Anonymous asked you: That Drabble you posted about Caroline and drawing in Klaus' drawing book. Could you by any chance continue it but in Klaus' POV where he goes to draw in his book and finds the drawing that Caroline drew? :)

here you go love, i died of feels writing this.

His hunger for death and destruction had decreased rapidly ever since he had her.

Granted, it was still there, pent-up inside, but it wasn't as violently untamed as it had been before. The one thing he had learned through the years with her was to take it out on the right target.

His position of king required him to generate loyalty in his underlings, using both charm and fear to his advantage, manipulating them into whatever position he desired. That took care of some of it.

Of course the feeding did, too, as it always had.

He was no saint and she knew it. Well, she had never seen the full extent of it, but still.

Most of the times she was enough to quench his thirst, in every way.

But sometimes, rarely, there came a time when he needed a reminder of who he was. Of the demon lingering inside him, always ready to take over in case he needed to. He had been abandoned, betrayed, deceived for a thousand years.

She made him vulnerable and he had found his peace with but still – just in case.

He needed to be safe. So the monster in him was ready to return and take over, just in case.

God forbid, he would never be able to hurt her, even if she left him, even if she betrayed him, even if (just if) all of this had been nothing but a farce, not at this point in time.

But the rest if the world would suffer. He'd wreak havoc on everyone involved, on everyone he met, take it out on everyone that had ever wronged him (at least those that could still be counted among the living).

Sometimes he needed to take a look at the beast, to revel in the darkness, just to see that it was still there. And today was one of those days.

So he took out the book from where he kept in and carefully pulled it out of its plastic wrapping.

There was a reason why he kept it there, hidden, but not out of her reach.

In the beginning of their relationship his main objective had been to woo her, to convince her that he was right for her, good enough for her. He'd only shown her his best side, tried to give her everything she desired, bent over backwards for her in a way that even now a part of him could only call foolish.

At some point that had changed.

At some point his perspective had shifted. The thought had entered his mind that maybe he wasn't.

She was so full of light, radiating beauty and a peculiar sense of untouchable purity – although she was most definitely not to be considered any kind of 'pure' in the bedroom – that startled him.

Over the years she had grown accustomed to killing if it was necessary. It came with the lifestyle they led – it was unavoidable sometimes. And he'd watched in awe how easy it had been for her to just turn off the remorse. To just accept the facts.

She'd also started feeding on humans – mostly willing ones nonetheless, in a compulsion free manner, always providing them with a bit of her blood in return. If she ever left him Damon Salvatore would be the first to get a taste of his long since abandoned torture-preferences.

She reveled in being a vampire.

And despite this, despite the look in her eyes when she fed with blood shooting up under her eyes (something that made him go hard right on spot, especially when she was feeding on him), how easily and effectively she killed and accepted that for a moment she liked it – the light remained.

The humanity, the pureness, it was an inextinguishable fire that seemed to grow with every bit of harsh, violent reality she was faced with, accepted as part of her and matured through.

She was a contradiction.

She was an addiction.

He could never have enough of her.

But the more he learned about her the more the doubt started creeping in.

She deserved better.

He'd put himself first, always, in every respect, especially when he wanted something as much as he wanted her.

But with her he couldn't.

There had been many instances that he'd tried to show her, show her what he was truly like.

The beast, the monster, the killer, the ruthless and merciless demon.

And each time he'd expected her to leave. Instead she'd stayed, every time.

And at some point he'd stopped.

The thought never left his mind, though.

So he kept the book where he did, randomly making its existence known to her from time to time, to give her one last chance to escape.

One day she'd find it. And when she'd leave without any explanation he'd know why.

So when he turned the page to see her smile his world shattered around in him in one swift instance.

There was a drawing.

There was a drawing she had done, he recognized her style instantly, the lines those of an amateur, but a perfectionist one.

A drawing of him.

He couldn't move, staring down at the paper, unable to process the information.

She was gone.

She'd been there this morning.

She'd woken up beside him.

He'd seen her minutes ago.

Instantly he rushed to her room, throwing open her door in a careless, violent motion, making it shake in its angles.

She jumped in shock, on her feet instantly, looking at him.

