Disclaimer: I do not own the Vampire Diaries.
A/N: Ah! Reviews, reviews! I love them! You're all inspirational. I've been getting chapters up quicker because of you all! Hope you like this. . . (:
Fourteen
AJ was aware of an enveloping warmth running the length of her body, tucked up close to her, making her feel weightless as she lay curled up on her side. Her eyelids felt heavy with the desire to sleep; her mind was lifting itself from a place where a certain vampire's hot touch had traced its way over her body, leaving her restless with longing. She shifted to her other side, wishing to return to such a place.
The soft, rhythmic roar of waves could be heard in the distance; like a dreamscape lullaby, yet one she knew did not belong in any of her escapes. She barely opened her eyes, her dark lashes fringed in her vision, to absorb the mattress and pillow she lay upon. Soft blankets were pulled up to her chin, keeping the cold air that caressed her face from purloining her body heat.
The mattress came from heaven, itself.
In her languid state, she allowed her eyes to close once more, sighing in delightful satisfaction. No more running. Just sleep. Sleep was oh so wonderful. She could remain in the peaceful, heavy-lidded state for eternity.
His voice came to her softly. So soft, she thought she might've slipped into a dream once more.
"Love?"
A warm, calloused hand met the soft skin on her cheek, brushing a dark lock of hair away from her eyes with a thumb. The skin, albeit rough, retained a soft texture, making her sigh again. It was the same hand from her dream; the same touch that had made her—
She nearly toppled off the bed in shock. Bolting upright, her forehead connected with his; she winced away as the throbbing pain settled in, then peeked up to see him from where he sat on the edge of the bed.
There really wasn't any way to tell if Klaus was scowling or smirking. Or a combination of the two.
"I was only checking on you," he said, rubbing at his forehead. "Didn't mean to startle you."
"That's what you always say," she quipped wearily. Looking down at herself, she realized she was only in a flimsy tank and boy-short panties. Quickly, she snatched up the blankets that'd become disentangled from her and covered herself, giving him a hard glare, a scowl on her lips. "I seriously should stake you for undressing me! Really, Klaus? God, I thought even you knew boundaries!"
He almost looked perplexed. "You undressed yourself, darling. Quite clumsily, if I might add. Not that I peeked or anything. You were quite adamant that I turn around." At her disbelieving look, he became incredulous. "You really don't remember? Perhaps you hit your head harder than I thought."
"Hit my head? What are you talking about?"
Now that he mentioned it, there was an odd ringing in her ears. Her head felt foggy. She lifted a hand to her temple and felt a jolt of pain like lightning run through her head, making her nerves scream. Pulling her hand back she saw flakes of dried blood on it.
"What happened?" she asked, bewildered.
Klaus was very grave, making her stomach flip with anxiety. "It was a few short hours after we left Mystic Falls. An occult member—I would swear it was one, at least—somehow tracked us. Don't you remember stopping in Chicago?"
"No," she said slowly, even as she tried digging through her muddled thoughts. "I don't remember that."
"I see." He brought his hand to her head and, very delicately, examined the wound. "I wanted to wait until you woke to heal you. I didn't think it'd be all that pleasant otherwise."
"What happened in Chicago?" She tried ignoring his warm touch. It only brought back memories of the dreams; false memories of him, yet painfully pleasurable ones. "Did it… attack us?"
He sighed deeply, frowning. "I left you in Gloria's bar for a short moment to see if she'd returned yet. She didn't. When I came back, it was there."
She watched him carefully. "What did you do?"
"Killed it," he said simply, but she saw the anger quickly cross his features before it disappeared.
She gave a small nod, looking down at the flecks of blood in her hand. It was strange she had no recollection whatsoever of even being in Chicago; or especially being attacked. At least they were no longer being tracked. Brushing away the dried blood, she glanced around the room.
