Author's Note: I swear to God I just wanted to write a drabble. It sort of...ran away from me. I think it's a subconscious reaction to TVD and TO starting soon, I felt the urge to just write fluff. So here's about 6,500 words of mindless fluff, enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Julie Plec and Warner Brothers.

In every house, there's an art studio. They're not all the same of course – what kind of artist would Klaus be if he let himself sink into monotony? In his London apartment, he paints in front of floor to ceiling windows, overlooking grey skies and winding, rain-slicked streets. In his Paris garret (a home kept mostly out of nostalgia), he occupies no more than a small corner, wet canvases reflecting the snatched conversations from lovers across the city. In Tuscany, he sets up his atelier in a sun-soaked parlour, letting the bright rays improve his mood, and subsequently, his art.

One thousand years of blood and sweat, the rooms in which he created his masterpieces were the few places his mind cleared; thus, he kept them varied and he kept them beautiful. All suited his mercurial mood swings. He always preferred to be surrounded by luxury, but those rooms, his sanctums, they were sacred, and they were given special attention. Rarely did Klaus even allow the rest of his family (well, when they were with him) to wander into these rooms, and never in those thousand years that he spent locking himself away with nothing more than paint and canvas and raw emotion that needed an outlet did he think anybody would be willingly welcomed into his sanctuaries.

Of course, he hadn't forseen her.

"I sincerely hope you have a good reason for disturbing me Rebekah." Klaus didn't bother to turn and face his sister, knowing that whatever inane chatter she was there to bother him with, she would likely just go ahead. She remained silent, and though Klaus could feel her presence, he still didn't turn around.

"Spit it out, little sister," he said with a smirk, adding some colour to the large canvas in front of him. Still, there wasn't a sound. With a sigh, he set down his paintbrush and wiped his hands on an old rag. Stepping back, he observed his painting for a moment. "What do you think, Bekah? Another masterpiece?"

There was a scoff, and then, "You seriously need to get over yourself."

Now that definitely wasn't his sister.

Klaus spun on his heel, not daring to believe his own ears. Standing in his art studio in New Orleans was the girl he hadn't expected for at least nine more years, though he certainly wasn't about to start complaining. She looked just as radiant as he remembered, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, a little longer, a little brighter. She faced him bravely with a small smile and said nothing, waiting for him to get over his shock.

"Caroline…love, what are you doing here?" He almost wants to cringe because the hope in his voice makes him sound like a love-struck teenage boy-

(But really, who is he trying to fool?)

-and he finds himself frozen to the spot, torn between paranoia that he's finally lost his mind and hallucinating, or pure joy because maybe, just maybe, she's here to see him.

Sensing that he wasn't about to be able to say much else very soon, Caroline took a step forward hesitantly. She had to admit to herself that seeing him again was like a breath of fresh air. Despite the fact that he had been the outsider when they were in her little hometown, here and now, his face is familiar and welcome.

(Considering everything that was once familiar is slowly being ruined, she's even happier to see him than she thought she'd be.)

"Hi Klaus," she said, grinning. She felt lighter somehow, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "It's good to see you again."

"Likewise," he replied, finding his voice, and with it, his confidence. A charming smirk spread on his face, and Caroline gulped, suddenly very aware of how alone they both were.

"So…this is a nice place you've got. I'm guessing this room is your art studio?" she asked, a little nervously. Stepping away from him, she walked over to the wall where some paintings were propped up against the wall, drying. Slowly, she took in each one, noting the different landscapes, the places she had never been, the emotions she had never felt.

"What do you think, love?" he asked, and she nearly jumped because his voice was so close to her ear. She hadn't even noticed him come to stand so close to her. A little flustered, she quickly regained her composure and put some distance between them.

"Well, I still think they're lonely," she said haughtily, and smirked inwardly at the small frown he gave. "But…they're also still beautiful," she continued, and he smiled widely.

