myself."

"Suits your vampire ways, does it?"

"My vampire ways?"

Caroline walked to the desk and put Ginger down. Buried in the stack of drawings, Caroline thought she caught a glimpse of what looked to be the skirt of her unlucky blue dress, but Klaus snatched the pile away and stuffed them inside a desk drawer before she could take a closer look.

He leaned against the desk, trying to look casual. And people trying to look casual never actually looked casual.

What was he hiding?

"Yeah," she said, playing along. "You strike me as the up-all-night, prey-on-innocent-girls, refuse-to-step-into-the-sun type. You know, like a vampire."

"You're not very innocent," he said.

Caroline's eyebrows went up. Then they dropped low. "Are you preying on me?"

Realising what he just said, Klaus backed away. "No, no, of course not. Let's just get this damned thing over with. What's the book got us doing today?"

Deciding it was better to ignore what Klaus insinuated than to poke the bear, Caroline unzipped her backpack and dug around for the project booklet, hoping her hair hid the flush of her cheeks.

"Okay," she said, flipping to the designated page. "Today is all about postpartum complications. Fun."

"What sort of complications?" Klaus came up behind her. He smelled like body wash. Or maybe shampoo. Probably both. Guys had that thing where they couldn't use more than one bottle for all of their showering needs, right? Otherwise their masculinity card was taken away? Either way, he smelled like spiced apples and citrus. "Dear, God, what the hell is that?"

Caroline almost dropped the booklet. Her eyes swerved over the page, trying to see what Klaus was pointing at. When she found the image, she did drop the booklet. "Oh, my God, that's gross. That's gross. Why would they put that in there?"

"Seriously, what was that?" Klaus said.

"A stitched-up perennial area," Caroline said, swallowing a gag. She dipped her head and refused to turn around.

"What is the perennial area?"

"Please don't make me say it."

"I'll look it up if you don't tell me."

"Don't do that," Caroline said, spinning to face Klaus. "They'll just show you more photos."

Klaus had his phone out. "Then you tell me."

"Fine," Caroline huffed. "It's the space between the vagina and the rectum that often splits during vaginal delivery. They have to sew it up. And that's what that photograph was depicting."

Klaus's face screwed. His nose crinkled. His eyebrows met above his nose. Cute. "Why the fuck are they showing us photographs of that?"

"I guess to show people what having a baby does to your body. I mean, what guy is gonna wanna nail the chick with the perennial stitches, right?"

"Right. I feel like we should complain to the school that this project is doing more harm than good," Klaus said, a hint of his smirk returning.

"They wouldn't listen."

"No, they wouldn't." The smirk was fully there now, and it even looked as though the other side of his mouth wanted in on the fun, but Klaus stubbornly refused its request. "Let's put a Post-it over that picture and start this again. I'll go up and grab another chair. Stay here," he said, retreating up the stairs. "And don't look through any of my things!"

"I wouldn't dare invade your privacy like that!" she responded.

When she heard Klaus's footsteps above her, she sat and smacked her head into the desk.

There was too much banter. Too much eye contact. Too much noticing how he smelled. And Rebekah's words from earlier wouldn't stop buzzing inside of her ear.

Had Tyler broken her so badly that she completely forgot how to distinguish between good and bad?

Not flirting with Klaus. Good.

Flirting with Klaus, wanting to run her fingers through his damp curls, wishing she could wrap herself up in his forest green sheets. Bad, bad, bad.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

No.

Why was she so against liking Klaus? He'd already proven there was more to him than those horrible rumours said. More than scowls and smirks and black clothing.

He had been surprisingly nice to her.

He was even concerned about her this morning.

Fucking Breakfast Club.

One smile and she willingly gave herself the role of Claire Standish.

Voices from upstairs managed to pull Caroline from her internal meltdown. She frowned, not recognising the voice duelling Klaus's. Because that's what was clearly happening. A fight. A duel. Anger drifted down the stairs, heating up the room. Her natural curiosity taking over, Caroline snuck up the steps. The door was cracked. Peeking through, she got a view of the entryway.

She saw Klaus immediately.

Your eyes automatically find me in a crowded room.

Beside him, dressed in an untucked, unbuttoned shirt and slacks, was a man Caroline had never before seen. He held tight to a bottle of dark liquid. He swayed on the spot. His eyes bulged.

It must be Mr. Mikaelson. Unless this was a home invasion gone wrong.

"You're a waste," he said—slurred. "Should've left you in London."

