Experimentation and Statistics
It's the only time ever that leaving a museum was more interesting to him than arriving. They meander through the streets together, vaguely headed to the nearest subway station. Notably, she walks close enough to him now that she occasionally brushes against his shoulder. The gravity of their two bodies circling each other in. He's caught in her orbit as much as she's caught in his.
Not that he minds.
"Would you like company for your journey home?" He asks her under a streetlight and she turns to look at him. How badly he wants to press her against the post. Meld their bodies together and feel her lips on his own. And the way she looks at him tells him that she wants it too.
"You make it sound like an adventure." He can see it there in the corners of her mouth. How poorly she's trying to hide her smile. "It's only Brooklyn."
"With a beautiful woman, anything is an adventure."
She snorts, covers her mouth her hand, and rolls her eyes. "You are really corny."
"Is that a no?"
Elena tilts her head, working her jaw in thought like she's trying to figure out the path she wants to take with him. Where he fits in the future. "I'd love some company."
They wait for the subway together and it's one of the most normal things he's done in a long while. Standing among people getting off work and waiting to go home to their loved ones. Listening to Elena tell him how running into him actually made her day. Elated that he could still make anyone's day memorable in a good way.
"I just kept obsessing over the mid-term and I don't know why, but the museum seemed like the perfect place to –."
"If it's the same to you," he leans into her, sitting on the same row of seats. "I'd prefer not to talk of class or projects. Just tonight, I'd like to not be reminded that I'm your teacher."
"Alright," she agrees, angling her body towards him. Her knee bumping into his and, to his delight, coming to rest against his leg. "What would you like to talk about, Klaus?"
Hearing his name from her lips and watching the way she enunciates each syllable has him grinning. "What is your most treasured memory?"
She frowns initially. Not suspecting that. He likes that he's surprised her. And then she looks away, searching for her answer. "Being at the lake house with my family. With my aunt and uncles. My parents and my brother. Movie nights and cuddling on the couch while we debated which movie we'd watch. Maybe it sounds too simple, but that's what I love about it. How simple those times always felt."
"It sounds lovely."
"What about yours?" she asks and then adds. "If you say tonight, I will throw myself onto the tracks as soon as we stop."
"I wasn't," he insists even though that answer might be true. "The first time I painted anything. Realizing I was actually good at something. Before I knew how lucrative it could be, it felt like something that was all mine."
"And now?"
He inhales deeply and holds it for a second before exhaling. "It can be difficult to reconcile the notion of commoditizing your own emotions and the desire to keep certain things secret."
It strikes him how easy it was to tell her that. No one, not his family or friends or therapist, know that he's begun to resent his career. For a second, her gaze is a million miles away as she processes that information. During the remainder of the ride, they talk of lighter subjects. Favorite colors and food. His – green. Hers – blue. His – rare steak. Hers – French onion soup.
"It's comforting!" she laughs, justifying her choice to him when he calls it bland. "It's reliable. It's warm."
They get off at her stop and walk the few blocks to her house. The closer they get, the more he regrets the end of the night. Wishing he could stretch it out and linger with her in elongated seconds between the minutes it would take to get her home. They flirt. Their fingers brush against each other. The charge between them makes him feel heady and a little drunk.
"Thank you." Her steps have become slower too. A good sign. "For walking me home. Hanging out with me. It's been a long time since I've just done that."
He knows what she must be talking about. Can't deny that he'd like to be invited into her home. Into her bed. But hearing her say this makes him want to wait. To have the privilege she hasn't been giving other young men. The courtesy of her time.
"Shit," she whispers under her breathe and it snaps him out of his daydreaming. "Stefan? What are you doing here?"
The boy looks furious. Furrowed, heavy brows regard her with anger and underneath that a deep sadness. He clenches his jaw to keep the tears at bay. "You know what? Never mind, Elena." He storms past them, his shoulder connecting with Klaus's.
His lip curls and his hand tightens to a fist. He doesn't know who this boy is or who he is to her, but he can guess. Knows that it would likely ruin the night should he hit him for something as simple as bumping into him. Klaus breathes and counts like Camille taught him until the kid disappears down the street.
"I'm sorry," Elena swallows. Her mouth on her fingers as she watches the boy walk away. Her teeth tearing into her cuticles. "That was my –."
"It's none of my business, love." He assures her with a hand on her shoulder. Grateful at least that in the city, it wasn't his past waiting for them on the steps. Her smile is heavier now and he hates to see it like that but says goodbye to her all the same. Watches the door close behind her before he turns around to walk back to the subway.
