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Nonsensical, that was the only word Caroline could use to describe her life.
In no fault of her own, she got swept up in a life filled to the brim with the most nonsensical of instances. Things that if she heard from someone else she would’ve shrugged off as ridiculous or just laughed it off—and she had, she had.
When Bonnie and Elena had tried to explain ‘Emily The Ghost’ to her she had laughed, oblivious to all the horrors that laid all around, underneath her feet and up ahead, but she had unknowingly already been too deep in to remain that way.
So she died—and really it had only been a matter of time, her life had been nothing but sand in a shrinking hourglass—and then she was reborn a blood-sucking monster and nothing in her life made sense anymore.
Her life had become one impossible thing twisting and curling around other even more impossible things. The fact that she even lived—with borrowed blood running through her veins, sharp pearly white teeth, and an all-consuming want trembling inside her, but alive and breathing nonetheless—was impossible in itself.
Impossible. Nonsensical.
She’d had to get used to the most impossible of things, live through literal nonsense—and sometimes she would just sit and laugh at all her life had become because if not, she would burst into uncontrollable sobs—and yet there were just things she couldn’t wrap her head around.
Klaus Mikaelson and the arrangement they had was one of those things.
She was sure it would not have mattered if it had been anyone else, but Klaus had always been an exception; a persistent and unyielding force that clawed underneath her skin.
Klaus Mikaelson, the man who was anything but just a simple man, whose name made people tremble in terror. He was notorious for being unfeeling, for not caring about anyone or anything, and yet, he held his heart out to her—bloody red and beating—in his outstretched palm.
It was something she could never wrap her head around, the fact that one of the oldest, most powerful creatures in the world wanted her—girly little neurotic control freak her—and to give her the world and all it offered, to make her his queen. And while the offer was almost too tempting to resist, he wanted her heart—beating and bloody red in her open palm—in return and she just couldn’t, not yet.
Which is how they ended up with their arrangement.
—
It started in the midst of what was supposed to be the end.
Klaus had abruptly left town, leaving her with all his promises of endless love she wasn’t sure he could even fulfill and a voicemail telling her he was in New Orleans and that she’d love it there—yeah, she could read between the lines on that one.
She tried to bury all she felt deep where she couldn’t reach, to convince herself that him leaving didn’t make her feel anything, that it was fine.
And then he came back.
He came back and told her of his plan on taking back New Orleans and of his long-lost pseudo-son. He came back and told her he was leaving again.
And she was so angry.
Angry at him, at herself and her friends for making it all so complicated for her. Angry at the world for being so fucked up. Just so angry, all the time.
And she just wanted to stop being so angry.
He gave her a choice: she could be honest with him and he would leave, truly leave, and never come back to this dingy little town to bother them. And she gave in because she just wanted to stop being so angry, and well, doing what she wanted without worrying about the consequences was what she needed.
So she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, kissing him just how she had secretly longed to for so long. And he pressed her back against the bark of a tree and sealed their goodbye in between sloppy kisses and hungry hands.
The world shook with a vengeance when their lips pressed and fingers dug into each other’s skin in goodbye, for this—whatever they had—was over.
They were over.
—
Caroline came to learn endings were rarely a thing when one was immortal.
What one might’ve thought of as an ending never truly is because it would always end up morphing into something else.
Like when her mom had died—too young, too tragically—she had thought her world was ending, that the Earth would stop spinning and the sky would fall because her world had already ended so what was the use for the rest of the world.
That world-ending grief morphed into something else: a need to leave, to escape from that tiny little town because it was suffocating her.
So she left Mystic Falls and leaving made all the difference.
Even with the grief weighing down so heavily on her bones, she felt freer than she had in years, it felt as if she could finally breathe.
With time and extraneous effort, she let her heart heal—heal as much as a grieving heart could, knowing that the pain would always be there, but letting it dull, learning to simply live alongside it, and accepting some days would be better than others.
Slowly as her heart healed, she could focus on the fact that she finally made it out of Mystic Falls. Focus on how she was now able to do whatever the hell she wanted it.
It was through this that she truly came to learn how endings were rarely ever a thing.
While on a spontaneous trip to Spain, she ran into Klaus in a tiny little bar in Barcelona.
She was sure her heart had stopped and restarted as she saw him there. Yes, she had talked to him in between their tryst in the woods and then, more frequently than she would’ve liked to admit, but this was the first time in years that she was face to face with him.
