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Our Armour Breaks At Dawn
Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away, there was a girl named Caroline.
Except she wasn't a girl at all.
Her first real memory is of cerulean blues as they form shapes above her head like endless swirls, and the voice of someone speaking, though it's garbled and she can't understand it. It's sterile and cold.
In her faint childhood memories there's a hall, wide and big - she doesn't think her little feet would walk her to its ends even if they tried - and the place is spacious and not at all how a small part of her envisions safety to be.
(What is safety?)
The food she eats never differs no matter what day it is, whether it's Sunday or Monday or Tuesday - oh look she can list the days now. She's getting better at knowing things.
She's not. She just likes to believe she is.
One day, her whole unit stands in a line. They all keep quiet, still as ever but she grows restless, head turning from side to side every few seconds. Four other girls look at her curiously.
In a certain twist of fate, they talk. She thinks she makes friendsthat day, but she's not really sure.
Each day, they enter a different arena with a task that they have to achieve. Sometimes they observe as others who wear white armor shot at targets with their blasters, lasers red and green as they burn their way through.
The first time she hears the sound it reminds her of a hiss in her ears, a strange sound if she's ever heard one.
It's when she turns ten standard years old that she gets her own weapon and her own armor and-
And, she gets a helmet she never takes off too.
Read the rest of the story on ao3 or ffnet
#klaroline#klaroline fanfiction#klaroline drabbles#caroline forbes#my drabbles#*kconeshot#my writing#support your local fic writer#i posted something!!#can you believe??!!#tis the sw au!!!
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Watch That Fire Burn
Sequal to Don't Drown My Fire (Let It Strive) for @supremeuppityone who asked.
Summary: Four times Caroline ran into Klaus through the centuries and the one she went to him.
1516,
Caroline learns early in her immortal life that her feet do not like to be shackled in one place for long. The only exception to that was Italy, but papa had been there and so it had been out of the question that she missed a single moment with him while his heart had still been beating.
Humans only lived for a short time, after all.
The sky and wind still called her though, it always had and always would.
Her father draws his last breath when she is only twenty five. It is not easy to ignore the tears streaking her face.
She sends the servants on their ways and closes the door to her home. She will come here again, just not soon. She does not think her heart could bear it, to look at the hallways where she had ran in, with ribbons laced around strands of her hair, and not feel like a knife was twisting and twisting deeper into her bones.
In Venice, Caroline sees the port full of passengers, wonders whether to let her wings lead her or see where the sea wants her to go.
The latter wins and she lands in Japan where the Noh Theater strives and she watches the performances about legends and old times.
Tan dons her body. She loves her kimono more than anything, floral prints decorating the fabric. Her mouth salivates each time she smells the local dishes cooked in the air.
Running into Klaus is a surprise, one where she is not exactly sure if she should be pleased or weary about. The memory of his eyes as he traced over her wings is fresh in her mind.
“Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart,” he says, lips quirking at the edges where a set of dimples appear. She thinks of something sharp to say.
The words die on the tip of her tongue when she realises that they were no longer in her home and she can't demand things of him like she used to.
How unfortunate.
Caroline doesn't reply as quickly as she would have liked. Klaus was dangerous, that she didn't forget.
“Yes, it's quite the shock,” she says briskly.
His kimono is deceptively simple. She likes how its calm blue colour matches his eyes.
She blinks at her line of thought, whispers to her dragon, its nails sharp and ready to dig in a firm no. The music that is beginning to play in the distance tell her that the play she's here to see is starting soon.
It is the one about the Daimyo Samurai, her favourite. She refuses to miss it Klaus or no Klaus.
He sees it with her and parts away towards the finale. And that the end of it.
Or she so believes.
1624,
She adores this game she plays with herself; trying to guess which new place she's going to visit next. By the end of her first century she has visited Persia, Egypt, Greece and parts of China. Her tongue speaks every new word she knows. It's almost as freeing as soaring above Mount Tai during the night.
India, though, with its rich spices and colors draws her eyes immediately. She loves Asia. She loves everywhere she goes.
Her feet twirls around in the garden she has behind her home, and suddenly she wants to laugh with joy.
Papa would have loved it here, she thinks. The pain of the dagger that always carved its way through her at the memory of her father has lessened over the years, but that does not mean its sting is welcome.
