#billion lights

Here’s a scene that I wrote between Klaus and Caroline that never actually made it into the story... This was meant to take place at some point in the story where they were an established couple. 

He’s bent over a notepad with his guitar in his lap when she walks in with a mug of tea in either hand. So intent is he on his work that he doesn’t look up when she sets the tea next to him, murmuring a quick thanks as he scratches out another line of writing.

She’s not sure when things changed that allowed him to write so easily now, because he was the same as her, this massive block that was preventing him from writing the words he so desperately wanted to convey.

Now it’s all that ever seems to do. She settles into the worn couch against the wall and watches him with a fond smile on her face.

He’s in the zone, his whole body hunched over the page, his tongue darting out to wet his lips every so often as he hums a melody under his breath.

As if finally realising that she’s there he looks up and blinks at her in surprise as she giggles.

“I didn’t want to distract you, you looked like you were really into whatever you were writing.” She said softly, gesturing to the notepad that was still sitting open before him.

He puts down the pen and sets his guitar aside as he beckons for her to join him. Caroline does so, clutching her mug of tea carefully with both hands as he settles her into his lap. He tucks his chin over her shoulder as he winds his arms around her waist and just breathes.

It’s the moments like this that are her favourites. Their relationship is so flashy and so public, and sometimes Caroline thinks that every time someone takes a picture of them a piece of Klaus’ soul is gone. She’s so used to sharing him with the rest of the world, to answering countless question after question about their relationship and time together that she cherishes every time she sees him like this, messy haired and bare footed and stripped back.

The world is missing out, because the real Niklaus Mikaelson is a wonderful person, and he’s all hers.

Sipping at her tea with one hand, she places a gentle hand on his and moves it aside so she can see the writing. He drops a kiss to her shoulder and buries his face into her back. And it amazes her sometimes that he’s so bashful whenever she’s reading his work, because it’s always so good, and this is no exception.

The song is a refreshing change from all of the heartbreaking acoustics because she suspects that this one is meant to be a little louder than all the others. Her gaze zeroes in on a few lines in particular because as she reads over them again and again it’s amazing how much it resonates.

It’s missing a line, she’s been around him long enough to kind of have the basics of song writing down. So her fingers trace over the pen of the words instead as he watches her.

“I can’t get that last line. It’ll come to me later hopefully.”

“Is it for the new album?”