She pulled him into a warm embrace—because despite it all she did care for him, by then she could accept that to herself— and he dragged her to the bar. He ordered a scotch and she a sangria, and they talked. Properly caught each other up on their lives and just talked about everything and anything (after all, to each other they were one of the only people that they could talk so freely to).
Under the yellow light of streetlights and the clicking of heels and boots on cobblestone, they walked to his apartment. Once they got to his apartment, drunk on each other’s company, the night naturally ended up with them sweaty and tangled in silky sheets.
For once, Caroline didn’t feel guilty over wanting him, she felt good, really good, it was the best time she’d had in so long. And she wanted to do it again, wanted to feel this free and loose and fun, but she also knew she couldn’t.
Being with Klaus meant being all in, she knew this and she knew he had been more than all in for years, but she was nowhere near ready to hand over her whole heart to him—especially when she wasn’t sure her heart was even whole in her chest.
She told him just that, once again giving honesty instead of her full heart—she had promised him honesty all those years ago and for all her faults, she always kept promises, no matter how much they weighed down inside her, taking over the space where her organs should be.
And he was so understanding. More understanding than anyone so evil should be, but only so understanding because it was her and Caroline had come to learn that there was little he wouldn't do for her—and what a terrifying thought. A wicked creature filled to the brim with darkness, feared by all, who was at her mercy; it was too much, much more than the pieces of her heart could handle then.
So just like all those years before he gave her a choice—one where she could have him and keep her heart intact—and just like all those years before, she took it because she was done letting all the noise around her take over her life; because she was sure this was what she needed.
Thus, their arrangement came to be.
—
It was quite simple really, almost uncomplicated—though it could never be fully so, since anything to do with them had no room for simplicity. Anytime they saw each other, by chance or otherwise, they belonged to each other as much as a person could belong to someone else; his was the neck where she sank her teeth in, hers was the neck he pressed a soft kiss to.
Anytime they saw each other they acted as any couple would: arms linked together as they walked down bustling streets with twinkling lights, holding each other tightly as they swayed to soft music, lips pressing softly and nails digging into skin, leaving messy sheets and clothes strewn about.
But as soon as they were out of each other’s sight they were free to do whatever they wanted, roll around with whoever they wanted.
They never told each other about any other flings or lovers or whatnot, there was no need when they were each other and well, it’s not like either really wanted to know either way.
She didn't ask him to wait for her as long as he didn’t ask her to stay.
Those were their unspoken rules and while they remained unspoken, they both adhered to them because if not the whole thing would fall apart (and that was the last thing they wanted after all, Klaus was a selfish man and wanted to pretend he had her all to himself while Caroline was not ready to fully give in).
As long as they adhered to these rules, everything would be fine. Things would stay as simple as they intended for them to be.
—
As it turned out, neither was good at leaving things up to chance.
Klaus mentioned he had some business in Norway, typical villain stuff she was sure, and she told him how she’d always wanted to see the Northern Lights. He replied by letting her know she could join him if she wanted to, that he’d get her a plane ticket right then and there.
And she said yes.
Because…why not? She found that recently, with anything to do with him, her answer always ended up being why not?
She touched down in Bodø, Norway after a ten-and-a-half-hour flight. Klaus had been there waiting for her, first in line by the gate, and when she reached him she leaned in and pressed her lips to his, just because she could.
Klaus booked them a suite with two rooms and even with the two beds and a pull-out couch, they ended up sharing a room. Skin to skin in the messy sheets, holding tight and keeping each other warm on freezing cold nights.
She held his hand as he showed her around, telling her about architecture and the people and the beauty all around. He paused to tuck a strand of hair the wind kept blowing behind her ear, her hands too preoccupied holding him and a cup of hot chocolate, her only current sources of warmth.
He took a picture of her in front of the world’s largest maelstrom. Her smile widened impossibly so at the way he was looking at her from behind the camera—eyes soft like they only ever were for her and his dimples hollowing out in his cheeks from his grin.
At night they looked up at the sky and at the Northern Lights. From the first night to the last, Caroline was completely mesmerized by them, her eyes glued to the swirls of vibrant colors, for the first time in so long just felt peace.
Her eyes were vibrant blue and wide as she looked up, her lips curling softly. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Mesmerizing,” he replied, his voice deep as he drew out the vowels. She looked back at him to find him already staring at her, eyes shining in a way he would’ve probably hidden if it hadn’t been her.
She leaned in, pressed her lips to his, and kissed him, kissed him, and kissed him under the colorful, shining sky.