Klaus didn't flinch. "Go back upstairs. And don't even think about going to Rebekah's room."

"You're useless," Mr. Mikaelson shouted, his closed hand knocking against Klaus's ribs.

Caroline shut her eyes, her heart pounding inside of her throat. She scrambled down to the basement. Back at Klaus's desk, she swung her head, trying to shake away the picture of Klaus's drunken father striking him. But it wouldn't go. It blended with Tyler's face, and by the time the door to the basement slammed shut, Caroline was struggling to stop herself from crying.

She never used to cry this much. She used to be strong. Unbreakable. Then Tyler had to do his best to prove that she was just like every other human being—fragile.

The flooring was carpet, so Caroline didn't hear Klaus when he reappeared. She felt him.

"Ready to get started?" he said, sounding oddly chipper.

Caroline rotated the swivel chair. She smiled tensely. "Yes. Let's talk some more about perennial stitches."

Placing the extra chair beside her, Klaus sat and grabbed his notebook from the same drawer he stuffed the drawings. And they got to work. There was no mention of the argument. No mention of Caroline's interaction with Hayley or Rebekah. No mention of her vampire comment, or of what followed her vampire comment. They worked for well over an hour filling out various quizzes and reading aloud the many, many issues that arose following birth.

When they were finished, Caroline was hoarse from speaking so much. And she was that much closer to deciding she never wanted to give birth. She packed her things while Klaus observed Ginger's paint job.

"I'll walk you out," he said, standing when she did.

"Thanks," she rasped.

He almost smiled at her. The sides of his mouth twitched. But instead he looked down and led her back up the stairs.

A dark sky met them as they exited the house. Klaus flipped on the porch light, but it didn't help much.

"Thanks," she said, "for inviting me to your lovely home."

"Oh, so it's lovely now? Not just something," he teased.

Bathed in the yellow artificial light, Klaus's face suddenly melted into weariness. Yesterday, when she woke him up in class. . .the terrified look in his eyes. It made sense to her now. All of the in-class naps. The biting anger. The cruel jokes thrown her way.

She couldn't keep looking at him. Caroline bid goodnight and walked to her car. Behind her, the door to Klaus's home closed.

She sat in her car for a minute and willed herself not to cry. If she started now, she wouldn't stop, and driving with tears blurring her vision was a bad idea. Eventually, the wave of sadness passed to the back of her mind. It would stay there with all of the other unexpressed emotions until she let it out.

"Good," she said, sticking the key in the ignition. "Now let's go home."

But the car didn't start. The engine screamed and she yanked the key out with shaking fingers.

"Don't do this to me," she threatened. "Don't."

It did it again.

Caroline groaned. She looked at the house. The porch light still shone.

It wasn't like she had much of a choice.

Climbing out, she went to the front door and knocked.

"Miss me already, love?" Klaus said upon opening the door. He must have seen her through the peephole.

"Car won't start," she explained.

Pressing his lips together and nodding, Klaus retreated from the doorway. He returned a moment later, pushing past Caroline and beckoning her to follow. "Come on, then."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"Home." He lifted his hand. His keys jingled. Pressing a button on the remote, the lights on his car flashed.

Caroline didn't argue. She got inside Klaus's car and buckled herself in. He started the engine, which purred as it came to life.

They drove in silence. Heat from the vents warmed Caroline's bare arms. She kept her eyes forward, directing Klaus when needed. She pretended not to notice when she felt his eyes on her. It was easier that way.

She didn't live far from Klaus. Nowhere in Mystic Falls was far away from anything other than actual civilisation. They pulled up to her house within ten minutes, and Caroline spent a moment making sure she had everything before she reached for the door handle.

"Thank—"

"Did you hear my dad?" Klaus said.

Caroline sat back against the seat. She turned her head and found Klaus glaring at her. "Only a little," she said.

"I'm sorry. He's not been himself lately. He just lost his job and he's not used to staying at home all day."

"Don't worry about it," she said, swallowing around the lump in her throat. She cracked a weak smile. "I get it. Tomorrow, we can work here instead. How's that?"

"I like your house," he said, his gaze softening the smallest amount. "I especially like the snacks you put out."

"I'll grab some more pita bread and hummus on the way home tomorrow," Caroline laughed, reaching again for the handle.

"Goodnight, Caroline," Klaus whispered.

It was the second time he'd used her real name that day. Caroline's smile grew a little stronger. "Goodnight, Klaus."