They were inside a house, but it didn't look to be very large. There was a large window across from the bed, shrouding away any sunlight with heavy drapes drawn together tightly. By the way a ruddiness of grey light poured from the sides, she knew it was daytime. An armchair was shoved up against the window, a small table and lamp beside it, spilling a glow of light into the darkened room. Other furniture was strewn together in the room, seemingly at random, and a lot looked cleared out. A set of old French doors on her left lead into a kitchen of sorts; the white paint that bordered it was chipped in certain places.
The soft churn of rolling waves could still be heard, almost beckoning now. It was coming from outside. She gave Klaus a curious look.
"Where exactly are we?"
"West coast," he said, looking towards the covered window as if he could see outside. "Oregon, to be precise."
Her eyes went wide. She pulled the blankets tighter around her, suddenly feeling colder. "What are we doing in Oregon?"
"Seeing that my dear father wants to drive a stake through my heart, I thought it best we not stay in any place he'll think to look for me in," Klaus said with grim amusement.
AJ's mouth parted. "Your father—he wants to kill you? Why would he want to do that?"
His face immediately went impassive. "Long story."
A flashback of the dream she'd had in that room above Gloria's bar played out in her head. Mikael had looked nearly intent on killing Klaus, back when they'd been human. Would that only have amplified when they'd become vampires?
She stole a glance at Klaus, who seemed rigid and tense as he gazed at the curtains as he was lost in thought, sitting on the edge of the bed. Another memory stole at her, and she could feel a ghost of the way his soft lips had been on hers with a needful passion, the way his hands had touched her, and she wanted to melt.
Swallowing hard, she placed a hand on his forearm, bringing him out of his thoughts.
"You know you can talk to me," she said quietly. "Besides, you brought me all the way to Oregon. Give me some credit."
His gaze was piercing even with the lack of lighting. "You didn't have to come if you didn't want to."
"I'm not saying that I didn't want to," she danced around that topic quickly. "I'm just saying… you can talk to me. Trust me."
A muscle jumped in his jaw. "I don't know that trust is something we should be discussing. All things considered."
"Klaus," she said sadly, running her hand down his arm to slip it over his in a way that seemed almost bizarrely natural, except for the way it made her heart flutter "I'm sorry. I guess… I'm really not the best at telling the truth all the time. But neither are you."
His gaze flicked to the pendant resting at the base of her throat. "Are you still angry?"
"Are you?" she asked quietly.
He stood, crossing his arms as he went to stand before the window. The soft glow of the lamp cast strange shadows on his features. "I'm not sure."
AJ sighed, not moving from her place. "I know that I said you could trust me and I lied to you. Well I didn't exactly lie to you, but—"
"You still didn't tell me," he finished quietly, the faintest edge to his voice.
She crossed her arms, annoyance swelling in her chest. "Just like you skirted around telling me about this necklace," she pointed out. "I'm not going to feel totally guilty for something we both did."
He faced her, lips pulled tight, eyes unreadable. "Perhaps you're right. But even now that I've had time to consider things, I'm not entirely sure what to make of them."
He didn't have to say what he meant for her to understand perfectly. It'd only been on her mind since she woke, and even before she woke; her subconscious had catered to the thought too much. The way she kissed him—the way he'd kissed her. As much as she tried to ignore it, the heat on her cheeks was obvious. Ducking her head, she pretended to curl up into the blankets more, resting her head on the pillow. She stared at the ceiling.
"You're wondering where all this leaves us," she stated, inflectionless.
Klaus returned to her side. She knew by the shift in the mattress; he was very close to her. The heat of his body, even inches away, warmed her more than any amount of blankets could.
"It crossed my mind."
Sighing lightly, she could feel his eyes on her, as if just by looking at her, he was brushing his fingertips over her skin. It sent a shudder down her spine. She hoped he deduced it to the cold.
She didn't even realize she'd grasped the sun pendant in her hand until she registered the strange cool peace it emanated into her palm; almost the way a piece of glass would feel upon initially grasping it. She peered down at it.
"I know what this is," she spoke quietly, trying hard to avoid his eyes. "But I'm not certain what it means, exactly."
He paused. "You touch it even when you don't mean to. Like it gives you comfort."
"Meaning?"
"I suppose this is when you tell me."