Calls his most trusted friend, Marcel, on his way home. Asks for a favor. To have him look into this Stefan and find out everything he can about him. Where he's from. His relationship with Elena. Family. Friends.
Everything.
Once inside, Elena leans against her door. Her legs shaking as she slides down to the floor. Her lips quiver as she tries to hold everything in. She had given up any kind of hope of talking to Stefan again, much less seeing him. And that was absolutely not the way she would have wanted him to see her after so long.
She doesn't want him to know how reckless she's been in this last year. Doesn't want him to know the mess she's made of herself. Wishes that she could have stayed the pristine woman he knew and loved. Wishes that she could have stayed the same.
Thanks her luck that it was Klaus and not Damon that she was walking home with.
She dials his number. Three times it goes straight to voicemail. On the fourth time, she leaves a message. Trying to gather her voice enough to sound semi-normal. It feels wrong to sound sad. "Hey. I'm sorry about that. It – ah – it wasn't a date or anything. Just my professor. Not like that." She bites her lip. Knowing it was at least a little like that. "Stefan. I'm so sorry. About everything."
She hangs up before she can approve the message. Hoping that maybe the phone will just erase it all. She drags herself into bed without brushing her teeth. Curling up under the covers and typing out a message to Jeremy while she cries. Lets the sobs thrash through her chest until it hurts and then she keeps going. Feeling like she deserves the pain.
When she quiets enough and the tears have dried on her cheeks, she checks the calendar. Swiping to the event she'd plugged into her phone so many months ago.
Only a few more weeks now until she could visit her brother.
Days after his argument with Elijah and his impetuous reveal of their secret older sister, Rebekah shows up at his door. Apparently, trustworthy Tony was no match for her charming smile and twinkling eyes. Klaus would have to have a talk with his doorman.
"What do you want?" he asks, eyeing her luggage as she drags it out of the elevator and into his living room.
"Is that any way to greet your baby sister?" Rebekah huffs, giving up on the last bag and kicking it from the elevator into the apartment. "I would say your only sister, but Elijah has informed us all that the honor has now been stripped."
"I suppose it was too much to hope that he would keep that morsel of information to himself?" Klaus sets down two stemless glasses, filling them with a dark liquid while Rebekah leans against the counter.
"Keep it a secret?" She stands up straight, the look in her eyes is deeply offended. "How long would you have kept this gossip to yourself?"
"As long as I could manage it." Klaus slides the glass to her while taking a deep swig of his own. "It was nice. For a moment. Having it all to myself. Having Freya all to myself."
"You were always so possessive of every stray bit of affection."
"Do you blame me?" He raises an eyebrow. "When my life contained such few moments of it."
"We love you, Nik." She sighs, exasperated already. "Mother loves you. I love you. Elijah loves you."
"If this is another ploy to guilt me into visiting that woman."
"And what if it is?" Rebekah holds her chin high and he has half a mind to kick her out. "She misses you. She's not well. You need to see her."
"I'll see her when I'm ready." It's an empty promise. Klaus has no intention of ever being ready.
They continue to share drinks while Rebekah regales him with her semester abroad in Sydney. How disappointed she is to be going back to LSU for the spring semester. Casually pries him for information about their sister. Wrings a promise out of Klaus that he will make the introductions soon.
"Before Elijah," she smirks. "That would be my preference."
"And I'm the possessive one."
She shrugs and gets up from the couch. Wandering around the living room. Not being discreet at all as she meanders over to his easel. "It's my right as the former only sister to meet the new, older sister first."
Klaus watches her walk closer. His heart pounds in his chest. Waiting for her to say something. Anything. "Perhaps it was my fortune to have something first for a change."
"I see you picked up this painting again." She stares at the notorious brunette woman. The canvas had seen many changes. As many emotions as he had about the subject. But something was different about it now. "This isn't Tatia anymore is it?"
"It was never her," he lies and Rebekah shoots him a sharp look. "It was never meant to be her. That's why it never worked. The canvas knew even before I did."
"Are you saying there's a new girl?"
"I'm out of whiskey," he deflects quickly. "Would you like to go out? See the city? Grab a drink?"
Rebekah's eyes light up. Her grin spreads from ear to ear and she darts into his guest room to change clothes. The most Klaus does, at her insistence, is change into a slightly nicer Henley. Something more form fitting than the usual.
She's been dropping hints about going out that he's been ignoring. Except, he'll do this if it means distracting his sister from finding out about Elena.