"Glad you think so, sweetheart. You were always my favourite critic." He started to stalk towards her again, slowly, purposefully, and Caroline felt the press of the room again, but she was determined not to show him any fear. Granted she wasn't sure she was as brave as she had been when she walked in to the house, but she had been brave enough to pack a bag and get out of Mystic Falls, why couldn't she be face him now? So she stood still, chin up.

"Now, as glad as I am to see you here, you still haven't mentioned why you've turned up in my art studio. How have you been for the past year?"

Caroline sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Not so great," she admitted, pursing her lips. "This past year…everything's been a mess."

Klaus frowned, restraining himself from going closer, wanting her to be comfortable enough to divulge the whole story. "I know things were tense with Silas, but you lot defeated him, didn't you? Shouldn't that have calmed things down a little?"

She scoffed, giving a short bitter laugh. "Yeah, you'd think so, right? You'd think, that after that we could have been happy, but nooo, Elena was still crying over the Salvatore brothers, Stefan finally just left, then Damon just took Elena away to New York or something, and Matt got the money to go out to California thanks to your sister, and I have no idea where Tyler went after we broke up-"

"You and Tyler broke up?" asked Klaus, instantly perking up through her rant.

She gave him an exasperated look. "Really? That's what you take away from that?"

"Do you blame me?" he asked, smirking again. She just rolled her eyes, but Klaus didn't miss the small smile she wore.

"Yes, okay, Tyler and I broke up. Turns out, some things aren't actually meant to last forever," she said, a little sadly. Klaus stiffened, not wanting to have to see her grieve over her relationship with the mutt when he thought she was here for him, but wisely, he kept his tongue.

Caroline shook her head, trying to get rid of her thoughts. What she didn't tell Klaus was that her breakup with Tyler had been messy, the stress of Silas and the distance that had been between them caused more than one shouting match and more than a few tears.

(Not to mention several arguments where the hybrid in front her had figured in heavily…)

"So the you and the mutt – you and Tyler," he corrected at her glare, "went your separate ways. But what about all your other friends? Why didn't you leave with them?" he asked, concerned.

Caroline scoffed again, but this time she looked weary. Making her way over to a small couch set against a wall, she flopped down, bracing her elbow on her knee, and her chin in her hand. She stared at the paintings in the room, taking in their beauty, avoiding the gaze of the one who had created them.

"Who could I go with?" she asked, a little bitterly. "After everything that happened with Silas impersonating him, I don't blame Stefan for running. He calls occasionally, let's me know he's okay, but he wants to be alone, and I get that. And then Damon and Elena are in this constant honeymoon phase and Damon is just…ugh – I couldn't be around them constantly. And you know what happened with Bonnie-"she broke off, ducking her head at the memory of her dead best friend.

Taking a deep breath, she continued. "Look, I couldn't stay in Mystic Falls, everyone was leaving. I love my mom, but she needed some peace, and I was the last vampire left, people were starting to notice something was off; I had to get out before they put two and two together. So I was alone, and I wasn't really sure where I wanted to go, I just got in my car and before I knew it, I ended up…here."

Now she did look up at him, biting her lip shyly. Honestly, this was a whim of hers and if it didn't work out, she was screwed. She knew it was presumptuous to just assume that he would be waiting patiently for her (old promises be damned), to just show up on his doorstep with no warning (but wasn't that exactly what he predicted would happen?), but when she entered the house, when she stood around his art, stood around him – it felt right. It was right.

She just hoped he felt the same way.

Klaus held his breath throughout her little speech, his mouth going dry. It was selfish, he knew, to be so focused on his own gratification, she had clearly been through a trying year and the abandonment of her friends was weighing heavily on her mind. He should respect that. He should try and comfort her.

(But since when has he ever known the first thing about being comforting?)