Closing her eyes, she sucked in a breath. "Rebekah explained to me what it means to—to accept this." She figured 'this' was better than saying 'love token'. Although, speaking in vague terms was becoming exhaustive. "And… well, I didn't exactly accept it, now did I? It's not as if I can take it off, either. I mean, we've both seen what happens…"
She could feel his rigidness even through the amount of space that separated them. "So you mean to say that you don't accept it. You wish not to wear it, though you simply must to preserve your life."
Biting the inside of her lip, she exhaled softly. "No," she admitted quietly. "That's not what I mean to say. It's just—I don't know, Klaus. I don't know."
She could feel his touch even before he touched her, where his hand hovered over the bare skin of her arm, left exposed from the blanket. His fingertips skimmed over her lightly, running from shoulder to hand. She had to close her eyes to hide the surge of emotions it sent through her, and clench her hand into a fist to control her urges. He took note, and entangled his fingers within hers, watching her curiously.
"Look at me." It wasn't a demand, but it wasn't something to be ignored.
AJ opened her eyes. It was so easy to find his; so easy that it scared her. She said nothing; only stared.
"You told me something, once. Back up in the mountains. That we have something in common—our state of seclusion from others, because of what we are. Because we are the one and only of our kind."
She nodded. "Yes, I remember that. I still believe it."
He seemed to be on the verge of speaking again, but shook his head instead, clamping his mouth shut.
Sitting up, the blankets fell to her lap. She didn't care. She pulled herself closer to him with their intertwined hands. "What about that? What is it?"
Offering no explanation, he pulled his hand from hers. His gaze momentarily rose to her forehead, where the blood had dried over at her temple. "You need to be healed."
"Klaus," she implored, still grasping at their fragile moment. "Klaus, I don't care about being healed. What were you going to say?"
He pushed himself up onto the bed more, close to the headboard, leaning against it. The bed was larger than she initially realized; quite large, in fact. He beckoned her to him after tearing open the vein in his wrist.
She sat a moment, thinking back to another time he'd offered his blood. Nerves tightened in her chest.
"Don't you get tired of cutting open your wrist?" she asked softly, edging towards him. Her heartbeat picked up, rising so that she felt it in her throat. Images of her dreams rose in her mind. Bad idea bad idea bad idea, were her only coherent thoughts.
Klaus pressed his lips together, studying her. The blanket, thin as it was, had been discarded very easily. An immense amount of skin was exposed. He tried looking away, to no avail. "However tedious it may be for others, I don't mind. You need to be healed."
She nodded, watching as the cut healed itself slowly; revealing flawless skin within moments. A very short distance was left between them; one filled with a certain magnetism. She raised an eyebrow. "Maybe I do need to be healed. But you don't have to cut your wrist to do that. You've said before that you'd prefer… somewhere else."
Gritting his teeth together, he stared at her. "Whatever games you may be playing, I hardly find it very fair, given the circumstances. You're clothes are on the armchair behind you. Get dressed. Then I'll heal you."
Paying no mind to his words, she continued until her knees were touching his thighs. In her thin tank and panties, she felt as exposed as she ever had been in front of Klaus. But it only seemed to urge her on. She leaned forward, running a finger down the sensitive skin on his neck, watching his eyes as she did. He was hiding behind his mask.
Then she leaned forward, giving no thought to foresight in this situation. Her lips grazed his neck. He stiffened.
"Wouldn't you agree I'd have better…access here?" She knew she was pushing the limits, but that Klaus maybe wanted to be pushed. Or maybe not. Maybe this was a terribly awful idea. There was only one way to find out.
"AJ…" He gave her a pleading look. But she saw what she needed to, to move forward.
It was only a moment before she was straddling him, her hands resting on his taut, muscled shoulders. The pleading look was crumbling. This was not something she, herself, had anticipated. Still, a strong sensation of desire erupted in her, and she couldn't tear herself away.
She ran her fingers over the angles of his face; something she dared not to do before. He was beautiful, doubtlessly, without match.