The night winds down at Gram's Magic Shoppe. They haven't seen a customer in at least an hour and the entire floor is as clean as any of them are going to get it. Nora reclines in a chair in the corner, her legs pumping over the arm. Bonnie is at the cash register, preparing for shutting down. Elena re-adjusts a display for the tenth time before turning tentatively to her friends.
"How do you know when the end of a relationship is truly over?" Stefan has been on her mind all day. Wondering if she could salvage their relationship and if she even wanted to anymore. If it was better to end the chapter on a sour note and move ahead with this stain on her book.
"When she conspires with your adopted father to trick you into marriage." When Bonnie shoots Nora a questioning look, she just shrugs casually without further explanation. "Why do you ask?"
"No real reason."
"Is this about Stefan?" Bonnie begins but Elena shakes her head empathically. "Ok, but if it were about him, you could talk to him. Whatever happened. He'd hear you out." The silence fills the space between them and then Bonnie clears her throat. "If that's what you want."
The truth is she didn't know what she wanted anymore. Knew what she was supposed to want. What her family wanted for her or what her friends wanted for her. What ten-year-old her wanted the first time she saw Stefan. But no one had warned her that growing up might mean wanting different things. Would mean having to navigate that change and learning to pivot.
It was rude.
As they all begin to close the shop for the night, Elena clears her throat to get their attention. "Hey. I don't know if this is a sure thing or not, but I think my art professor can get that Freya woman to come to the store for a book signing."
Nora's jaw drops and Bonnie's eyes open wide. "Wh-What?"
"Well!" Elena's voice raises in pitch. "I don't know for sure. We were at the museum and got stuck in an elevator and the topic kind of came up."
"Just kind of came up?" Nora throws her arms in the air. "No big deal. Just kind of came up!"
"I don't even know if he's called her yet," Elena tries to backtrack. Uncomfortable with the level of excitement, not knowing if it is something he could even deliver and by virtue if it was something she could even deliver. She's already let down too many people, she can't let down Bonnie too. "He just promised."
"Oh, well if a man promises." Nora rolls her eyes and Elena feels the sudden need to defend him.
"She's his sister. He said it wouldn't be an issue to call her." Standing in the store, she's struck with the notion that he could have lied about it in an effort to get into her pants. Except, he hadn't. She amends that thought quickly. He hadn't been able to with Stefan on her doorstep.
No, that wasn't right either.
Stefan left them alone. If he had wanted to, he could have. Except he left. He made sure she got inside her house and then he left.
"Elena?" Bonnie snaps her out of the internal debate. "If this is true, that would be amazing! For the store, but also just to meet her. Oh my god! Nora! Freya might come here?"
Bonnie pulls her girlfriend in for a hug and in the face of her pure joy, Nora can't help but join in too. They jump up and down. Swing each other around and squeal. Nora insists on going out to celebrate. Not giving either woman a choice in the matter before she races upstairs to pick out the perfect celebrity-might-be-coming-to-our-shop-for-a-book-signing dress.
Bonnie laughs, but Elena notices how it doesn't reach her eyes. "Wait." Her laugh peters off. "You said you went to the museum with your art professor? The guy you hate?"
"We didn't go together," Elena explains, still concerned about Bonnie's eyes. "We happened to be there at the same time. Walked around for a bit together. Got stuck in an elevator. Hardly notable."
"Except for the fact that he offered to do huge favor for you."
"For you, Bonnie."
"He's not doing it to impress me."
Elena blushes but doesn't say anything else for fear of being caught. "Are you okay? You seem happy. But…"
Bonnie's mouth twists. She looks upstairs for a moment and then shrugs. "I am happy. I guess I just imagined Caroline being here too for something this exciting. It feels like she should be here too."
"You could invite her to the book signing?" Elena suggests it but her mouth is pinched tightly.
"I want her to be here," Bonnie begins, searching for the right words. "But I don't want her to be here. She hasn't even apologized yet. I don't want something that exciting to be tainted by an apology. Or by waiting for an apology. Either way. It should be about me and the store and Grams. That's what I want to focus on."
Bonnie's cheeks puff out, a sure sign that she's trying to keep from crying. Elena envelopes her into her arms, tucking her head under her chin. "It's okay to want that day to be about you, Bonnie. It should be about you."
They stand like that longer than they'd realized when Nora comes downstairs in a glittery black dress. "Are you trying to hit on my girl?" she frowns, only half-joking. "Because if you are then I'm going to have to hex you."
"Are we going out or what?" Bonnie turns with a huge smile plastered to her face, wiping at her face before Nora notices anything.
