Sunlight was streaming into the living room, burning as it hit her eyelids. Everything hurt. Her head was pounding; she felt like she was in one of those old Roadrunner cartoons, and she was Wile E. Coyote, who had just gotten an anvil dropped on his head. It took her a few minutes of being awake, her eyes still closed, to mentally prepare herself to open them and face inevitable pain that would come with.
Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, the pounding in her head increased tenfold. She fought the urge to groan. Slowly, she moved her head around, squinting as her eyes adjusted, trying to gain her bearings. Nothing was coming back to her from last night, the last thing she could clearly remember was sitting next to him beside the pool after she'd sung the song for him. Had they kissed after that? Had they done more? She was drawing a complete blank.
Cami looked down at herself and was surprised to find that she was actually more fully clothed now than she had been from the last thing she remembered from that night. She recalled being in only her bra and underwear then, and now she was wearing an incredibly soft set of pajamas which definitely didn't belong to her.
She was laying on the couch, she knew that much for sure. But as she slowly sat up, fighting the urge to vomit, she found that she had been laying her head in someone's lap. And that the person attached to that lap was still sound asleep.
Her nausea increased exponentially as her stomach dropped into her feet. Had she slept all night like that? Had Klaus said that that was alright, or had she just thrown herself onto him in a disgusting and desperate manner?
As she relaxed slightly, her stomach growing calmer with each passing second, she studied him closely. For an immortal with supersonic hearing, she was surprised that he hadn't woken up yet. He too was wearing more clothes than he was from the last thing she remembered last night. He had on a pair of flannel pajama pants, and she watched as his tummy rose and fell with each breath beneath the fabric of his long sleeve henley.
Cami brushed her hair out of her face and wiped her eyes, cringing as she saw the mascara smudges on the back of her hand. She was sure she looked a mess.
As quietly as she could, she got up from the couch, hoping she wouldn't wake him in the process. She desperately didn't want to leave, it was fascinating to watch him sleep, but it was more important to her to make sure she didn't look like a clown with melted face paint.
She knew she was in a parlor on the second floor, and knew there had to be a bathroom around here somewhere, she just hoped she could find it without puking first. Moving and walking seemed to have made her nausea return, so she reminded herself that she should drink a full glass of water when she got to the bathroom.
There was one at the last door on the right. She closed and locked the door behind her, keeping the light off. She ran the cold water in the sink, scooping handfuls of it into her mouth and alternately splashing it onto her face, rubbing away the black streaks of mascara that had started to run. She sprinkled some of the water into her hair, smoothing it against her head. After a few more gulps of water and one last rinse of her face, she stepped back to take a good look at herself in the mirror. Disaster. That's all she could see. Dark circles, remnants of last night's makeup, bloodshot eyes, a distinct green tinge from feeling like she might puke at any given moment.
She desperately rifled through the medicine cabinet, the various drawers at the sink, looking for anything that might make her look less nasty. Crestfallen, she came up empty handed, although she wasn't quite sure what she was expecting to find in the first place. She would just have to pluck up her courage and go back out there.
When she came back to the parlor, he was still sleeping. In comparison to how rough she looked, he looked perfect, his face serene. It was amazing to see him so vulnerable, the supposed Big Bad Scary Hybrid sleeping and dreaming and lightly snoring just like anybody else. And she felt even worse because she knew she looked horrendous in comparison.
If she could leave now without him seeing, she would. But she knew her apartment was too far to walk. She could call a cab, but she'd have to go get her purse and her phone, and she didn't know where they were. Downstairs, she realized, still by the pool.
She crept downstairs, across the house to the back door. Flashes of the night were coming back to her now, milliseconds of scenes that she could see play out before her. Klaus taking her back inside, his laugh, the smell of whiskey on his breath. But she still couldn't remember exactly what they'd done, if they'd done anything at all.
