Just a little oneshot I had in mind ;). Got a request? Tweet me Klaroperv. Enjoy

It was probably the last Mystic Fall's ball she would ever attend, Caroline Forbes promised herself. Sure she had loved the chance of dressing up and making herself look beautiful, but there was this rush of excitement that wasn't there anymore. Maybe she had lost the spark that had made her love balls in the first place. If her friend's hadn't thrown the ball themselves, she would have backed out of it. But Elena had thought the town needed something fun, considering all the horrible things that had happened in the last few weeks. She couldn't blame her. It was getting boring, and it was something Caroline could never cope well with.

After dancing with Stefan, Matt and Tyler, she was ready to call it a night. She could have chosen to dance with Damon who would have totally love the opportunity to call her out on being the most horrible dancer, which was stupid when she was good at it, she had decided that she didn't want to deal with him. Ever. She was beginning to get tired of his bullshit. The only reason why she was tolerating the older Salvatore was simply because he was Elena's boyfriend. And Bonnie actually considered him her friend.

Caroline sighed the fiftieth times and counting, downing the last remaining liquid in her glass, she licked her lips and took one last look at her friends before she started moving her legs. Descending a staircase, she crossed through the entrance hall and walked along another hallway toward she might have hoped to be a garden. The carpet beneath her feet muffled all sound… but suddenly she sensed that someone was behind her. She felt a frisson of warning across her exposed upper back. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Stefan was following her, moving with surprising swiftness. His hand wrapped around her waist, forcing her to stop. It was a sign of how arrogant Stefan had become that he would do that to her in a place where they could so easily be seen. Gasping in outrage, Caroline spun to face him. She was confronted by the sight of his perfect tailored tux, while the scent of his cologned assaulted her nostrils.

"You look fucking hot," Stefan muttered, his breath pungent with the scent of wine. "I think we should resume what we were doing earlier before we got interrupted by Matt."

"You despicable—" Caroline began in fury, but he interrupted the flow of words by clamping his fingers on either side of her jaw and squeezing hard.

"I'll tell everyone everything," he said, his lips very close to hers. "How you let Jeremy died. How you let the Mikaelsons finally avenged their brother's death." His body pressed hers against the wall, nearly squeezing the breath from her. "How do you think Elena would feel about that? or Bonnie? Matt and Tyler? Unless," he said, his sour respirations striking her face, "you decide how you'd continue to deny me what I want."

"Then go and tell them," Caroline said, her eyes blazing with hatred. "Tell them everything and be done with it. I'd rather be hated by them than let a repulsive asshole like you to touch me. It was already bad enough that you made them think we're a couple, but I'll not let you touch me."

Stefan stared at her in incredulous fury. "You'll regret it. You'll wish you have never said this," he said with a gleam.

She smiled with cold contempt. "I don't think so. I'm not scared of you anymore. I can live with my friends hating me for a few years, but I know they won't hate me forever." Before Stefan let go of her, Caroline caught a movement out of the corner of her vision. Turning her head to the side, she saw someone walking toward them — a man who was moving with the stealthy strides of a stalking panther. It must have appeared to him that she and Stefan had been caught in an embrace.

"Let me go," she hissed to him, and shoved hard at his chest. He stepped back, finally allowing her to take a full breath, and shot her a glance of malevolent promise before walking in the opposite direction of the approaching man.

Rattled, Caroline stared into the face of Klaus Mikaelson as he took her by the shoulders. He was watching Stefan hurry away, with a hard, almost blood-thirsty gaze that made her blood turn cold. Then he looked down at her in a way that caused her breath to catch. Until that moment she had never seen Klaus without his usual nonchalance. No matter how she had insulted or cut or spurned him, he had always reacted with predictable jeering self-assurance. But it seemed that she had finally done something that had provoked genuine fury. He looked ready to strangle her.

"Were you following me?" she asked with forced calmness, wondering how he had managed to appear at that particular moment. She was so glad he did.

"I saw you leaving," he said, "and Stefan trailing after you. I followed because I wanted to find out what was really going on between the two of you."

Her gaze turned defiant. "And have you found out?"