In the morning, she walks to the market. A haughty blonde somehow ends up liking the very piece of silk that she's been eyeing for a few days. There's something decidedly un-native about her accent and familiar, too, but she can't exactly pinpoint what and has she mentioned that this particular shade of red is just perfect for a sari that she has in mind now please get your hands off it.
The blonde looks like she's ready to bite her head off, Caroline notes with amusement and she smells of raspberries, wood and that metal tang of bl-
“Rebekah, love, I thought we agreed to not make a fuss.”
How did she not noticed him.
“She,” Rebekah said with an accusatory glance towards her, “is the one who is brewing trouble not I.”
Klaus’s eyes shift over her as if he hasn't probably knew that she has been here and smiles, small and oh so charming.
No, she reminds the talons clawing at her mind.
“Pleasure to see you again, sweetheart.”
“I can't say the same.” Damn dangerous. “Should I be suspicious of our so called chance meetings.”
“Hardly,” Klaus smoothly says. “I promise it's just coincidence.”
She doesn't completely believe him but he doesn't need to know that.
There are days when the wind is not so chirpy, her wanderlust not so high and Caroline is left with this loneliness. She misses papa. She misses Italy, the beach and the flower crowns she weaved from the the roses and poppies she found on the hill not so far from the house.
The snarling, soaring creature that lurks beneath her skin on the other hand, is very satisfied with the sea that goes for miles, the way that she doesn't have to be so careful all the time, hiding behind clouds and flying out of sights.
It's the most beautiful thing she has ever seen in her life; the sunset framed by the edge of the water.
Amongst the quiet beauty of the mountain, the golden dragon sleeps.
1856,
Rumours of New Orleans circle around the supernatural world and she's intrigued. One of her witch friends tell her of her plans to live there, mentioning how other covens has already established themselves among the city.
Enzo seems quite eager to go explore and she can't exactly blame him. Their contact with other vampires and the likes had minimised during the past twenty years.
The magic that permeates the air mingles with her aura, and she breathes in the fragrance of burning sage and cinnamon from the herbs shop on the left side of the sidewalk across the streets.
“Did you get what you need?” her friend asks, trying to startle her from behind but she barely bats an eye.
(Really he should know better by now.)
She huffs at his antics with a short laugh. “Most of them.”
Procuring something from his inner pocket of his jacket, Enzo pulls out a middle sized envelope with elegant ink written words.
“What's this?”
“We just got invited to a ball.”
Her eyebrows lift up with a silent question, taking the envelope from his hand - and did her eyes trick her or was the ink treated with gold water.
“Who are our hosts?”
Enzo shrugs, “ I am not exactly sure. People who call themselves the originals, heard they were some sort of royalty around here.”
They will probably turn out to be extremely old vampires who have a knack for theatrics, Caroline imagines, thinks of he who shall not be named and decides from her experience, that yes vampires were very much dramatic.
She is not to be disappointed in that regard, at least.
The main staircase is like a grand stage that beholds them, Klaus and Rebekah and other two males that she's never seen before.
It's not long before he approaches, still the very same.
“Out of all the people i expected to see today, you were not one of them.”
The sweet aftertaste of the chocolate is on her tongue. “I moved in New Orleans a few days back.”
The two other males and she are eventually introduced. She sees the way the younger looks like a canon that wants to be set loose and fire, her nostrils drown in the aroma of blood that surrounds him. The older one is polite with easiness that can enamor. She is not fooled for a second, the quiet are always the ones to be feared.
And Rebekah is a delight, of course.
She gives her one hard-measured look that makes her fear for her neck and says, “oh, it's you.”
Klaus, is unperturbed by his siblings foolhardiness and neither is she. Her skin is not easily mangled, both figuratively and literally. He offers her his arm, with promises of showing around the city he and his family built.
Walking in the dress she's wearing would be uncomfortable if not plain unconventional, she points out.
Klaus does not give up, and instead of giving her a set of practical clothes of Rebekah (who in between dances and teasing her brother had found time to strike some barbs at her) or worse as she has dreaded he'd do, just postpones it to early morning.
At six o’clock.
She shakes her head and says, “ten.” When dragging her body from the warmth of the bed would not be such a chore.