And she leaned in and kissed him, kissed him, and kissed him again once under the ceilings of Bodø’s airport, sealing their goodbye with soft kisses and warm hands.
(And later, she found a folded paper in her jacket pocket, one she didn’t remember putting in there.
She’d frowned as she carefully unfolded her but it smoothed out and morphed into surprise once she saw what it was.
It was a drawing of her.
She was smiling so softly and with so much warmth that she seemed to be the sun in the forever winter of Norway. Her eyes were wide and shining as she looked up at the sky, at the northern lights which were very clearly depicted in the sky in a way only an artist as skilled as him could, but despite the bright swirl of colors in the sky, she was the main focus. The focal point.
She looked…beautiful wasn’t even the right word for it. Ethereal. Godly.
She looked like she was the most important thing in the world.
She held the drawing to her chest, for once letting her feelings roam free inside of her, letting herself feel. And what she felt, what she wanted, was for him to be there.
To kiss him, kiss him, and kiss him.)
—
They go on as time does, meeting here and then but way more often than Caroline had originally intended to.
She had booked a trip to sunny Punta Cana, a getaway to the most idyllic of beaches, and told him she could join if he wanted to. She didn’t know if he would, after all, she knew he wasn’t a fan of the sun and sea-salted air and yet, he found her there.
He took a quick trip to rainy Chicago and invited her there. They barely left his home in the city in between all the messy sheets and splashes of her colors on the canvas, yet they both left feeling lighter than when they got there.
She told him of her plan to go to the Festival of Colors in India and he took a flight there too, meeting under the scorching sun of March. They grinned, wider than one would think is humanly possible, as they saw each other smeared in colors from head to toe. She cradled his face, red from the pain, her thumbs leaving streaks of green where they caressed.
And somehow, they ended up in Paris.
She had no intentions of going to Paris anytime soon and neither did he. It was not something already happening and that they decided to just invite the other along, no, the trip to Paris was the first trip of theirs that they had planned together, that they knew the other would for sure be there for the whole trip.
And it wasn’t just a big deal because for once this was completely up to them—because there was not even a bit of some external force pushing them together, just them—no, there was also the fact that all those years ago when she’d been so young and naive, when she’d tried to keep him out clawing underneath her skin and to heart, he had promised her he would take her there, and now he would.
The reason that in all the years since she had left Mystic Falls she hadn’t even stepped a foot in France was that she had been waiting to be ready to let him cash in his promise and take her there, and now she was. She didn’t think this would change anything but god, she felt like it should.
She was ready to cash in this promise….so was she ready to let him cash all the other ones? Was she ready to hand him her heart, bloody red and beating?
She shoved those thoughts away, deciding that she’d let herself enjoy herself on their trip to Paris and then at the end, she’d decide.
But all her plans were thrown out the window once she saw him.
He looked the same as he always did—light hair curling at the top of his head, blue eyes calculating as he scanned the world around him, necklaces hanging from his neck and henleys tight against his chest—but she hadn’t seen him in months, and seeing him again let her know what she already knew: she would not be able to leave Paris without him.
So she kept that little fact to herself but it lingered with everything they did, in the way she kissed him more passionately and held tighter into his hand.
He took her to the Louvre and led her from painting to painting and she watched the way his eyes sparked as he passionately went over each of them.
Caroline dragged him down Champs-Élysées, arms full of shopping bags, he rolled his eyes but complied, holding her bags and letting her drag him around, as if there was much he wouldn’t do for her.
A tourist took a picture of them in front of the Eiffel Tower, with her grinning at the camera and him smiling softly at her. She leaned in and kissed him there, and later, when they’d gotten to the top of the Eiffel Tower—thank god for vampire abilities, truly—she’d leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
At night, he pressed her down into silky, sweaty sheets and kissed her—tasting bread and pastries and wine.
The days in Paris passed by in a happy haze and sooner than she’d thought possible, it was coming to an end.
As the end was quickly approaching, with only a couple of days left, Caroline finally knew what she had to do.
Like she had promised him too all those years ago, she told him the truth but this time, it came with her full heart too (though this whole arrangement was designed for her to keep her heart intact, she had unknowingly been giving him small but bloody red and beating pieces of her heart the whole time).
She told him the truth. She told him to stay.
Seeing as there was little he could deny her of, he did.
And this time it was him who leaned in, fierce and with purpose, and kissed her, kissed her, and kissed her.