She told him that she loved him first. She hadn't planned it. She hadn't even thought much about the words or the delivery of them or the Monumental Moment that was supposed to be saying three syllables. Caroline knew how she felt. She knew the rush of warmth in the morning when she woke up burrowed into his side and the way her heart jumped when he smiled at her in that peculiar way reserved especially for her, half of his mouth quirked up like he was plotting something exceptionally delicious and wouldn't share. She knew that she loved him. She knew it in the way that you just now things, deep within your chest with no questions or reassessments. After every previous moment of insecurity between them, now she was sure.

Caroline Forbes was in love with him. The Big Bad Original Hybrid, the most powerful creature in the universe, this supposed big bundle of evil, and she was in love with him.

Whether he felt it back, she wasn't as positive. Sometimes, when he would surprise her in the morning with doughnuts because he knew that she liked the sugar rush or when he allowed her to drag him from tourist attraction to tourist attraction with minimal complaints, she would look up at him and think, "This man is in love with me." And it would make her chest hurt just thinking about it, because she was overwhelmed with how completely whole even the idea of his love made her feel.

But then other times, she thought that maybe he wasn't able to love anymore. Not because of her, but because of time or his family and his path and the many scars hidden underneath his always healing skin. He had been rejected, neglected, torn into bits and sometimes she thought that there was no way to get over a thousand years of hurt. It was in his eyes sometimes, the nostalgia and the unbearable grief when he would mention his life eons ago. It hurt Caroline's head to think about, because now that she knew him, that she loved him, she knew that he needed to be able to love someone without doubt or obligation. He needed that reassurance. She wanted to be able to give it to him, but she was tired of always trying to solve people in her relationships.

So she didn't tell him. He probably knew, she guessed, as she wasn't exactly subtle in her affections anymore, but she just hadn't told him.

They were in Italy. They always seemed to come back to Italy. At the end of every jaunt, they would return to the Italian countryside, to a fresh villa and sunshine and peace. They'd gone to France for Caroline's birthday and, in route of their usual tradition, stopped in Italy before going back home, to the townhouse in London that Caroline loved and Klaus hated because it was cramped.

Klaus had been distant, but more than in the way Caroline was used to. He was always slightly mysterious, with more secrets and stories to tell than there was time, it seemed, but something seemed off. Perhaps it was paranoia, she had thought, or perhaps he was tired. Perhaps the villa in Italy could change things, as they usually spent their time wrapped around each other.

But then they'd arrived and the first thing Klaus did was go to his study, shutting the door softly behind him after giving her a chaste kiss on the side of the mouth.

He needs his alone time, she'd thought. I can respect that.

So she distracted herself. She took a walk in the gardens, staring at the different plants and soaking up the sunshine. She made cookies and cleaned the kitchen and video chatted with Stefan. She wasted an entire evening and afternoon waiting for Klaus to come around, slink out of his study and pay attention to her. She felt like a neglected pet and hated that she felt that way.

Finally, she decided to be clever about the situation and use some of her womanly charms to lure him out. She shrugged off her clothing and slipped on one of the silky robes hanging on the bathroom door. She knocked on his study door twice before letting herself in, lounging in the doorway.

Klaus looked up, glass of scotch in his hand. The bottle was open on his desk. There was a stack of yellowed paper next to the bottle and he was examining a piece of parchment when she entered.

"I'm going to take a bath," Caroline announced, looking down at him through her lashes. Her robe was tied loosely around her waist, falling slightly open around the tops of her thighs, but his eyes didn't stray from her face.

"All right, love," he murmured, before dropping his gaze back down to the paper in his lap.

Caroline only blinked at him. She was trying, she really was. She was trying to push down her insecurities and paranoia and mountains of feelings, because just because he didn't want to bathe with her, that wasn't that big of a deal. He wasn't tiring of her. He wasn't bored or dissatisfied with their relationship. He just didn't want to join her at that moment in time. No big deal. No need to freak out, Caroline.

She was trying to tell herself all of this, repeating the mantra many times over in her head, but it wasn't enough. She'd been denying her feelings too long, ever since her birthday in Paris when he'd kissed her from their balcony, staring straight at the Eiffel Tower, and she'd thanked him for giving her the world and he merely nodded and then looked away.

"What the hell is going on?" She exploded, marching towards him until she was standing in front of his desk, her hands placed on her hips as her eyes narrowed into slits. "In the last seventeen years of our relationship, you have only rejected sex once, and that was because Elijah needed your help. Did I do something? What the hell is going on?"