"I don't know," came his dangerously soft reply. "Tell me, Caroline — when you said that you could do better, was this what you had in mind? Jumping into the arms of that idiotic lad just because he's giving you attention? You think foolish Stefan Salvatore is the right one? I wouldn't have believed you to be that much of a fool."

"You fucking hypocrite," Caroline whispered furiously. "You're angry with me for being with him and not you — well, you tell me something — why does it matter to whom I give my heart to" She couldn't have told him what was going on, that she hated Stefan just as much, and there was nothing between them. But Klaus was acting as if he had the right to say in her own matters.

"Because you don't want him," Klaus said through his teeth. "Because there's no one in this sodding town who deserves you. And because you want me."

Caroline did not understand the seething tangle of emotions inside herself, or why this confrontation had begun to fill her with a strange, terrible exhilaration. She wanted to hit him, throw herself on him, provoke him until the last few fragments of his self-control were smashed to powder. "Let me guess — you think you deserve me. Because you're going to show me the world. What was the places you had mentioned—Oh, yeah, Rome, Paris, Tokyo." She laughed scornfully as she saw the answer on his face."The answer is no. no. no and definitely no.

She stopped as she heard the chatter of more people coming along the hallway. Exasperated and desperate, she whirled around to find a door that she could slip through, to keep from being seen alone with Klaus. Catching her in one arm, Klaus hauled her inside the closest room and shut the door smartly.

Caroline jerked away from him. He reached out to steady a lamp that had nearly been overturned by the brush of her gown. "If you can stand to be Stefan's girlfriend," Klaus muttered, following as she retreated farther into the room, "God knows you can stand to be mine. You could say that you're not attracted to me, but we both know that you'd be lying. Tell me your price, Caroline. What would it take to win you over? Flowers? Poems? Diamonds? The bloody earth? Done. Let's get this over with—I have had enough waiting for you."

"Was that supposed to be romantic?" she said with an unsteady laugh. "My God. You could sweep any girl with your words, Klaus. But you're wrong. You don't think Stefan isn't the one for me. You think everyone is not right for me. I can easily go out of here and ask Matt out. Matt, who is the nicest guy by the way."

His eyes were as dark as volcanic glass. "Being his girlfriend would turn into a living hell for you. He'll never love a vampire. He'll never even know you."

"I don't want love," she said, stricken by his words. "I just want—" She paused as a sudden pain centered in her chest, in a ball of unendurable coldness. Staring up into his unreadable face she tried again. "I just want—"

There was a sound at the door. The knob began to turn. Startled, Caroline realized that someone was about to enter the room — and then all hope of anyone not seeing her with Klaus would vanish like so much dust in the wind. Reacting instinctively, she seized his arm and dragged him with her toward the window, framed by large curtains. Jerking the curtains shut, Caroline flung herself on Klaus and clapped her hand over his mouth, just as someone… or several ones… entered the room. She could hear the muffled sounds of voices, and some banging and clanking that perplexed her until she heard the sound of familiar laughter. Oh God—Elena. What would she think if she saw her with her brother's murderer?

There was just enough light spilling over the top of the curtain to cast a faint glow over their features — enough for her to see the evil smile that had suddenly appeared in Klaus' eyes. One word or sound from him in these incriminating circumstances, and she was done for. Her hand pressed harder over his mouth, her eyes only inches from his as she pinned him with a gaze that threatened murder.

Don't you fucking dare.

Wondering if they would be caught, Caroline stared blindly at curtains, willing them to remain closed. She felt the touch of Klaus' breath against the edge of her hand and realized that his jaw had gone taut. Glancing at him, she saw that the malicious amusement had vanished from his gaze, replaced by a look that was far more alarming. She froze, her heart beginning to hammer so heavily that it hurt, and she stared at him with widening eyes as his free hand lifted slowly. Her fingers were still clamped over his mouth… he began to pry them delicately, one by one, starting with the smallest, while his breath fanned in quickening surges against the side of her hand. Her head moved in a stiff little shake, and she strained away from him, even as his arm tightened around her waist. She was utterly trapped… helpless to prevent Klaus from doing whatever he wanted.

The last finger was pulled away, and he pushed her hand down and gripped the back of her neck. Her fingers fluttered against his sleeves, her upper body arching slightly as his grasp on her nape tightened. He was not hurting her, but he had made it impossible for her to move or struggle. As his head lowered, her lips parted with a silent gasp, and her mind went dark.