The opportunity was staring him right in the face, and if the slightly hopeful look on Caroline's features was anything to go by then his growing joy was hardly unwarranted. Almost carefully, he made his way over to Caroline and sat beside her on the small couch, leaning forward so that their legs brushed. Gently, he reached up a hand to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, and she shifted so that she was leaning ever so slightly into him. Emboldened by her response, he gently brushed his knuckles across her cheek.

"So to summarize," he said, he voice low and husky, "you're newly single, out of that one-pony town, and decided to show up on my doorstep. Any plans, now that you're here?"

Caroline gulped, the dark intensity in Klaus' eyes scaring and thrilling her simultaneously. But she was Miss Mystic Falls and she was no coward. She reached her hand out and intertwined it with one of his, squeezing it lightly.

"Well, New Orleans is beautiful," she said, matter-of-factly, "but there's a lot to see so I was looking for a good tour guide – happen to know any?"

Klaus smirked, leaning closer so that his voice washed over her ear. "I'll be more than happy to take you around my kingdom. But I'll require payment upfront."

"Oh really?" she replied, trying hard not to laugh. "Well, I think we can work something out."

Before he could reply she closed the small gap and pressed her lips to his, disentangling her hand from his and winding her arms around his neck. He was still with shock for a second before he wrapped his own hands around her waist and responded with every second of pent up desire that had accumulated for the past year, pressing her against the soft cushions, his lips moving frantically against hers, drawing out a whimper from the breathless blonde. He left her mouth and pressed hot kisses along her jawline, moving to whisper in her ear.

"I'll consider us even, sweetheart. But I hope you plan on sticking around, because there's a whole world I want to show you."

The light streaming in through the penthouse's floor to ceiling windows was dimmed, the thick sheet of clouds obscuring any and all sunshine. Rain pattered against the glass, a comforting staccato that was the only sound throughout the lavish apartment. In the silence of the art studio sat two lovers, enjoying the quiet respite from the rainy day outside, though the boredom was starting to set in on at least one of them.

"How are you not bored right now?" asked Caroline, throwing down the magazine she was reading and reclining against the leather sofa. In an armchair across from her sat her boyfriend of four months who was steadfastly ignoring her, concentrating on the sketchbook in his lap. She rolled her eyes, knowing that he could hear her perfectly well.

"Seriously, let's watch a movie! Or play a board game or something because I am so bored!" Still, he said nothing, but the smirk on his face indicated he was riling her up on purpose, and it was working.

(It didn't help that as much as she wanted to be truly annoyed, that smirk showed off his dimples and the jerk knew that she loved those dimples.)

"Please…Nik?" His hand faltered for just a second, and she grinned at the small victory, knowing full well how much he loved to hear her use that nickname. Deciding to take a stronger approach, she gracefully got up and walked towards him, trailing her fingers up his arm as she moved to stand behind the armchair, loosely wrapping her arms around his torso from behind.

"You know," she said huskily, her mouth near his ear, "I've never spent a rainy day in bed before and this is the perfect opportunity – we could continue what we started this morning…" She let her sentence trail off suggestively, trusting that the hitch in his breathing meant he was replaying exactly what they had been doing in bed a few hours ago, but much to her chagrin, he simply moved his hand faster across the paper, the speed of it obscuring whatever he was working so hard on.

Undaunted, Caroline moved her lips against the shell of his ear, nibbling lightly while her hands massaged his shoulders, and though he gave out a low hum of contentment , he remained stubbornly fixated on that damn sketchbook. Hating to be ignored, Caroline retracted, throwing up a loud "Ugh!" of frustration and flopped back down on the couch, crossing her arms petulantly and glaring at him.

"Aaand – done!" Klaus finally looked up from his sketchbook and grinned at her. Caroline just huffed and stared up determinedly at the ceiling. Rolling his eyes, he flashed over to the sofa and before she knew what was happening, he was reclined against the cushions, Caroline snugly wrapped up in his arms. She put up a half-hearted effort to get up, but he was having none of it and she quickly gave up, though she was still tense.