Then she frowned.

"Nik, what's wrong?"

She was still here.

He didn't move.

He had to be hallucinating.

She approached him, her frown deepening. "Nik, what happened?"

He stared down at her hand as she placed it on his arm and then back at her face, for once lost for what to do.

"You saw it," he heard himself say, his voice distant, like an echo in his own head.

She looked at him questioningly, then suddenly, realization hit her and a small, knowing smile spread on her face.

She placed her other hand on his chest.

"Yes."

He didn't move.

"When?"

Her smile didn't falter.

"A few months ago."

A few months ago. She'd known for a few months.

"You're still here."

She nodded, raising her hand to his cheek.

"Yes."

The word echoed in his mind and he seemed unable to place its meaning. No matter what scenario he'd imagined, this hadn't been a possibility. His mind had to make room for it but it fought against the idea, desperately. Deep, primal fear shook him. No. This couldn't be a possibility.

If he let her in now, if he took this final step, there wouldn't be a way to recover as soon as she left him.

If he did as much as entertain the possibility he'd be lost forever if he failed.

"Why?"

She let out a small laugh, pulling his face down to hers and he could feel her breath on his lips.

"Why wouldn't I be? I thought you knew me better than this. A little blood and gore is nothing I can't take."

He wanted this to be real, more than anything he'd ever wanted.

He shut down.

No.

Immediately, all the emotion drained from his face, his head, his soul.

He took a step back, away from her touch.

"No," he said, his voice clear and hard. "You have to leave."

Her eyes widened, the frown returning to her face.

"Take whatever you want, leave now," he said, turning on his heels to leave the room.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

He heard her voice behind him, it didn't reach him.

She caught up with him, attempting to drag him back, grasping his arm but he didn't move an inch, shaking her off and continuing his path out of the room.

"You fucking bastard! Is that what you've been doing the whole time? Trying to get rid of me? Is that what you're doing?"

He turned towards her. Her face was contorted in anger.

"Yes. I've grown tired of you." Despite himself the words cut into him like a blade but he kept it off of his expression and out of his voice. He forced a menacing smirk onto his face, raising his eyebrows. "Look, love, it's been entertaining. You're not that bad of a lay. But every good time has its end so would you please stop throwing a tantrum and leave before I have to make you."

She stared up at him, shocked again.

"I can't believe this," she whispered, barely audible.

Then, suddenly, she laughed, almost manically.

"Am I supposed to start crying and run out of here, out of your life, like a little girl with hurt feelings? Am I supposed to actually believe this?" she laughed again. He didn't move.

Then she shook her head, smirking up at him. Suddenly she moved, pushing him forward but he didn't budge again.

"You fucking bastard! You little insecure piece of shit! You were actually going to ruin all we have because of your stupid man pain!"

She was not going to get through to him. He had to end this situation, now.

"You're a fucking thousand years old and you're gonna let ME be the adult in this, seriously?!"

She laughed again, then grabbed his face with her hands, yanking it down roughly, staring into his eyes.

She was not going to get through to him.

She smiled at him and it this moment she was more of an adult, more of a woman than he'd ever seen in anybody.

"I am not going to let you throw this away."

Love is a vampire's greatest weakness.

"Or are you seriously trying to tell me that I am not worth it? I know why you do this. You think you're doing this for me, but in fact you're doing this for yourself."

Her hand started caressing his face and as much as he wanted to rip it away he couldn't bring himself to move.

"You're afraid that I will leave, that I will hurt you."

He felt his defenses cracking, desperately he tried to regain his composure but he found that he couldn't. He knew his face betrayed him and the primal fear found its way in again.

She shook her head softly, smiling softly.

"Niklaus Mikaelson, I love you and I will stay with you, forever."

No.

"Now get that into that stupid infantile head of yours and be the man I know you are."

She raised her lips to his and the moment he felt her touch his shield broke and this time he knew it was beyond repair.

Despite himself he felt a single tear roll down his cheek and his hands moved on their own, grabbing her, pulling her into him with so much force that he was afraid he would break her.

The spell was broken.

And instinctively he knew his mind had already made space for what should have been his long ago.