Nora takes them to her favorite bar, a salsa club not far from the shop. While waking, Nora berates them for not changing their clothes at least. Gently with Bonnie, a little harsher with Elena. Bonnie's lips twist into a grin. Part of what she admires about her girlfriend is that bold vocality when expressing her opinions.
Once inside, they shed their jackets and hand them over to coat check. Elena and Bonnie both in their Gram's tank tops. Scooping so low, the pretty laces on Elena's bralette peek out. Her hair in soft waves down her back and she's feeling pretty good about it until she sees him.
Her teacher, Klaus. No. Mr. Mikaelson. With a woman. A young blonde woman with her arms around him. Mortified, she notices them walking closer to their table only it doesn't seem as if he's noticed her yet. She sits down low in her seat, hoping that he won't. As they pass by, she pretends to scratch her forehead. There are many reasons she doesn't want to run into him, but right now the biggest one is that she'd actually believed he was interested in her. And now here he was. On a date. In front of her.
"I don't understand why we had to travel all the way out here, Nik, when there are perfectly acceptable bars in Manhattan." Elena rolls her eyes at the name. Nik? Who is this girl? Bonnie shoots her a confused look and Elena gives her a panicked one back. "Wait. You're the girl from the painting."
The blonde woman stumbles against her shoulder and Elena wishes she'd just gone home. She turns to a set of judging eyes and a set of amused eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Oh god!" The woman enthuses, clearly a bit tipsy. "You're the girl he's hiding."
"I think that's enough, Rebekah." Klaus squeezes the woman's upper arm. "We hadn't meant to interrupt you and your friends' night out. My sister and I were just leaving."
"Sister?" Elena's voice comes out raspier than she'd meant it. The word caught in her throat.
"You must be that teacher she hates," Nora assesses, somewhat accurately.
"The teacher whose class she hates," Bonnie corrects, generously. "Our Elena is many things, but an artist is not one of them. Would you like to join us?"
Elena swallows hard and nearly chokes. But her friends ignore her. They are far too interested in the mystery of the man come alive.
"Oh please, Nik." Rebekah begs, tugging at her brother's arm. Elena can be more forgiving in her assessment of the girl now that she knows they are related. Not that she'll acknowledge why. "You promised me a night out and it's hardly even late."
"Very well," he concedes and almost like the three woman coordinated it, Rebekah takes a seat next to Nora and leaves the chair next to Elena empty for Klaus to take. His hands grip the back of the chair for a moment before he decides to sit down.
As effervescent as Rebekah is, she immediately charms her way into a hushed conversation with Bonnie and Nora. Occasionally, one of their heads will swivel to Elena and Klaus before returning to whatever conversation they are having.
"You must really like Brooklyn," Elena starts, her mouth tightens at the awkwardness. "To come all the way out here, I mean."
"I hadn't meant to run into you," he lies. He had dragged Rebekah to four different bars on this side of town and was on his way to a fifth when he'd spotted Elena. "My sister insisted on going somewhere she's never been before."
She nods, not knowing that you could feel like a third wheel with five people in the group. But somehow Rebekah has become melded to Bonnie and Nora's side. It's odd to feel like she's been left out in the group with another person, but Rebekah's melodic laughter and the Bonnie's delighted eyes are like cold fronts to the other side of the table.
Elena can't help but feel like she's being discussed.
"Would you like to grab a drink at the bar, love?" Klaus's hand on her shoulder distracts her. He nods his head toward the bar.
"Nik," Rebekah whines and the group turns to them as they stand. "You didn't tell me you were going to get our sister to come to town for a book signing. They get to meet her before I do? I demand an invitation."
"Sorry," Elena's mouth drops. "I mentioned it today. But I said I wasn't sure if you were serious or not."
"I am. I've already asked her." Klaus assures her. "Her agent is supposed to reach out soon to help schedule a convenient time."
"That is amazing." The awe in Bonnie's eyes is stark. "Seriously. Thank you so much."
The three woman reconvene, turning their backs to Elena and Klaus to continue their conversation. It's not at all what she thought tonight would be. Rebekah somehow takes her place with Bonnie and Nora. She's charming and fun. Carefree. A lot of things Elena used to be too.
"I'd love to go to the bar." She turns to Klaus and when he smiles so does she. "I doubt we will be missed much."
At the bar, Klaus slides a lager and she brings the bottle to her lips. He watches her uncomfortably glance back at the group. Sees the envy in her eyes and understands it. This anxiety of being forgotten.