"I'm sorry love," he said with a small chuckle, pressing an affectionate kiss to her hair. "Sometimes an artist needs to capture as much inspiration as he can, for he never knows when he might lose it."

She just scoffed. "Well sometimes, an artist needs to realize when his girlfriend is throwing herself at him for he never knows when he might be kicked to the couch!"

He hardly took her words seriously, though he did frown slightly. "It's a bit adolescent, isn't it, the labels 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend'?"

"Well, what do you propose?" she asked, craning her neck to look at him, her eyebrow arched.

"How about I call you my lover?" he asked, the word rolling off his tongue. Gently, he caressed the skin exposed at her stomach, the hem of one of his Henley shirts had rolled up, and the tiniest pair of cotton shorts left her long legs bare. Granted, he had been intent on his earlier task, but now he drank in the sight of her greedily. How many times had he envisioned a day like this, no worries, no distractions, just him and her lounging in his art studio, basking in each other's company?

Caroline gave an involuntary shiver at the intimate word and she squirmed slightly, before giving up her irritation and burrowing into his arms. "You are definitely not calling me your 'lover' in public. But if you're suddenly so interested in me, could you at least tell me what was so important you would ignore me?"

"Love, I would never really ignore you," said Klaus, his calloused fingers now tracing idle patterns on her hip. "But if you really want to know…" He bent down to pick up the sketchbook and flipped it open to his most recent drawing, handing it over to her. Caroline took it eagerly, giving a small gasp at the sight of an incredibly detailed sketch of her.

"Oh…this is…wow."

Klaus chuckled, running his lips over her hair. "Glad you approve sweetheart – and there's really no need to blush."

"I'm not blushing!" Caroline sputtered, trying futilely to get her face back to normal colour, but it was no use. Not when he had drawn her like that, fast asleep in bed, clearly after an intense night of sex. A sheet covered her midsection (barely) and her chest was left exposed, moonlight illuminating every curve and dip in her skin. Her face was content, a small smile played on her lips, her mouth slightly parted, and hair splayed out on the pillow.

"When, uh…when did you decide to do this?"

"Sketch you?" he asked, lazily drawing his fingers up and down her arm. "I wanted to sketch you the moment I fed you my blood, that night on your birthday. But this particular drawing is one I've had in mind since you fell asleep last night."

"It's nice – I look…"

"Content? Utterly sated? Well-fucked?" he asked, smirking as he ran his hand under the waistband of her shorts.

"Don't be crass!" she said, slapping his arm playfully. "I look happy. I look like I'm in love." The words were out of her mouth before she had a chance to realize what she was saying and she just managed to contain her own shock. They were both very still, her words hung in the air between them. They'd been together for four months now officially, but there was more history behind that, and while their time together had been the best of her life, he had thousands of years on her – what if he didn't feel their relationship was that serious yet? What if he wasn't ready for it to be serious? What if this was another typical Caroline Forbes move, throwing herself at a guy only to find out that he-

"I love you too, sweetheart."

'Oh. Well then.'

She pulled away, only to turn around so that she could kiss him thoroughly, her hands framing his face, pressing herself into him almost desperately. His hands flew to her waist and gripped it tightly, his fingers digging into her skin, matching her frantic tone.

"I love you," she said breathlessly, pulling away for a second. "I love you," (kiss), "I love you," (kiss), "I love-"

She couldn't continue that as he sat up suddenly, keeping his arms around her and keeping her firmly in his lap. He pulled his lips away from hers and trailed kisses down her neck, paying special attention to the hollow of her throat, moving along her collarbone and pushing the edge of her shirt over her shoulder, his lips following the trail of exposed skin.

"Shall we take this to the bedroom, love?" he asked, looking up at her, his voice husky and eyes dark with need.

Caroline bit her lip, looking around the art studio. The leather couch was certainly large and comfortable enough, and the rain pattering on the large windows was a beautiful soundtrack. "No need to go anywhere," she said coyly. "Here's perfect."