By some sort of miracle, Klaus manages to persuade her to stay longer in New Orleans than she originally intended to.
Three months roll in and she's made herself a regular at the restaurant in the main square, a witch from the herb shop she frequents strikes up a friendship with her and at the end of every week Klaus takes her to try a new meal.
“I'll see you in a few decades,” she whispers when she begins to hunger for new places. Because that's her life now, grasping at the world with her fingertips, learning the mechanics of who she is and stumbling upon vampires every few years or so.
1923,
Apparently, she had really meant it.
Chicago brims with glamour and mobsters and trading guns among people is almost as common as inviting friends over for lunch.
Her heels click against the wooden polished floor of Gloria’s and she looks for Enzo, ends up finding him singing quietly from his table alongside the singer on stage.
“Enjoying yourself?”
He hums a confirmation without breaking eye contact with the band.
The music soon comes to a stop and the crowd clap and clap and the singer twirls, baking in the cheers, sewn beads floating around her as she does.
“I think this decade is shaping up to be a fantastic one.”
Her shoulder playfully hits his. "Of course you would think that.”
Enzo’s gaze sweeps behind her to where Gloria keeps sparing her untrusting glances. “I can't believe this one doesn't like you. All witches do.”
“Yes, it's a shame, isn't it?” she sighs in mock disappointment. All the old witches who amassed their powers take one peek at her and decide they don't like her at all.
At least they had adequate survival instincts.
“Alright, gorgeous. I am off to have some fun. See you in the morning.”
She sits contentedly, watching as another round of dancing commenced and high heels clicked, clicked, clicked.
Caroline fingers her coat, debates whether to leave and enjoy a good night in her bed.
Klaus and Rebekah sitting on a table on the corner catch her attention. (She is no longer surprised at seeing them, though the young vampire accompanying them at the table whose eyes are vacant and teeth gleam leaves her unsure.)
Quietly, she approaches them and keeps still. Klaus doesn't even give the hint of having sensed her, seemingly taken with the little show.
“Now, slit your wife's hand and drink her blood,” the vampire commands the man who is sitting down across him, gives the knife and all but croons encouragement.
But before the knife can even so much as touch any skin, the silver blade find it way in the vampire's chest cavity, blood blossoming on his shirt.
“Seriously?” she snarls in contempt and regard both originals (still a ridiculous title might she add) with scorn.
“What-,” the vampire, ripper she notes now she's close enough that the stench of blood reeking from him suffocates her.
“Reverse what you did," she orders, vaguely aware of the claws threatening to embedd themselves in the ripper's neck.
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
“Someone you wouldn't want to mess with, boy.”
The woman and her husband, (man and his wife, does it matter), go on their way with all their blood, skin and organs intact. The ripper growls at her lowly and she gives him a cold smile in return.
Fortunately for him, Rebekah demands they go out and he, too, is left untouched.
“Since when do you martyr for the humans?” Klaud breaks the silence between them as they walk alongside Chicago River, hand tucked in the crook of his arm.
“Since what your friend was doing was absolutely revolting.”
She doesn't condemn a good meal, she is rather fond of her hunting trips herself but that game of Rebekah’s who-knows-what was disgusting, point blank.
“And how are you doing here now that you are no longer in your kingdom?” Caroline speaks, diverting the conversation. “I bet it must be really difficult having the people not bowing to you at every turn.”
Klaus chuckles. “A good man knows how to make people kneel no matter where he is, love.”
“Hmm, love, sweetheart. Is it a British thing?”
“What?”
She shakes her head and laughs at his confusion. “Something I heard on the radio.”
2100,
It's the dead of the night. People sleep, the wind howls and she walks quietly through the street. Her hands find refuge in her pockets, safe to sweat as they want.
The manor on the far end stands out miles away. Like a haunted house amidst the modern buildings.
Her steps are slow, controlled. She knocks once on the door and waits.
He opens without hesitation, there's a wrinkle between his brows and she wonders how she looks, the only other soul awake now.
“It occurred to me we never saw any countries together,” she begins. “I thought we should rectify that.”
“At.” Klaus looks at his watch. “Two o’clock in the morning.”
She resists the urge to stick her tongue out at him, merely crosses her arms.
“No time like the present.”
