Just experimenting with some structures – this oneshot is just to cure my writers block so I can continue with my other fic. Enjoy!

His palms itch as he enters the bar, like he subconsciously knows something is different, something is off, but he can't put his finger on what it is. The prickling on the back of his neck is telling him he should turn around, scan every inch of the crowded room before sitting down, but even as he does, he can't work out what he's looking for.

He sits at the bar and the bartender slides him his usual, two fingers of amber coloured poison to try and burn away his memories.

Before he can even take a sip, he smells jasmine and sunshine and knows even before he turns around, who is standing behind him.

"Hey." She smiles nervously, as though she's afraid he's going to ignore her or snap at her or just plain rip her head of without blinking.

His skin is too tight for his bones and his muscles too tense to even consider doing any of those things so for a few moments, miniscule in reality, he simply stares at her.

She's dressed simply in a green sundress that brings out the gold in her eyes and a short sleeved black jacket that emphasises how light her curls are. She's like the sun suddenly stepping back into his life, a kind of light no daylight ring could ever repel.

"Hello Love." He manages to slide the smirk back onto his face before she grows uncomfortable under his raking gaze. "Where've you been?"

She smiles wider, white teeth standing out in the darkened atmosphere. He never noticed how dark his life had become nowadays until she bought some light back in.

"You know my offer for you join me still stood after I left Mystic Falls." He isn't really reminding her of their previous aminosity, he's trying to coax her to tell him why she's here, begging her to stay with him.

"I know." Her smiles fades a bit as though she knows what she says next may hurt him. "But, I realised that, I didn't want someone to show me the world, I wanted to discover it for myself." She glances back up at him. "Surely you of all people can understand that?"

Of course I can. He acknowledges silently. It's what I've always loved about you, independence, fire, courage.

Instead, he toasts her with his drink, flashing her a smile that puts her at ease.

"Oh, I have to run, I'm viewing a house in a bit." She's rummaging through her purse as she speaks, looking for something frantically.

Right, he thinks bitterly. You're a day-drinker now Niklaus, normal people have actual things to do in the afternoon, things that don't include indulging semi-alcoholic tendencies.

She digs a biro out of her bag finally and he raises an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Here." She takes his hand, palm up and begins writing something. When her fingers release his skin, he wishes she'd held on a little bit longer. He glances down, it's a cell phone number.

"Call me okay? We'll do dinner."

She's biting her lip, the insecure, neurotic cheerleader simmering close to the surface.

He know he could have taken out his phone and put the number directly in. She knows she could have taken hers out and asked for his. They both know that they just wanted to touch each other, make sure that after everything, they really had met on some far corner of the earth, quite by accident.

He tugs at her arm and presses his lips to her cheek.

"Until next time sweetheart."

Their skin aches as she leaves, already missing each other in the stifling Parisian air.

Her phone rings later on that evening, back in her hotel room, re-reading the brochures given to her by the realtor. When an unknown number pops up on the display, she pretends she doesn't see her hands shake with excitement as her fingertips glide across the screen to answer.

Their skin prickles with anticipation as they get ready in the Parisian hotels.

He presses her to the wall in the alley next to the restaurant and kisses her hungrily, like he can't wait any longer. She moans against his mouth, opening to let his tongue in to duel with her own.

He kisses down her throat, pulling back briefly to wind his fingers around the chain wrapped across her neck and tugs, sending the ruined metal flying behind him. His lips continue unhindered across the skin under her jaw as she gasps in surprise.

"I liked that necklace." She told him.

He simply pulls back to smirk at her with a look in his eyes so wanton, she can tell that her jewellery isn't the only thing that will be ripped from her body tonight.

"No you didn't." He returns smugly. His hands slide down her torso, over her breasts and pause slightly at her hips. She inhales shallowly as he leans forwards to kiss her again, distracting her from the fingertips that were ghosting down her thighs to the hem of her dress.

His hands slide to the back of her thighs and lift her up, running his finger tips across the bottom of her ass. The bands of her thong are stretched tight across her hip bones, and she feels like she could crawl out of her own skin with the desire to press as close to him as possible.

Ripping her mouth away from his, she gasps into the night air, closing her eyes at the feeling of his mouth attacking her neck again. His hands haven't moved from holding her against the wall, save to adjust the position of her hips to better press his pelvis into hers.

Caroline's hand fists itself into his hair and yanks his head back to look into his dark eyes. "Please." She breathes against his lips shakily, every nerve in her body begging for release as quickly as possible.

Klause smirks wickedly and drop one of her legs to rest back on the floor, his hand gliding up her thigh to catch her underwear, effortlessly snapping the elastic to pull it away from her body.

She's managed to undo his belt and unzip his fly at the same time, freeing his erection and muttering threateningly about enough foreplay when he goes to slide his hand closer to the apex of her thighs.

He grins at her impatience, the twist of his lips uncurling into a blissful expression of pleasure when he slides into her warm body. He groans when her her mouth latches onto his neck to muffle her moans, picking up her other leg again to change the angle and make hiding her noises impossible.

He begins to move with a desperation that only two people who are truly aching for each other can understand.

Their skin burns as they make love under the dark blanket of the Parisian sky.

They wake up twisted together in the smooth sheets of his hotel room, their skin starving for each other all over again, the room blindingly bright from the sun outside.

He blinks, wishing he'd closed the curtains last night, still groggy from a thick, sex induced sleep.

She smiles at him widely, running her fingers down her own body to curl them in his where they rest on her thigh.

Their skin sings as they make love in the Parisian sun.

Thank you for reading.

Nixon.