For a city that never slept, New York was still pretty quiet at three in the morning. Caroline huffed as she meandered through the streets, unsure where she wanted to go, or what the point of this little walk of hers was.

'Walks are supposed to help people calm down.'

She sighed, stopping abruptly and stamping her feet in the snow. It was a frigid December night, almost Christmas – how long had she wished for a Christmas in New York? The tree at Rockerfeller Center, ice-skating in Central Park, the entire city lit up for the season – it was everything she had dreamed of and more. The cherry on top was to have someone by her side, to experience the city with her, and to be fair, that's exactly what she had up until a few hours ago.

Groaning slightly, she rubbed her temples in frustration, trying to come to terms with the memory of the fight she and Klaus had had that afternoon. It was ridiculous. Completely asinine. For ten years now, she and Klaus had been together, either ruling New Orleans or traveling the world, and for most of that time, she was blissfully in love. Every now and then though, they would fight; awful, earth-shattering, plate-throwing blowouts. They were both stubborn people, neither wanting to yield – but their pride led to their own misery. They always made up, but every time, Caroline was plagued by that old human fear that he would leave and never come back.

(Except this time, of course, she had been the one to storm out. And despite how angry she'd been, there was no mistaking the split second of hurt and anguish that she caught in his eyes as he watched her walk out the door.)

Shutting her eyes, she knew her decision had been made. As she burrowed her hands further into her coat, she doubled back on her route, and made her way back to Klaus' stately turn-of-the-century townhome on the Upper East Side. It was a beautiful home, not one he frequented but definitely one of her favourites, and he had redecorated it to suit her tastes and given it to her for their fifth anniversary. Now though, she found herself standing outside the ornate front door, scared to go inside but working up her courage.

She was being ridiculous. He was going to figure out she was standing outside and then Caroline would just look pathetic. After all, what did she have to be scared of? Taking a deep breath, she opened up the door and stepped inside, unnerved by the silence. There was no light from anywhere on the first floor, and as she stood by the staircase and craned her neck up; she could make out no sign of life from any of the higher floors either. She panicked for a moment, wondering if he really had left, but she didn't think he would leave without saying goodbye.

At least, she didn't want to believe that.

Before she went into full-fledged panic mode, she realized there was one place he could be. Steeling her nerves, Caroline made her way up the spiral staircase, past four floors until she came to a stop in front of a simple white door, leading into the attic. She almost gave a comically large sigh of relief at the light coming under the crack of the door. He was in there.

Gently, she turned the doorknob and eased into Klaus' art studio, wary that she might find him drinking or sulking. Poking her head in the door, she gasped and threw it open as she took in the havoc that had once been a perfectly ordered array of sketches and canvases. Now, torn shreds of paper littered the floor, canvases had been ripped clean in two. Paint splattered the walls, and the framed photographs that had been hung up were scattered around the floor, the glass shattered. She wanted to cry. Those photos were of them, souvenirs of their travels, of all the places they had seen together. Treading lightly, she crouched down and picked up one of the torn sketches, only to have it ripped out of her hands before she was pressed against the wall, hands digging into her shoulders and the face of an enraged Klaus in front of her.

"Back so soon, love?" he snarled, his voice venomous. Caroline gritted her teeth, but she didn't recoil. He could hiss and snarl all he wanted; she was long past being afraid of him.

"Let go of me, Klaus," she said, her voice steady. "You don't have to do this."

"Don't I?" he asked bitterly. "You left!"

"I came back!" she yelled, her resolve snapping. Reaching up she shoved him off her, and maybe it was because he wasn't expecting it, probably because he didn't want to actually hurt her, he allowed himself to take a step back. They faced each other wearily, not knowing how to start this one.

Caroline inhaled, readying to bite the bullet. "I came back," she said again. "I was never going to leave."

Klaus laughed bitterly, walking over to a small table where a glass of scotch sat, downing its contents in a second. "And how was I supposed to be sure of that, Caroline?"