The way Klaus flits his eyes over her is adoring and hungry and she smiles, small but genuine.
Her spontaneous decisions were not always terrible.
Peru is checked off her list and then Brazil and Mexico and she stops keeping track on paper after Norway.
Caroline used to cut her plane ticket after flights but these two, with the ‘Peru’ boldly printed on the front, are safekept with her kimono, sari, the flute she learned to play. Treasured in a big box that stores her firsts.
Pleeease tell me what you think. I'll love you forever.
#klaroline#klaroline fanfiction#klaroline drabbles#*kconeshot#my writing#my drabbles#supremeuppityone#i worked hard on this#so i'd appreciate some feedback#♡♡♡
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Chasing Katherine, K+E take over residence of an English lord by compulsion and Caroline's his daughter. Twist: she's a vampire (or any kind of supernatural creature now that I think of it xD).
For day 6 of infinity week: other supernatural.
A/N: For purposes Elijah is not involved in this. Caroline is a dragon. Enjoy. Superbe beta work by @garglyswoof
Don’t Drown My Fire (Let It Strive)
Italy, 1511.
“Papa?” Caroline called out, body tense at the sheer stillness that seemed to have swallowed her beloved home.
Everything looked the same as it always did, from the rustling of the wind to the scratching of the rats the cleaners had yet to discover. Even the delightful smell of her favorite stew hung in the air as it always did when freshly cooked.
But the dragon under her veins didn’t take comfort in these things as it usually did, reacting to some old magic that ate at it. And while she may not like its ever looming presence, she trusted it enough not to second guess its agitation.
Creeping stealthily through the hallways, she reached the library; hearing her father’s breathing. She knocked, turning the knob and making her way inside.
“Caroline,” her father greeted her. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, fighting to make its way across her face and she would have let it had it not been for the vacant look in her father’s warm eyes.
A figure caught her attention, and her dragon went from agitated to a growling mess for some reason beyond her. The man’s gaze swept over her in a lazy manner, almost as if he was assessing a meal.
“I didn’t know we were expecting guests.” The thought tumbled from her mouth hastily, the weariness settled in her bones lacing her words.
“Lord Klaus had had some urgent matters and arrived here quickly so I had no time to tell you, dear.”
Even through the cordial greetings, the creature inside of her didn’t rest, tugging at her until she herself fidgeted uncomfortably, desiring nothing but to shed her clothing and fly away from whatever had raised her dragon’s awareness for just a little bit.
Klaus. She rolled the name around in her head, wondering what was it about him that caused her to mistrust him so; nonetheless something was terribly wrong and she would find out what.
And if the man in front of her happened to be tiresome, she could always eat him for lunch.
Later that night Klaus woke to the blunt metal of a knife digging in his skin, the Lord’s daughter staring back defiantly, teeth bared and eyes a shade of gold that he so desperately wished was his.
“What are you doing here?” The snarl was inhuman, monstrous, and he wanted to sink his fangs in it and lick it clean.
If fear was what the creature in front of him expected as a reaction, it was far from what it got. The ire that glowed in the flecks of red that appeared confirmed what the monster sought after but Klaus merely smiled charmingly, a little tauntingly, too, he’d admit.
“Is that any way to greet a guest, sweetheart?” The knife carved its way deeper into his skin in response.
“I’d start talking if I were in your place.”
Enraptured, by the shadows of flames that he swore danced at the tips of her hair, he didn’t answer. But he was also curious and if keeping her - Caroline - all anger and temper and that fire meant goading her a little more, then well, he was immortal and what was a single knife against his immortal heart and invincible body if nothing but an annoying hindrance?
What? He was bored.
Her fork tapped against the glass of her plate, a sharp tempo that managed to narrowly stop her from picking up a knife and slamming it in their guest’s chest cavity.
“I hope the room was suitable to you, my lord.” Her father’s kind voice said.
“It was well, although there were some….disturbances.” He shot her a smirk discreetly, and she flashed her golden eyes at him, pointedly ignoring his marvelled gaze.
“I wonder if these disturbances were ghosts coming after you, my lord, perhaps they wished you to join them.”
Her threat didn’t go unnoticed but Klaus only snorted, amused. “Well, I am afraid they’d have a bit of trouble accomplishing that task, love.”