His mouth was on hers, gentle but sure as he coaxed a response from her. She was filled with instant fever, burning everywhere, helpless against the onslaught of a desire like nothing she had ever known before. The memory of their one kiss was nothing compared to this… perhaps because he was no longer a stranger to her. She wanted him with a desperation that frightened her. The pressure of his lips floated lightly over hers, straying briefly to her chin, her cheek, leaving trails of soft fire wherever they ventured, before he returned to her mouth with more explicit pressure. She felt the tip of his tongue against hers, the silken touch so unexpected that she would have recoiled had he not been holding her so tightly.

Her friend's voices jangled in her ears, reminding her of the imminent possibility of discovery. She forced herself to relax against his, her body shaking. For the next few minutes, she would let him do anything to her, anything, just so long as he didn't betray their presence. Klaus tasted her again, searching with subtle strokes of his tongue. She was shocked by the intimate exploration, and even more by the unspeakable sensations that shot through the vulnerable places of her body. Delicious weakness overtook her, and she wobbled in his hold, her hands groping for his neck, his hair, thick and silky against her fingers. The tentative inquiry of her hands caused him to draw an out-of-rhythm breath, as if her touch had affected him intensely. He slid one hand up to the side of her face, cradling her cheek as he pulled back just enough to nibble and tease, catching gently at her upper lip, then the lower one, lavishing her with feathery brushes of warmth. She exerted shaky pressure behind his neck, urging him back down to her, and when his mouth took hers in another penetrating kiss, she nearly moaned aloud. Before the sound could escape her dilated throat, she tore her mouth away and buried her face against his shoulder.

She felt the quick rise and fall of his chest, and the hot rush of his breath against her hair. Grasping the mass of pinned-up curls at the back of her head, he pulled her head back to expose her throat. The burning path of his lips began at the tiny hollow just beneath her right ear, awakening exquisitely sensitive nerves as he traced the line of a delicate vein with his tongue. His fingers slid over the top of her shoulder, thumb finding the wing of her collarbone, his open hand exploring the fragile architecture of her body. Nuzzling the side of her throat, he found a place that made her shiver, and he lingered there until she felt another moan threatening to break from her kiss-dampened lips.

Pushing at him frantically, she managed to divert him for all of three seconds, after which he sought her mouth with another hungering kiss. His palm brushed over the silk that covered her breast, once, twice, thrice. With each slow pass, the heat of his skin sank through the veil of fabric. As her nipple tingled and budded, he stroked it tenderly with the backs of his fingers until it tightened even more. The increasing pressure of his kiss forced her head back in a position of surrender, opening her to the lazy caress of his tongue, the artful investigation of his hands. This wasn't supposed to happen, her nerves shattering with pleasure, her body consumed with sensual heat.

He made her forget everything in those silent, febrile moments — she lost awareness of time, of where they were, and even who she was. All she knew was that she needed him closer, deeper, tighter… his skin, his hard flesh, his mouth wandering in heated trails over her body. She gripped at his shirt until it loosened from his trousers, clutching handfuls of it in desperate need of the warm skin beneath. He seemed to understand that she had no experience at controlling this level of desire — his kisses became soothing, his hands beginning to move over her back in calming strokes. However, the more he tried to ease her craving, the worse it became, her mouth moving frantically beneath his, her body twisting in an anxious rhythm.

He finally resorted to taking his mouth away and holding her in a crushing embrace, his lips buried against the flushed curve of her neck and shoulder. Caroline was absurdly grateful for the brutality of his grip, his arms forming heavy bands of muscle that helped to contain her violent trembling. They stood like that for what seemed an eternity, until she became hazily aware that the room was silent. Sometime during the past few minutes, her friends had left. Lifting his head, Klaus slowly reached for the edge of a curtain panel and moved it an inch to the side. Seeing that the room was empty once more, he returned his attention to Caroline, using the tip of his thumb to brush back a lock of glinting hair that had fallen over her ear.

"They're gone," came his rasping whisper.