Klaus seemed momentarily surprised by her outburst, his face showing shock for only a second, before he composed it into a smooth mask and let out a sigh. He looked tired, almost bone weary, and he'd lost the usual spark that danced in his eyes.

"Caroline," he said slowly, drawing her name out softly, like a plea. He raised the scotch glass to his lips, gulping down the last of the liquid and closed his eyes. When he looked up at her again, he looked sad.

The fight dropped out of her instantly. She could recognize his pain easily, though she hadn't seen it much in their time together. His eyes reminded her of Lonely Hybrid Klaus, the way he looked for days after the termination of his hybrids.

"Klaus," she murmured, pushing off from the doorway and propelling herself towards him. She folded into his lap neatly, legs tucked underneath her as she turned to face him. She lifted a hand to his face, stroking his cheek lightly. He leaned into her touch before sighing.

"Klaus," she repeated again. "What is it?"

Klaus just continued to stare at her, his eyes raking over her face, absorbing inch by inch and it was slowly making her uncomfortable. He was searching for something and Caroline wasn't sure what it was or if she could even give it to him.

"Are you happy?" He finally asked.

Caroline stopped the hand that was stroking his face, surprised.

"Am I happy?" She repeated in disbelief.

Klaus rolled his eyes. "You have vampire hearing, Caroline. That is what I asked."

"Why would you ask something like that?" Caroline was confused.

"Please just answer the question." Klaus insisted, and his hand moved up to wrap around her waist tentatively.

Caroline looked up at him, took in his sad eyes and slightly nervous disposition and tentative movements and she didn't like any of it. Klaus was not a nervous person. He was not a tentative person. He was Klaus. Overly confident, swagger in his walk, occasionally psychotic but only in the best of ways, Klaus.

"Yes, I'm happy." She replied. "Or rather, of course I'm happy. Content. Ecstatic. Jubilant. Overjoyed. I mean, I was a little happier when you weren't being all mopey teenager girl on me, but I'm still pretty up there. Now what is this about?"

"Are you sure?" He asked again.

"Yes, I'm sure. Been one with my emotions since 1992. I know what happiness feels like. Seriously, what's going on?"

Klaus ignored her. "You would tell me if you were unhappy, correct?"

"I'm not unhappy—,"

"If something was wrong or you were unhappy, you need only tell me, Caroline."

"Oh my God, Klaus! Why are you so convinced that I'm unhappy? I just told you that I'm not! I'm happy! Or at least I would be if you would stop acting so weird!"

"I heard your conversation with your mother on your birthday, Caroline. You did not sound happy or content or overjoyed or any of the other adjectives you previously used to describe your emotional state. You sounded sad, upset even. I do not wish to be the cause of your unhappiness, sweetheart."

"Klaus." Caroline said his name definitively. "Are you fucking kidding me?" She finally snapped at him. "All of the moping and the silence was because of how I sounded on the phone with my mother?"

Klaus only blinked, his eyes still searching hers.

Caroline untangled herself from him, not caring that the robe around her waist was haphazardly hanging on. She stood in front of him, tense with frustration and disbelief.

"I miss my mother." She said. "I've missed my mother since we left, but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be here. Yes, I miss her, and yes, I would love to see her more often, but that's it. I've never regretted any of this, Klaus, and I'm happy. I'm really, truly happy with you."

She looked down at him, trying so hard to make him hear the sincerity in her voice or see the honesty on her face. He continued to look skeptical.

"Klaus," she pleaded with him, her voice low. She leaned down, placing her hands on his shoulders and keeping her face only inches from his.

"I love you," she murmured, syllables low. She didn't think about it, didn't use it as a bargaining technique, but it was the most honest thing that she could think to say to him, to show him how she felt. "I am in love with you and I am happy about it."

His surprise was quick, flashing between his features as he struggled to remain calm, but Caroline saw it. She could see the fighting emotions in his eyes, flickering between uncertainty, surprise, and something that she might have been able to mistake as adoration.

Caroline wondered if anyone had ever told him that they loved him before, save for maybe Rebekah. He needed to hear it.

Caroline pressed her lips against his gently, a quaint touching of skin. She let her eyes flicker closed, pressing into him like she had so many times before. His hand reached out for her hip, dragging her closer to him, and she folded into his arms. He kissed her softly, delicately, gentle sips from her mouth and strokes on her face.

"I believe you," he breathed against her lips. He opened his mouth to say something else, but Caroline refused, kissing him again. He kissed her in a way that said thank you, that was open and honest and painful.

He didn't tell her that he loved her, not then. He just continued to kiss her, wrapping around her and absorbing her, pulling her into him.

He didn't tell her that he loved her then, not in so many words, but she still believed him.