Her eyes snapped to her father’s face, eyebrows almost raising up in disbelief at his serene glassy look, as if someone - practically a stranger- wasn’t trading barbs with her, adding thinly veiled flirtations in between. The pit of dread that was inside her only carved its way deeper.
She turned her attentions back to her latest battle at hand, forcing out a mocking smile. “Maybe, but you’ll find that the ghosts in this house are not defeated so easily either.”
He sunk his fangs deeper into the skin of the little human’s neck, taking the blood in large mouthfuls. The rhythm of the heartbeats slowed down but he continued feeding, deducing that a few more bites wouldn’t hurt. Much.
“That is quite disgusting.” He retracted his fangs, turning to see Caroline, nose scrunched up as she shot her gaze to the scene in front of her, eyes darkening as they stopped on the still gaping wound of the servant. The girl fell to the floor, breath laboured and whimpers falling from her lips. Sighing, he picked her up, ripping into his wrist and placing it against her mouth, allowing enough drops to flow inside her.
The girl stumbled out of the room, not even greeting her mistress in her weaknesses, though Caroline barely seemed to care; eyes so set on him as they were.
“It’s rude to walk in on people eating, sweetheart,” he said. Veins prominent on his face, he was inwardly pleased at the way Caroline looked curiously at his vampiric features. Her blonde hair flowed around her as she turned her head towards the corridor the maid had scurried off to.
“You let her go,” she said, a hidden question in her words.
“No need to get rid of perfectly available food.”
The corner of an eyebrow lifted up slightly but she inquired no more. Instead his favorite shade of gold bled into her eyes, the orange and red of a warm night’s flame surrounding her as she growled, “Does it have to do with the fact that you didn’t perform your mind trick on her as you did my father?”
His mouth lifted up into a smirk. “Finally figured it out, love?” A laugh almost escaped him at her sneer. “I’m disappointed, I expected you to figure it out sooner.”
“First off, don’t call me any of your vexatious titles. Secondly, the members of my home aren’t for you to sustain yourself with, so should you wish to feed, do it elsewhere.”
Caroline moved to exit, but he spoke, stopping her in her tracks. “So if I were to feed outside of your home, it wouldn’t matter as much?” he asked, calling her out on her double standards.
Caroline did not even flinch, her features remaining impassive as she squarely looked him in the eye. “Yes.”
He mentally chuckled. This had just gotten a lot more fun.
It was dangerous, dangerous territory she was treading on, she knew, especially when the old magic swirling around Klaus bit so deeply in his bones. And yet, her inquisitive nature was relentless in its pursuit, digging and wanting more, more, more. More of him or more of what he was, that was yet to be decided.
‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ she reminded herself as she saw Klaus entering the manor after yet another day of whatever he deemed worthy of his time in the nearby villages, a servant wordlessly following after him much to her dismay. She had no doubt what was to follow, the bloodlust was evident in Klaus’s eyes and clear as the afternoon sky.
Her monster rumbled and snarled at the scene, her possessiveness threatening to make her act irrationally. She gripped the railings of the balcony tightly.
As if sensing her unwavering gaze, Klaus flicked his eyes towards her, a smug smirk stretched on a corner of his lips. The iron railings dented under her extended claws and her resolved strengthened.
‘Curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back.’
The paper in his hands crumbled as he crushed it. Elijah had yet to find Katerina even with all his resources, and he would’ve thought his brother was misleading him like the love-fool he had unfortunately become if Klaus had not been having such a hard time hunting down the irritating doppelgänger himself.
His fangs thirsted to reveal themselves at the reminder of his failed ritual and he breathed deeply, trying to quell his building rage. Katerina’s little family was dead, and when he found her he’d make her suffering unbearable. For now he’d devoted his time to finding her, and his leads here in Italy had yet to run out.
With that thought in mind, he threw the useless pieces of paper in the fireplace, adjusting his vest as he crossed the numerous hallways, heading for the door.
“Going somewhere, my lord?”
Ah a distraction, just what he needed. Turning, he saw Caroline’s arms crossed, a richly-embroidered cloak folded over one arm.
“Yes, care to join?”
“If it’s no bother, I have some business in town.”
Leisurely, he motioned with his hands an invitation. Unwittingly, the feeling of excitement and anticipation that usually appeared around Caroline’s presence rose.
Both of them didn’t bother to head for the stables, now that they were alone and unbound from their human façade, playing on a more wider field seemed like a fit decision.
“How about going the long way?” his eyes challenged her silently, an unspoken dare. Caroline inclined her head in agreement.
Always determined.
The twigs and fallen leaves crunched under their feet, few breezes rustling the branches here and there. An idea bloomed in his mind, a sudden desire to ruffle Caroline’s seemingly perfect feathers and bring forth her burning hidden anger.
He turned to her and she stopped, glancing at him warily as if she could sense his thoughts.
He smiled in return. “Since it will take us sometime for us reach our destination, I’d like to propose something to pass the time.”
“You’re the one who suggested we take the long way,” she said, her gaze narrowing.
“Well, you’re the one who agreed,” Klaus shot back, unwilling to let her have the last word.
She huffed, annoyed. “What’s this proposal of yours?”
“A race.”
Caroline’s eyebrows shot up in bewilderment but he continued on, unconcerned. “We’ll use our respective abilities to cross this piece of land until we reach the inn on the outskirts of town. Whoever arrives first wins.”
“What do I get out of this?”
“The satisfaction.”
Her expression turned into one of contemplation before she pursed her lips in fake sweetness. “As exhilarating as I’m sure it will be to beat you, I need a more attractive offer to be convinced.” She paused. “If I win, I get to ask you ten questions of my choosing.”
“Ten is a bit much, love.”
“I am playing your game, am I not?”
He shrugged but didn’t relent.
“Fine, five then.”
Caroline stepped in front of him as she made her way to the thick trees of the forest. His voice called out, “aren’t you going to ask me what my demands are?”
Without missing a beat, she replied, “There won’t be any need seeing as I am the one who’ll be victorious.”
Chuckling under his breath, he waited as Caroline walked ahead of him, delving deeper until she disappeared from his sight.
He flashed through the forest, running and passing through paths, thinking of his upcoming victory, and while the spoils wouldn’t provide power and renown, he was beginning to think they’d be much sweeter. Reaching their agreed spot, he glanced back then turned his eyes forward.
And came face-to-face with Caroline.
She continued lacing the front of the dress’ corset not sparing him a glance or showing that she noticed his arrival, and once she finished, she smiled at him icily.
“I win,” she declared off-handedly, walking towards the market leaving him both furious and captivated.
In truth, she was not entirely sure what to ask. Or more accurately what she should ask. Hundreds upon hundreds of questions flashed through her mind - how old was he, what sort of magic surrounded him, were there others like her?
They all held some allure, and she was tempted to ask everything. However, she knew that a creature like Klaus was not to be fooled, and to make sure she got the best of the little game she’d won, she had to be careful about what she asked.
One afternoon, an hour or so before they were to have lunch, she knocked on his door, her short list of questions sorted and clear in her head. Klaus opened it, showing no hint of surprise as if he had known she was just outside, which, she thought irritably as she made her way in, was probably true.
“So, what are your questions?”
A bit relieved by his immediate delving into the subject without the stifling niceties, she sat down, squashing the wave of nervousness that started to clog up her throat.
No weaknesses allowed.
Clearing her throat, Caroline voiced her first question, “What do you know about what I am?”
Klaus regarded her for a minute. “I know that you have some sort of fire magic flowing through you, and by the physical changes that occur when you’re particularly angry I reckon you have some shape-shifting abilities. You also get awfully furious when I touch something that you consider yours.”
A surge of disappointment filled her as she was presented with more or less nothing new about her monster. “I would, however, like to put a name to you, sweetheart,” he said.
“Dragon,” she said distractedly. “At least that was what that book in the library I found said.”
“I suspected,” his faint whisper followed.
Her interest was piqued again, but at Klaus’s devious expression she didn’t attempt to ask; she’d probably waste all her questions and he still wouldn’t tell her anything. The bastard.
“What made you what you are?”
He narrowed his eyes as if lost in a memory then replied, “Werewolves, a very foolish mistake and a very guilt-ridden mother.” For a minute a hint of remorse made its way onto Klaus’s face before disappearing, replaced by the familiar smirk. “And it’s vampire, love. Not blood-sucker, I do hate the term accurate as it may be. So unrefined.”
She laughed at his mildly offended tone.
“You know, I have to say this idea is one of the most childish things I have heard of,” she paused. “but since I have you so kindly at my disposal, I am not complaining.”
The sunlight stretched languidly across the field; a breeze soft and light blew through his hair. Caroline, hair untied and wild, walked slowly, savoring the peacefulness.
“That girl you asked that friend of yours about, who is she?” Neither of them stopped but she shot him a look of curiosity.
“Didn’t you have your round of twenty questions already?” he asked, sighing.
“There were five, actually.” He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “And don’t try and weasel yourself out of my question, especially since you tricked me into wasting my remaining ones and then let me continue on so you could have this walk.”
“I didn’t trick you into anything,” he reminded her. “I’m hunting her if you must know.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “What did the poor girl ever do to you?”
“Thwarted my carefully constructed five hundred-year old plan, ensured I could never attempt to do so ever again and then had the indecency to flee before I punished her thoroughly.”
“How dare she,” she said dryly.
He didn’t appreciate her comment, the faint ghost of his wolf that he had carried with him for nearly all his life a sharp reminder of what he was, truly was. Leaving behind such thoughts, he focused his attention on Caroline again. “I’m leaving in one week.”
“Really?” she asked gleefully.
“Oh, don’t sound so happy, you’re hurting my feelings.”
She breathed suddenly as if in realization “You have them?” she asked, shocked.
At his humorously offended look, she giggled heartily, the sound ringing with such clarity for a moment he felt his mind humming with contentment. She laughed and laughed and he chuckled along with her.
“Join me tomorrow?” he requested after Caroline had started picking up some stray flowers. Her fingers moved, trying to weave them together.
“You are leaving in a week and you plan to try and woo me in that time? That is an overestimation of confidence if I have ever seen one.”
He smiled slightly. “I do like a challenge.”
Caroline’s eyes narrowed before she nodded. “Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow then. But I’ll be the one who decides where to go.”
“As you wish, sweetheart.”
The waves crashed and rolled, pulling the sand from its shores and enveloping it until the coarse particles became one with them. She closed her eyes, allowing her heightened senses to be consumed by the feelings surrounding her, though still acutely aware of the gaze watching her.
After some time, she turned her head towards him, too curious to see what he seemed so transfixed on. Shock bloomed inside her, finding Klaus’s gaze nearly devouring her.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Caroline asked, bemused.
“Curious,” he drawled out.
A snort found its way out of her at the way the word came out, managing to sound both lazy and focused. “About?”
“I’ve never seen someone like you before.”
She bit her lips coyly. “So I’m one of a kind of then.”
“Perhaps?”
She laughed, skin wrinkling at the edges of her eyes at his teasing manner. “You know, someone with your kind of charm shouldn’t be allowed to roam as freely as you do.”
“So you admit I’m charming.”
She held a finger up, pointing it at him. “I never said you weren’t.” She sighed, rubbing her toes in the sand. Her blue sundress brushed against her skin. A deep desire filled her, her body singing with the need to fly and soar and just be. She contemplated changing, the clouds were perfect for her but..
“Go.” Klaus said, his face hoisting an expression of longing and understanding.
Caroline gave him a grin and then stood up, dusting off the particles of sand as she ran to the cave on the far end of the shore. She untied the laces and then..
She let go.
She was magnificent, Klaus thought as he spotted the golden dragon making its way through the clouds. She flew elegantly, her wings moving with extreme precision and well-acquainted comfort. He’d have to ask her about it. Later. For now, he’d satisfy himself watching her gliding across the sky, like a bird finally set free from its cage.
He longed to see her change into this form, to watch how the skin changed into scales, fingers into claws and wings blooming. Lethal and majestic, power rippling in her veins.
But he did not have the right to that intimacy, not yet. For as much as he wanted it, Klaus knew he did not have Caroline’s complete trust.
Yet.
I’m super excited that I finally posted this one shot since I had so much fun writing it and couldn’t wait to share. Please, tell me what you thought because I’d love to know.
#klaroline#klaroline drabbles#klaroline fanfiction#klarolineinfinity#my drabbles#my writing#accidental rambler#*kconeshot
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