He made no move to stop her. Actually, she was surprised he wasn't goading her forward. This was what he wanted, wasn't it? To finally have her, as his and only his? But—was this what she wanted? A day ago, she'd kissed him. Could she be so sure?
Yet the emotions stirred within her seemed doubtless. Had she ever felt this way with Elijah? No. That was the simple answer. No. And she didn't want to wonder what that meant. Not now.
She rested her hands on his chest, feeling the lean muscle hidden beneath his shirt. Sliding her hands up around his neck, she pulled herself closer to him, carefully placing a kiss on his jaw. Her lips grazed slight stubble.
It seemed to finally entice a reaction from him. His hands slid up the naked skin of her legs until they came to rest on her hips, firm and gripping. The feeling of his skin on hers, with no barriers there, felt exhilarating. His eyes no longer were withholding, but burning with the same fire as hers.
He leaned up and stole her mouth with his, pulling her closer to him by her hips. She wanted to moan in pleasure. If this much of his touch was already euphoric, what would happen if they went further?
Returning his kisses was easy. It was the self-restraint she had to apply to keep from letting him have her completely that was hard.
His tongue slid over her bottom lip and as she moaned, her lips parted; he seized entrance. He had one hand firmly grasping her hip, pulling her down onto him; the other was cupping her face, thumb brushing over her cheekbone. She sunk down onto him, feeling him through the fabric of his jeans, and her heart gave a jolt. Pressing closer, she wrapped her arms around his neck first, and then tangled them into his hair.
She gave a start when he flipped them over; he was now dominating her, in control. Although he held a hand out to hold himself over her, she could feel his body press onto hers. The need to remove all barriers overcame her, and she freed her hands from his hair, skimming them down his chest to the hem of his shirt. Slipping them under, she felt the heat of his body on her palms. Then she pulled at the hem, revealing his chiseled chest as she inched it upwards. Finally, he swiftly pulled it over his head himself, tossing it to the floor. Resuming his place, he kissed her down to her neck, nipping at the skin, making her dig her fingernails into his shoulder blades as jolts of pleasure tore through her and she arched her body into his. She gave a gasp, her eyelids fluttering.
Never before did she want someone to take control of her, to take away her power. There'd never been a time when she completely yearned for it. Until now.
Their fervor only increased. He ran his hands over her body, exploring her. His lips never stopped moving against her neck, up to her jaw, back to her mouth. Everywhere he was burned fire, leaving his touch behind in wake; its embers smoldering on her skin. His fingers skimmed under her tank top, running farther up to brush her belly button, her ribs, making her body ache in a way it never had before. She craved him with such intensity that it shocked her. His strong, gently, dominate touch elicited small gasps of pleasure from her.
There was still too much separating them.
She moved to pull her own tank over her head, but his hands came down on hers, precluding them from moving. He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing labored, eyes closed.
AJ studied his face. "Why are you stopping?"
"Because," he said with a shaky breath, a small strain in his voice. "You need to be healed."
"You don't need to stop for that," she said with a hint of exasperation. Leaning up, she placed a kiss on his stubbled jaw, running her hands down his bare chest.
"AJ, I'm not giving you an option. Your head wound could be interfering with your way of thinking, for all I know."
She stopped completely and pulled back, searching his face. "You think—you think I'm delirious? That I don't want this?"
He sighed. "It was only yesterday that you—"
"That I kissed you?" She finished, cringing at the edge in her voice. "Yes, Klaus. I'm pretty sure I didn't have any problems with my head then. You want to know what else I did yesterday? I admitted to Elijah that things have changed—between us. You and me. And you know what he did? He left me. Do you still think I'm not choosing this?"
Klaus stared at her silently, guarded. "I think I should heal you."
"Fine," she groaned. "Heal me. But it doesn't change anything."
"I should hope not." He smiled down at her; a smile that made her insides squirm with bliss; that made her long for him, long to return to their feverish kissing that had been sure to go somewhere else. By no means was it a pleasant, friendly smile. No, it was dark, but a passionate kind of dark.
No matter how many times she'd argued that making a small incision in his neck would be more convenient for him, he'd settled on the other side of her and tore open his wrist. Beautiful crimson had begun to pool, and she had leaned forward to taste the addicting blood.