"Last night was weird," she begins, staring at down the neck of the bottle. "I'm sorry about my ex showing up."
"You two dated?" He already knows. That was the easy information to get.
"Yeah we did. For a long time." She looks back to the group of woman, still enamored with each other. "Well, we broke up. Like a year ago now, I think." The why of it was still evading him. Marcel hadn't found that out yet. Klaus stays quiet, hoping to get her to keep talking. "Would you like to dance?"
If he can't know more about her, then getting closer to her was an excellent offer. Her hand is small in his. As he leads her out onto the dance floor, he takes liberty and runs his thumb over the back of her hand. And she squeezes his back. Such a simple motion, but the heat that it generates between them makes him yearn more for the end of the semester.
She holds out her hand for him creating space that he closes with ease. Sliding his hand across her waist to her back and pulling her in to his chest. The steps are an easy pattern and he is pleased by how quickly her hips match his rhythm. He takes a chance. Spins her out and watches her hair spiral behind her. Spins her back in, even closer. Pressing his body to hers.
Her smile is easy and he enjoys that she can't take her eyes off him. He can't either. The world becomes smaller even as the dance floor fills out. Everyone else is just a moving body but he and Elena, they are the sole inhabitants of this world.
Her hands meet behind his neck. Her fingers playing in his curls. His eyes grow heavy with the feeling of her hands in his hair like this. It makes him a little bolder. His hands are at her waist. His fingers gliding under her shirt to explore the expanse of skin at her lower back.
At some point, they've stopped dancing though they still sway a little to the beat. Her back arches and any space between their bodies is smothered. She drags her fingers across his jawline and he notices with pride how she keeps glancing down at his lips. The only thing she could manage to draw that day with any kind of convincing emotion.
Klaus grabs her hand and spins her until her back is against his chest. The music gets slower and their rhythm matches the pace. His fingers hook into her belt loop and her hands are on his thighs as she grinds into him.
It's maddening.
But he's a patient man and he can see that Elena is a runner. Maybe not always, but she's skittish now. Something has made her uncertain about life. And he doesn't want to add to that. Doesn't want to be just another reason she has mascara under her eyes while she's running late to class. If he's going to do this, he's going to be all in.
And, frustratingly, that means he has to leave it all in the bar tonight.
She doesn't make it easy at all. When he leans down, she cranes her neck for him. Glances back to him when he doesn't immediately kiss the soft skin under her jaw. Whoever she's been with, they've just been boys. Klaus isn't stupid enough to fall into this moment. To forsake any long-term desire for her for short-term gratification.
"There are many things I'd like to do." He whispers against her ear. Lets his lips lightly play on her skin while his breathe warms her. "If I weren't your teacher."
He can feel her shuddering against his chest and grins. One hand is on his own. Their fingers intertwined on her stomach while the other is sneakier. Slides up his thigh between their bodies. She's trying to press him for more but captures her hand. Brings it to his neck and watches her breasts move under the loose cotton material.
"Tell me." Her voice is low and so husky with desire. If he were more incompetent, he'd fold his hand and lose. But she's a woman worth the wait. "What would you do?"
She's making this so hard. He swallows and lets his hand wander further under her shirt. His fingers map out the soft valley of her belly to the hollows next to her hip bones. His touch is feather light and she gasps once he slips to fingers underneath the hem of her jeans. "I would take you home tonight. Lay you across my bed and worship your body. I'd fill you so completely that you'd never know peace without me the way my thoughts haven't known peace since I first saw you."
He's satisfied when she has to lick her lips before responding. A flush creeps across her neck and chest when she looks up at him. "We could pretend. Just tonight. We could pretend that you aren't my teacher."
"Elena," he groans, spinning her out and then back in so she's facing him again. Tilts her chin so he can look her in the eye. "I could never pretend with you."
They part soon after that at her friends' insistence. She makes one last play for him to come home with her but he tells her that he must play the good brother and get Rebekah home safely.
But even as they walk their separate ways home, Klaus looks over his shoulder to find that Elena has too. Glancing back at one another until the three girls turn the corner back to the magic shop and Klaus loses sight of her.
He regrets not being able to pursue her truly tonight.
But two months isn't really that long to wait.
At least, that's what he tells himself.
A/N: I'm busy outlining the next nine chapters of Throne but until then I'll be working on the next three chapters of Liberal Arts to post until I'm ready to start back on Throne. I also suspect that in the next few weeks I'll be ready to post the next chapter of the joint project - Would It Be A Sin. Thank you for reading!