"How could you think that?" she asked, genuinely hurt that he would let himself go down that road. "How could you think I would just leave without saying goodbye?"

"What was stopping you, Caroline?" he asked, turning on her and coming forward to stand in front of her again. "How was I supposed to know you wouldn't heed the requests of those friends of yours and run back to Mystic Falls to help them like they asked? I'm sure they would be more than happy to speak against me, convince you that you did the right thing by running away, that I was never any good-"

"Oh my God, will you shut up?!" Caroline yelled, infuriated at his idiocy. "What the hell makes you think I would do that?"

"And why wouldn't you? You were the one trying to convince me that I should follow you to that godforsaken town, you were the one who wanted to help the merry band of Mystic Falls residents who, after all this time, still haven't figured out how to solve their own problems! You were so intent on leaving, so why would I assume you wouldn't just go?!"

"Because of you, you moron!" she yelled, shoving his chest. "Do you actually think I would just leave you like that? How many times do I have to tell you I love you?"

Her words hung in the air, stopping both of them in their tracks. They stood a few feet apart, panting from the force of their yelling. Glass crunched underneath their feet, the carnage reflecting their fury.

Klaus looked away first, and Caroline took note of how his hands clenched and unclenched by his side, a sure sign of nervousness. "I never know, Caroline" he said suddenly, licking his lips, still avoiding eye contact. "It wouldn't surprise me if one day I pushed it too far and you left. I never know when I've crossed the line."

Caroline scoffed, picking her way through the mess on the floor so that she could stand in front of him. Tentatively, she placed her hand on his cheek, turning his face so that he was forced to face her. "If you ever crossed the line, you would know. I would never let you forget it," she said seriously.

It was strange, she realized, to have to try to assuage his worries when she had the exact same ones. Hadn't she been wondering if he had left not ten minutes earlier? Wasn't she the one worrying that she was the one who'd push him to leave? At the end of the day, their insecurities matched them up exactly. They really were perfect for each other.

"Is that why you're so scared to go back to Mystic Falls with me?" Caroline asked, her tone gentler. "Because you think my friends will try to talk me out of our relationship?"

"I'm not scared," he snapped quickly, but she just raised her eyebrows. He sighed, conceding. "They're important to you, Caroline. You value them. Why wouldn't you listen to them?"

She closed her eyes briefly, letting her other hand come up so that she was cupping his jaw. "It's been ten years, Klaus. They stopped trying a while ago. And why would I even listen now?"

"It would only take one good argument from them – and after that fight we had…"

Caroline decided that this was enough. "Stop it. Now. I'm not going anywhere. When are you going to get that?"

He opened his mouth, but could form no response, searching her eyes for some confirmation of her words. Whatever he was looking for, he must have found it because he closed his eyes and leant his forehead against hers, his arms winding around her waist. Caroline let go of his jaw and wrapped her own arms around him, and together they stood in the attic studio, surrounded by the effects of a hurricane, enjoying the calm after the storm. After a moment, Klaus pulled back, keeping his arms around her waist.

"I'll go with you, love. We can leave in the morning, we should be in Mystic Falls by the afternoon."

Caroline smiled softly, knowing that she should have been happy; this was what she'd been pushing for for the better part of three days. But his agreement didn't make her completely happy, she realized.

"We'll leave in a week," she said decidedly. "Christmas is in two days and Elena told me it's not serious yet, they should be fine for a week."

"Are you sure, love?" asked Klaus, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Well isn't this what you wanted? Christmas, just you and me?"

"I don't like sharing, you know that," said Klaus with a smirk. "But you were so insistent on leaving to help your friends…"

"Well that's because you decided to throw a temper tantrum," she said, laughing at his indignant pout. "We'll have our Christmas together and then we can go back. See? Compromise!"

Klaus grinned and pulled her close, locking her lips in a heated kiss. "I can do compromise," he whispered huskily as he pulled away, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth. The two took a step back, and as Caroline's foot met the crunch of glass she was reminded of the mess he'd made. She pulled away and bent down to pick up a broken picture frame.