She watched as he moved from the bed, crossing to the window. He pulled open the curtains, allowing grey watery light to spill inside the dim room. Her eyes were only focused on him, his bare chest, his fluid movements, the way the muscles moved under his skin. She couldn't get over the feeling of being rejected so easily. Since when wasn't Klaus teasing her with innuendo? How many times had he made a point that he wanted to get his hands on her?
But her senses were quickly returning to her. What did she care?
Suddenly, she wished she didn't think of that question.
Her eyes shifted from him to the scene outside, and widened. She stood, stopping for a quick moment to pull his shirt on over her head, even though it was obviously too big for her, and went to the window.
It'd been several years since she'd been on a beach, but never had she seen one quite like this. The pale sand was dotted with large, jagged boulders that spread outward until some were getting brushed by the tide. A white tumble of waves rolled in, mesmerizing and beautiful. There was a mist resting over the water, stretching out until she could hardly see the beach on either side of them. Just barely in view was a marina down the right of the shore, docked with countless boats. Beyond that, she could see the dark tops of old buildings.
"We're in Oregon," she said slowly, folding her arms over her chest to stay warm. "But where exactly in Oregon are we?"
"Astoria," he answered, his eyes skimming over her body furtively. "Easy enough to lay low here. Although if you continue to dress like that…" He smirked.
AJ made no move to cover herself any more than she had. She wanted him to see what he refused. "And if I continue to dress like this, I'm sure someone would be more than willing to undress me," she muttered on her way to the kitchen. Shoving through the French doors, she looked around curiously.
Klaus followed her, frowning. "AJ," he said. When she ignored him, he stopped in front of her, grabbing her face in his hands. "AJ."
That was all it took to send the memories flooding back into her mind. AJ. She was back in Gloria's bar. The funky sign had still been lit in neon, but the bar itself had been completely empty; eerie. Dust motes had drifted through the air, making it seem almost abandoned. Klaus had turned to her, telling her to wait for a moment while he looked for the witch.
She had waited, leaning up against the railings that separating the booths from the actual bar area. People passed by the windows, going to and fro in a hurry. Her back had been to the door, but she heard it open behind her, or maybe sensed it. Thinking Gloria had returned, she turned to greet the witch. Only it hadn't been Gloria.
There weren't many facial features to get an actual distinction for who she saw, except that she knew she recognized the woman; her eyes, to be more specific. It wasn't until the woman chose to speak that AJ had realized from where.
Dissonantly stony screams. Cries of pure agony and anguish, a tumult of noise surrounding her, surging towards her. They'd pushed her from her body. But one voice in particular, one scream, had stood out among the others. A woman had been warning her. Her soft, dulcet voice had turned to one of desperation and fear. The woman had warned her there in the gym, before she nearly died, when Elena sobbed over her and Klaus felt God-knows-what.
That woman had latched on to AJ's arm, tried telling her something in an important hush. She'd said AJ, before saying her true name. Alexandra. Klaus had returned to the bar area, then, as if cued to. She could see the threat in the woman's stance, how it could be perceived that way. But that wasn't what AJ saw. That wasn't what she knew. Before AJ could salvage the situation, things spun out of control.
The woman had pushed AJ behind her in defense, but AJ's head had connected with the corner of the wall after she stumbled over her feet. She'd fallen to the floor, eyes raised, mouth open to say something.
But she hadn't been able to tell Klaus. Klaus had already killed her mother. Her already dead mother.
AJ. Alexandra.
So please give me your thoughts? What did you think of our AJ/Klaus? He simply makes me want him, now that I've proofread it several times. Goodness. But he's holding back, isn't he? Where is our dark, seizing Klaus that doesn't take no for an answer, that doesn't stop? Why did AJ let her instincts take over? Ha, I hope this chapter isn't too confusing. Is it totally annoying that I put my own plot in here, whilst including the romance. Is the romance wanted more, the plot wanted less? Or is it balanced just enough? Reviews are so deeply appreciated! (: