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Klaus wasn't supposed to mean anything to Caroline.
He left for New Orleans, that should've been the end, the last page to the small chapter of their endless lives when they knew each other.
But of course, that wasn't it.
She insisted she didn't care that after all his promises for endless love he just upped and left, that it didn't split her heart to its seams, but then Silas used his face out of everyone's to get to her—showering her with pretty words and his promises for forevermore— and it worked.
Even with him a thousand miles away, he was there, clawing underneath her skin. He was more than a stain to her porcelain skin, he settled in her bones and refused to let her go— not like she'd want him to either way.
—
Caroline made Klaus promise to never come back—sealed it among the trees of Mystic Falls' forest in between sloppy kisses and hungry hands— and that should've finally been it for them, even if it was more of a confession of her wanting him than an actual goodbye— really by now, she should've learned to stop feeding into false hope.
He's miles away and his presence still looms all over her— Tyler tells her she sees the good in people, she can read between the lines.
They all ask how she could look past all that Klaus has done, to remember every flicker of hurt he'd ever caused them and all she wants to do is scream because she doesn't get it either; he's miles away, dwindling into nothing more than some far-fetched nightmare of the dingy little town that is Mystic Falls yet he's still a presence set in stone in her bones— in her heart—no matter how much she might claim she wants to, she couldn't shake him off.
—
She shreds his drawing—which she regrets almost instantly because it makes her feel oh-so-beautiful and so seen—and that still isn't the end.
She doesn't have his drawing but she has his voicemail of him saying that even in his favorite place in the world he's thinking of her saved and she plays it one too many times.
She doesn't have his drawing but she has the blue princess dress and the prom dress he gave her perfectly tucked away in her closet, dusting the boxes they're kept in with precision and making sure the dresses stay intact, like they're her most treasured possessions (she can't say they don't make the list).
And she might not have his drawing anymore or him in any close proximity but she's got every word he's ever said to her engraved as brittle and honeyed scriptures in her bones; tucked away in her heart for safekeeping.
Even with him miles away, he's there—persistent and unyielding as he is—no amount of apparent freedom gets her clean from him (because the mark he left is more than skin-deep, it's mixed with what she's had since her genesis and refused to leave, but she now knows there's no use in denying it, instead she clings to it like it's all she'll ever need).