"I can't believe you tore through this place," she said, staring around. "You love this studio."

"I love you more," he said with a shrug. "And I thought you weren't coming back. Needless to say, I didn't really care what I destroyed."

"Well, we'll just have to spend tomorrow fixing it up again!" said Caroline, her cheer returning. "I just wish you hadn't destroyed the photos – they were my favourite souvenirs."

Klaus chuckled, standing behind her and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. "The beauty of eternity is that we have all the time in the world. We don't need old memories – we can always make new ones."

Klaus sped through the Italian countryside, pushing the Maserati as fast as it could go. Even with the car's incredible speed and the complete lack of traffic on the country roads this late at night, he still felt it wasn't fast enough. He needed to get back. He needed to see Caroline. For three weeks he had been deprived of her presence, his brother's request for a second hand at putting down some insurrection of witches in the outskirts of Louisiana had been hard to ignore. For the past fifteen years, he and Caroline were rarely apart, except for 'girls weekends' with his sister or her friends, or on occasions such as this, when he felt it was too dangerous to have her by his side, no matter how much he craved it.

She put up a fight of course, she always did and he wouldn't expect anything less. She was his queen, after all, the fact that she was so insistent on standing by him gave him no measure of happiness, but when her safety was concerned, he put his foot down. The witches were steeped in the practice of expression magic, and it was only with the recollection of what expression had once done to her best friend that Caroline relented, conceding that as much as they both wished otherwise, she was not truly invincible.

(It still took an entire day in bed for him to get the sour expression of her face. And even then, she made it quite clear he would be making it up to her once he returned. Not that he minded, of course.)

The dark blur of rolling Tuscan hills signaled his approaching destination and he was soon pulling into a spacious driveway in front of a beautifully restored villa. It was too dark to admire the terracotta roof and white-washed walls, but Klaus had no time for any of that, speeding out of the car and making his way to the front door. Conscious of the fact that Caroline was probably fast asleep; he eased the door open gently, noting the silence and the whisper of the wind through the open French windows on the first floor. Not hesitating, he climbed the stairs two at a time, anticipation building as he approached the door to the master bedroom. Grinning, he pushed it open.

There were no words for the ice that went through his heart at the sight of their king-sized bed, empty. Flashing over to it, he felt the covers; they were cold. No one had slept in this bed for a few days at least. Klaus fought to keep his breathing regular.

She wouldn't leave, she wouldn't leave…

She wouldn't leave Tuscany without telling him, they had agreed she would stay at the villa while he took care of the witches, it was quite safe out here. And as he looked around the room he became aware of her personal items, makeup on the vanity, and her clothes on a chair. But still, no sign of Caroline herself.

He forced himself to calm down, and focused on his surroundings. As he listened carefully, he became aware of the sound of…wood? Crackling wood – there was a fire lit somewhere in the villa. Following the sound and scent, he was led out of the bedroom and down to the first floor. Moving through the dark hallways, he stopped in front of his art studio, wondering what she could possibly be doing in there.

He eased the door open and took in the spacious room with its high wooden beamed ceiling and large glass doors which had been left open, leading onto a terrace. A wide array of paintings covered the room, on the walls, propped up against tables and easels, several finished and unfinished works. The countryside of Tuscany proved fine inspiration every now and then. A fire roared, and on the sofa in front of it, a blonde beauty lay covered by a thin afghan. He walked around the couch, and crouched down low in front of her, taking in the breathtaking sight of Caroline illuminated in the firelight.

Gently, he caressed her cheek with his knuckles. She stirred slowly then jolted awake, startled.

"Easy love," he crooned. "It's only me."

She seemed confused for a split second before her face broke out in a wide grin and she leant forward, throwing her arms around his neck.

"You're home!" she said happily, her voice muffled by his shoulder. "I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow."