On the pool deck, her dress was still crumpled up in a pile on the ground, her shoes not far away from it. She stepped out into the morning air, grabbed her clothes and her purse before heading back upstairs for the bathroom. She took off the foreign pajamas, folding them neatly and setting them on the counter before stepping back into her dress. Her feet were still aching from wearing them the night before, so she was going to carry them for as long as possible.
She took the pajamas with her as she returned to the parlor. "Good morning, sunshine," Klaus said. She was startled to see he was awake, hoping that she'd have even just a second more of watching how beautiful he was when he was asleep. And then she was glad he was awake because she felt incredibly creepy for thinking that.
Pangs of jealousy hit her as she took him in; he looked completely fine, like he hadn't just had a night of intense heavy drinking and had instead spent the night drinking cocoa and going to bed at eight thirty. "Good morning," she said.
"Do you have time for breakfast? I make a wonderful eggs benedict."
She thought about it for a minute; she wanted nothing more than to watch him cook, to have him eat breakfast with her, to spend more time with him. But she really had to go to work today, and she desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes.
"I should really get going," she said apologetically. "Rain check?"
He smiled. "Sure. Let me get changed and we'll get going."
She sat on the couch as he got up and left the room, taking the time to check her phone. There was a message from Davina. I'm sorry I was so critical of you last night, it said, Just want you to be careful. You're smart, Cami, I'm just worried about you.
Cami knew that the witch meant well, but her impulse was to reply with a Go f*ck yourself. Instead she replied with nothing because there was really nothing else to say.
Klaus came back a few minutes later, wearing the same shirt he had been earlier and a pair of jeans. "Ready?" he asked, car keys in hand. She nodded and stood, still carrying her shoes.
The entire drive back to her apartment was in complete silence. Since she couldn't remember anything about last night, she wasn't sure what to say. She wanted to ask what had happened, but she would be mortified if he replied with a smug, "You don't remember?" She closed her eyes and tried to come up with anything that might come back to her, still coming up mostly empty. And he sure didn't seem to be willing to offer any clues as to what might have gone on.
Her stomach was still churning as they drove, partially from the car's movements and partly from nerves. She wished she could calm herself, that she didn't feel so anxious. Because she couldn't stop hoping that when they pulled up in front of her apartment, he would kiss her, and that even if they had kissed last night, she could count this as their first one.
Her apartment building came into view, and the car rolled to a stop in front of the front steps. So far, she had been avoiding looking at him, but she turned to him. "I had a really nice time last night," she said.
"I did too," he said. But he wouldn't look at her, he just stared straight ahead.
"So….I guess I'll see you soon. Right?" she added hopefully.
She stared at him longingly as she waited for a response. Look at me, tell me you'll take me out again, lean in and kiss me, acknowledge me in any way shape or form please.
His eyes darted over to her before returning to the street in front of him. She slowly reached for the door handle, hoping to stall for as long as possible. I should just go ahead and kiss him. She gathered up her shoes in hand and pulled on the handle, about to open the door. It happened so suddenly that she wasn't sure it had happened at all, but he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. When she looked back at him, he was sitting in the exact same position as before, almost as if it never happened.
All the color drained from her face, except for a spot of bright red blush from where his lips had touched her cheek. "Right…well…" she said under her breath, because she wasn't sure there was anything else to say.
And so Cami got out of the car and walked barefoot up to her apartment. And she went into the bathroom and turned on the shower to the hottest setting. For the second time in twelve hours, her dress dropped to her ankles as she stepped into the water. She sat down on the floor of the tub and let the water soak into her. But inside she felt shaken and fragile, covered in a layer of drunken grunginess that she really didn't want to wash off because somewhere beneath the scent of whiskey and chlorine, Klaus's scent still lingered on her.
[A/N: there WILL be at least one more chapter to this fic! Lol bear with me, I am still trying to figure out just how I want to end this one, but for the time being, there is more to come. So fear not, readers! Hope you enjoy, xoxox]