Anonymous asked: Can you do a drabble of like, "extended scenes" in one of Klaroline's existing moments we saw on tv? Like, what I mean by that is, things that you think happened "offscreen", like, between the scenes we got to see on tv? sorry my english isn't very good
She was lying on the ground, where Tyler had left her, her breath heavy and her vacant gaze fixed on the ceiling.
He couldn't bear to watch her. He found he couldn't even bear not to.
She was going to die. This was a fact.
It was his decision, another piece of evidence of the ultimate power he held about life and death.
But the initial rush of power had immediately made way to another sensation that he had had to turn off, to distance himself from in order to do what he did next. Focus on Tyler. Watch the expression on his face, revel in the begging, knowing he'd be denied, no matter what he offered.
But he'd made the mistake of listening to her words, of looking at her face.
He'd been relieved when they left.
But now she was back.
Tyler thought he could get to him like this, that he could manipulate him into saving her. This was not even an option at this point.
No matter how much the sound of her breathing crushed him every second of this.
He thought about just ripping out her heart and ending it once and for all.
The thought almost made him nauseous.
He couldn't leave her on the ground like this. She didn't deserve to die this way.
She didn't deserve to die in the first place.
Kol, he needed to keep his mind fixed on the burnt-in picture of his dying brother. Killed by the bloody doppelganger. His hybrids.
The one thing he'd wanted for almost a thousand years of his live.
But instead all he saw, all he could think of was the fact that she was there with him, suffering, dying, lying to his feet, too weak to even lift herself up onto one of the sofas.
Why wasn't she saying anything?
He was prepared for her begging for her life (he'd heard it a thousand times), he was prepared for crying , he was prepared for anything but this silence.
It was as if he wasn't even there for her.
It made him all the more furious, desperate.
There was no desperation. He was only desperate when nobody saw him. He was only desperate when it came to himself.
She would die like this, dying alone, silently, on the ground.
She did not deserve this.
So he bowed down and gathered her in his arms (please don't say anything) and carried her to the sofa (her smell, the sound she made, moaning in pain, the feel of her body against his).
He laid her down, softly, carefully, and she looked at him.
Her eyes were clear for a moment. She was not begging. Just disappointment, sadness and a sense of maturity unknown to him up until now.
Bloody fucking-
He made his place by the door, as far away as possible.
He already felt his resolve dissolving. This would not be happening. He had snapped his sisters neck.
He could not give in.