"I might have broken every speeding law in Italy," said Klaus pulling back so that he could kiss her properly. His mouth was hot against her soft lips, his tongue dueling with hers. He ran his hands greedily over her lithe body, reacquainting himself with every soft curve. Growling slightly, he realized she was wearing one of his shirts – it was a common occurrence, but every time he saw her in his clothes he felt the same rush of possessiveness and desire.

"I missed you," she said in a sing-song voice, humming contentedly as he nipped kisses along her neck.

"And I you, sweetheart. But tell me, what are you doing down here? Was the bedroom insufficient?"

As he pulled away slightly to hear her answer, Caroline blushed and ducked her head shyly. "You're going to laugh," she said nervously.

Klaus chuckled and lifted her chin with a finger. "Possibly, but it'll be out of affection," he said lightly. "So come on, why are you sleeping here?"

"I always sleep in your art studios when you're away," Caroline admitted reluctantly. "I miss you when you're gone– but when I'm surrounded by your art, I just feel…closer to you somehow. I know, it's silly right?"

Klaus took in a sharp breath at her confession. "No, Caroline. It's not silly at all," he said, his voice a little hoarse. To think that she felt more at ease surrounded by his art…he felt a rush of affection for the young blonde, humbled by her admittance.

Quickly, Klaus shed his jacket and boots. Realizing what he was planning to do, Caroline sat up and perched on the edge of the couch cushion, allowing him to climb onto the sofa and position himself behind her. She lay back down, snuggling back into him and he wrapped his arm tight around her waist.

"I love you, you know," he said quietly, staring at the outline of her face in the firelight.

"Oh, I know," she said cheekily, squeezing the arm around her.

"What I mean is, sweetheart, I've been remembering what I said to you sixteen years ago, after you graduated – I intended to be your last love."

"And you are," she said with a small laugh. "Where are you going with this?"

"Marry me."

Her breath stilled. She wasn't too sure she had heard him right. "Did you just…did you just propose?"

Klaus grinned, sitting up against the armrest, pulling Caroline with him so that she sat on his lap. "Problem, love?"

"Well…I just…I didn't expect you to do it like that…not to say I expected you to propose but-"

She was cut off as Klaus leant forward and kissed her. "Should I try again, Caroline?" he whispered against her lips. "The top of the Eiffel tower, a gondola in Venice – I can make it spectacular."

Caroline pulled away slightly to see the earnest look in his eyes. Turning her head away for a moment she looked around the spacious room, with the beautiful art surrounding them.

Genuine beauty.

"No." She looked him in the eyes, beaming. "This is perfect. And to answer your question…yes."

They both laughed then, carefree and amazed that this was actually happening. Carolien lunged forward to kiss him again and he responded by pinning her to the sofa, the two of them losing all sense of the world except for the fact that they were engaged.

"Wait! You need a ring!" said Caroline playfully. "Looks like the big bad hybrid is unprepared for a change."

Klaus just grinned and reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. "You were saying, sweetheart?" Popping open the box, he revealed a gorgeous diamond ring. "I've been carrying this around for two months now. You should know, I'm always one step ahead."

Caroline would've rolled her eyes at his smug attitude, but she was too distracted by the fact that he was slipping the ring on her finger. "It's beautiful," she whispered softly.

"You're beautiful," he replied, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. As his hands wandered to the hem of the shirt she wore, he fingered her lace underwear and slipped his nimble fingers under the material. Beauty of the ring forgotten, Caroline arched under him, gasping in ecstasy and losing herself to his touch.

Needless to say, they didn't leave the studio for the rest of the night.

Well there's that! I hope you liked it, please leave a review and let me know what you think, and I hope you're all having a great weekend!

Feel free to follow me on Tumblr at hummingbirds-and-champagne.

UPDATE 17/11/13: Sara (nightmare2054) was kind enough to translate this fic into French, you can read it at s/9854675/1/Inside-the-studio