Cinderella and Prince Charming

The lights in the ballroom shimmered and sparkled, casting blue and silver flecks all over the walls. Icy blue and white balloons littered the floor along with silvery tinsel, high heels popping their latex exterior. The moon's sweet silver light cascaded in through the windows and shined on the faces of the dancers, be it the dirty ones in the center or the sweet couples, lovers' blushes on their faces, on the outskirts.

If you were to look among the faces in the crowd, you'd see those dirty dancers: the ones who made eye contact with the boys they'd bed that night. They all looked the same: low cut tops, short skirts, skyscraper heels. There's also those sweet lovers, the ones who steal kisses and smiles in the dark recesses of the room, the ones who always dress more modestly, as if to announce 'I'm taken, turn your eyes to someone else.' There are the quiet types, who stand on the outskirt awkwardly, only there because their friend dragged them along. Finally, we come to the fillers; the ones who dance along to the music with no true purpose, they just want to forget.

The people I will tell you about are none of those people.

Shining silver heels clacked against the polished hardwood floors. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she would find it. She plugged in lights, cleaned messes, and called security as she tried to keep the peace at the party. She called the bouncer when the drunken, high students tried to spike the punch (for the fifteenth time that December evening) and wiped it up when those students vomited on their way out. She kicked out the smokers and was the peacemaker in all the drama. The party wouldn't be half as perfect without her. She ran to and fro, distressed always, but no one seemed to notice. She could hardly steal a moment on the dance floor without a problem arising, and there she was, off again, trying to contain the chaos of the room.

She was the star of the evening, and he knew it. He watched with a careful eye as she moved round the dance floor, looking like a swan in her sparkling white dress. Her hair was up, every hair in place, and he drank in her appearance like a fine wine. He turned to fill his glass with more punch, but when he turned back, she had disappeared. Alarm painted his handsome face and he sought after her, handmade black Italian loafers noiseless as he walked. He didn't need to turn around every girl to find her; unlike the woman in question, he knew what he was after. Although his brother (pushy as ever) tried to distract him, to stop him, he could not let her out of his sight. For the brother could never understand true love; infatuation, yes, but love was an entirely different concept.

She continued going to and fro, cleaning up messes be it literally or figuratively, all the while her heart growing emptier and her brain growing angrier. She had two beautiful men after her heart, yet where were they now? She sighed, frustrated. If either of them had truly wanted her, they would save her from the chaos of the evening. She just wanted to dance, to lay her head on a shoulder and feel arms slip round her waist. Yet that wasn't in the cards for her; her responsibility that evening was to watch others, her friends, enjoy that pleasure, and to break up the couples that were taking it too far. She sighed as yet another boy took it too far, and she rushed to break them up.

What she didn't know is that he was right there alongside her. He was always there, always helping, whether she knew it or not, whether she wanted it or not. In her distracted manner, she never looked at the "bouncer" who threw out the drunks, the "custodian" who showed her around, or the "chaperone" across the room who was also breaking up overexcited dancers. That troubled him deeply; he doubted she even realized his rival hadn't arrived that evening. He felt a twinge of neglect, but that was quickly masked by his excitement, all the better to surprise her.

She continued through the crowd, an elegant swan swimming through an ocean of bodies. She never noticed the man who approached the emcee and requested a song. She never noticed the little flecks of white paper that had begun to fall, emulating snow. She never noticed how at that moment there was utter perfection and tranquility. She never noticed that someone did all that for her.

Actually, scratch that- she did.

She felt a strong arm wrap around her waist and squeeze. "You came." She breathed, unsure of whether to be frightened or delighted by his presence.

"It is my home, love." He replied, his breath washing over her face as he held her from behind. "I've nowhere else to go."

"Tyler didn't come." The blonde whispered.

"No." Klaus replied as he kissed her head. "No, he didn't." Klaus held her hand and turned her around, then guided her arms around his neck. He put his on her waist. "One dance, love. Please."

Caroline held back tears as she came in closer. "I really shouldn't-"

Klaus just smiled as she rested her head on his shoulder. He felt her body trembling, and he knew that she was crying. He rubbed her back. "What's wrong, love?" He whispered as the 'snow' fell onto his lashes.

Caroline smiled sadly. "I imagined that you would be Tyler tonight." She laughed nervously as she pulled away from him. "Oh well." She smiled like she always did, putting on her cheerleader brave face as she put some distance between them. "I guess he's made his choice."

Klaus stared into her face and he was dazzled. Her radiance was enveloping him, and he gazed into her blue eyes that popped against her swan-like dress. Under his strong gaze, her face crumpled and she cried, vulnerable, weak, and putty in Klaus's arms. "I suppose he has." Klaus's voice was careful. He kissed a tear that streamed down Caroline's cheek, and relished in the sound of her quickened heartbeat and hitched breath.

"And I've made mine."

A/N: Ohhhhh, so THIS is what pops out of my brain at 1 am. Good to know.