Too stunned to think coherently, Caroline looked at him without speaking. His fingertips traced the hot surface of her cheek, the swollen cushion of her lips. With something like despair, she felt the skyrocketing response of her unappeased body, the renewed vigor of her pulse, the wash of pleasure that slipped over her skin. That was the time to pull away from him, or her disappearance would soon be remarked on. To her shame, she remained still, her body hungrily absorbing sensations as Klaus continued to caress her. His hand moved to the back of her gown, and she felt the deft workings of his fingers, even as he bent and kissed her mouth again. This time she could no longer hold back the sounds; the small sobs that broke from her throat, the whimper of relief as the tight bodice of her gown was loosened. Continuing to kiss her, Klaus drew her down with him to the window seat. He cradled her in his lap, his fingers smoothing the bodice downward, and he made a sound pleasure against her mouth as he discovered the fullness of her breasts. Suddenly frightened by the realization of what she was allowing,

She pushed weakly at his wrist. He lifted her body higher and pressed his mouth to the center of her chest, where her heart thumped in a hard, regular rhythm. His supportive arms maintained the arch of her back as his lips slid downward to the plump rise of her breast. At the touch of his breath on her nipple, she stopped straining and went still, her hand balling into fists against his shoulders. He took her into his mouth, his tongue brushing gently until the peak was wet and tender-hard, and her veins were filled with simmering honey. He whispered reassurances as his hand smoothed over her breast, his thumb rubbing the glaze of moisture into her glowing skin. Murmuring incoherently, she circled her arms around his neck, and gasped as his mouth closed over her other nipple and tugged gently.

A new urgency crept through her, something that drew shuddering moans from her chest, and made her body tighten rhythmically in his lap. Klaus was tormented by the same compelling

need — she could feel the violence of his heartbeat and the strain of his lungs as they labored with each breath. But he seemed far more able to bridle his passion than she, the movements of his hands and mouth remaining careful and controlled. She thrashed, her fingers clawing at the sleeves of his tux and shirt — too many clothes, everywhere, and she was going mad with the need to feel his skin on hers.

"Easy, sweetheart," he whispered against her cheek. "Relax. Stop moving…" But she couldn't make her body obey, couldn't seem to stop the writhing of her hips and the shivering pleas that came from her kiss-bruised mouth.

He continued to murmur softly to her, brushing his lips over her face, his fingers massaging the delicate hollows where her pulse beat frantically. She felt him adjusting her clothes, gently lifting her as if she were a doll, fastening the back of her gown. At one point he even gave a soft, shaky laugh, as if bemused by his own actions. Later, she would come to reflect that he had seemed just as dazed as she was; but right then, in the flush of frustrated longing, she could not unravel her tangled thoughts. As the desire ebbed from her body, it left behind a sickening residue of shame.

Struggling from his lap, Caroline faced away from him, her legs quivering. She could summon only two words to break the heavy silence. Without looking at him, she said hoarsely, "Never again." Pushing through the paneled curtains, she left the room as quickly as she was able and bolted down the hallway.

After she had fled the music room, Klaus had remained there for at least a half hour, fighting to settle his roaring passion, letting the fire in his blood cool. He straightened his clothes and raked a hand through his hair, moodily contemplating his next move. "Caroline," he muttered, more troubled and confused than he had ever been in his life. The fact that he had been brought to this state by a woman was infuriating. He, who was known as a heartless person, incapable of feelings, had made the clumsiest possible offer for her, and he had been roundly rejected. Deservedly so. He should never have tried to force her before she had even admitted that she wanted him. But the suspicion that she might have something going on with Stefan…Stefan, of all men, had nearly driven Klaus mad with jealousy, and all his usual skills had deserted him.

Remembering how it had felt to kiss her, to finally caress the warm, supple silk of her skin, Klaus felt passion threatening to boil up inside him once again. With all his experience, he had thought he was familiar with every physical sensation imaginable. But he had just forcibly been made aware that sleeping with Caroline would be a different matter altogether. The experience would involve his emotions as well as his body… emotions so alarming that he could not yet bring himself to examine them.

The attraction between them had become dangerous — no less so for him than it was for her. And it was clear that Klaus needed to gain some perspective on the situation. At the moment, however, he wasn't thinking too well.

Leaving the room with a muttered curse, he straightened the knot of his black bowtie. Tension strung through his limbs, shortening his usual long stride and making him feel predatory and volatile as he walked toward the ballroom. The prospect of another social evening was nearly maddening. His tolerance for extended parties had never been high — he was not a man who enjoyed hours of indolent chatter and idle amusements. Besides, he wasn't invited. He was simply crashing this ball.

Brooding, he went into the ballroom and iglanced speculatively over the crowd. He immediately caught sight of Caroline, occupying a chair in the corner with Stefan at her side. Stefan was openly infatuated with her, his enraptured gaze making no secret of his interest. Caroline looked subdued and flushed, seeming to have trouble meeting Stefan's admiring gaze. She spoke very little and sat with her hands tightly knotted in her lap. Klaus' eyes narrowed as he watched her. She was feisty, bold, loud and sassy, a decidedly ambitious creature who needed a partner of equal strength. Stefan would never be able to manage her. He was too much of a lousy person — too mild and arrogant, and too much of an idiot. Caroline would never be happy. She would come to despise him for the very things she should have admired… and Stefan would shrink from the qualities in Caroline that Klaus would have relished.

"I didn't know you were foolish enough to come here, but I can see that you proved me wrong."

"Good evening, brother."

"Nikalus." Dragging his gaze away from the pair, Klaus turned toward his brother. "What possessed you to come here? These people aren't your friends, and if I'm not mistaken, you killed Jeremy Gilbert if memory has served me right. What did you came here for? Miss Forbes—"

"Elijah," Klaus shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced around the ballroom with simmering impatience. "We have stayed long enough in Mystic Falls — We need to return to New Orleans, to see what is happening there. We can't leave our dear sister Rebekah in charge for long."

"What of Miss Forbes?" came the soft-voiced question.

Klaus considered that for a moment. "I think," he said slowly, "that I'm going to wait and see."

Elijah responded with a brief nod. "When will we depart?"

"Early in the morning." He could not repress a long, taut sigh. "I think it's time we leave this godforsaken town. Alert Rebekah of our change of plan."

"Very well, Nikalus. And what about Miss Forbes? Will you bid her farewell?"

"Now, Elijah." His older brother nodded before walking off, leaving Klaus to stare back at Caroline, his heart yearning for her. He inhaled sharply before he made up his mind on what he was going to do. He quickly followed on his brother's footsteps, walking slowly, like the entire energy on his body had been drained.

When he came back to the mansion, Klaus had sat down and wrote a letter, retiring to bed when he was satisfied that the contents were pure honesty, a plea, promises and he awaited a reply. When the sun came up, Klaus and Elijah had gathered the necessary things they needed to take with them to New Orleans. Klaus had been anxious, as he waited for Caroline to show up in his doorstep and allow him to take her with them, where they could finally begin their forever. But when the last thing was loaded up in the car, when Elijah was set and ready, when Klaus had taken a glance at his watch, his heart broke.

She wasn't coming.

When he got inside the car, ignoring his brother's sympathetic stare. He knew she wasn't coming. Why did he have hope that she would choose him over her town and her friends? It was foolish of him to think so, at least his heart could have been spared of hurting so badly.

"I'm sorry, Nikalus."

"Drive." But before Elijah could start the engine, someone opened the back door and got inside, slamming the door shut.

"I hope you boys brought food. I'd hate to think that there's no breakfast for me to eat. God, why did we have to leave so early?"

Nothing could shake the core of Klaus and Elijah than the lovely sound of Caroline Forbes in their backseat, asking for breakfast and demanding to know why they had to leave early. They as in with her. Klaus whipped his head around, his mouth hanging open and his eyes widening in shock. Her face was bared of makeup, but she still looked damn beautiful.

"Don't look so surprised," she said, rolling her eyes. "It took me a whole lot while before I could admit that I actually feel something for you, and you're welcome by the way, for accepting your offer." Then she graced him with a radiant smile." And you were right, this small town is not for me. I deserve an adventure of my own. Now can you please drive, Elijah? Time isn't going to wait for us. And I have to take a nap."

And then she made herself comfortable in the backseat, laying there as she closed her eyes and released a sigh of... relief? Happiness? She looked happy. She looked like she was finally home.

Home.

"Caroline..."

"Il tuo. il mio. noi. per sempre."

Yours

Mine

Us

Forever

The End.