wholeworldoutthere | (no subject)

"Caroline," he says, and he's got his wrists back from her, but he's still glaring. "When have I ever done anything to give you the impression that I didn't want it? Save that one time when you were as good as drunk on something the station must have given to you, and you said something so impossible that I would have challenged it if you had been in your normal state?"

His words are even, and measured, because he's trying very hard not to raise his voice, not to let his anger twist them.

"You left." With a bloody note that said that she didn't want to talk to him, or see him. "Don't put this on me."

And that's when she's confused, when she's legitimately confused, and she's not trying to pick at him, but she's just staring up at him. "Why do you think it's impossible?" Her brows furrowed, and she swallowed. "It's not. And- I... I don't know what was... It was weird. There wasn't- there wasn't that voice that said stop, you know? The thing that like- it wasn't there."

But it's here now, and it's eating at her, telling her that she's got an out, that she can say it was the weird stuff, that it was something else and not her, and she considers it, but the fact that he thinks it's impossible is what's killing her and changing her mind, that's making it a hard choice.

"It's not impossible," she says quietly, and she's not knowing if he'll believe her, and she's doing that thing she does, when she like, shrugs and it's so clear she doesn't know what to do, and she can't manage to pull together the facade even though she's trying really hard. "And I don't know, when you said you didn't want to be my friend, or- you didn't even say that. That I didn't mean it, and I felt- You totally freaked out, you just didn't say anything." She said it quietly, and she's first rubbing at her hands then putting them in her pockets then rubbing them on her jeans because she doesn't know what else to do.

"I didn't 'freak out'," Klaus says, with something close to an eye roll, because only Caroline could make it sound so... teenagery. "I debated whether to say anything, but in your state? There was no point, Caroline. Have you ever tried arguing with a drunk person?"

He doesn't expect an answer, and that's not what matters most right then. "But you don't love me." Neither of them has said the word since, but he has no problem saying it now. "You couldn't love me. Fancy me, sure. But love me? You hardly know me." They are barely scratching the surface of each other.

Her brows furrow, and she tenses even as he's standing there, even as he says she can't feel the way she does, and she feels vulnerable and stupid and sort of mad and scared but she looks away, and she's talking quietly because she's waiting to look up and- and she doesn't know. For him to be gone or- or who knows, because it's not who Caroline is, to be careful with her heart. She gives it, whole and complete, and it means she hurts and has to carry that with her.

But still, she feels, and she's not going to say she doesn't because it's a lie, and because she's eighteen and even if he wants her to be like him, it's not who she is.

"I do," she says, and then she just keeps talking, even though she's looking at the chair next to him instead of him, which is sort of a total cop out. "I know how much you care about people. You don't want to, but you do. Your family, most of all, but me, some, and other people here. I know about your sense of humor, which is ridiculous," she says glancing at him and shaking her head. "But it's sort of...funny, actually. Sort of. Well, more than sort of. It's very British. And I know about the quiet part of you, that's okay to sit and draw, or just sit and not do anything. And your temper's super short, but you can roll with the punches and usually if you're pissed off and it's for a stupid reason you'll back off, even though sometimes it can get worse than that. I know how much you value the important stuff, the unique stuff." She paused. "And I know that there's a lot more to know, but if I have to know somebody a hundred percent to love them, I won't ever love anybody."

She bit the inside of her lip. "I trust you," she says quietly. "And when I think about you, when I think about you not being here, it- I don't want to think about it, and that's not all trust, and it's not just that I have a crush on you. I want you to be happy, I want- I like the person I am around you." She ducked her head with a soft laugh. "And this is super sad and hello, emotional unloading, I just- Maybe it's not the sort of love you feel for your family, because that's the sort of stuff that's like, forever in the making, and this is new and special, but I do. So that's it, I guess. Speech over, you can go back to your regularly scheduled being pissed at me or whatever."

It's a lot to take in, and he's not that surprised, because it is who she is and much as she likes to hide who she is, when it comes pouring out she doesn't hold back, so he's not that surprised but he's a little shaken all the same, even if it doesn't show because he can't afford to show it. He's cautious in a way she isn't, less in what he says and more in what he feels, and this is shaking him slightly.

"Answer me this," he requests, and holds her gaze, and again he feels as if he is signing their death sentence. "What if you friends were here."

"I hope Elena would understand," she said quietly. "And she really doesn't have any room to talk. But you can't hurt her. Okay? Her or Bonnie, no matter what. But-" She's thought about it.

"There's nothing you've done that Damon hasn't," she said quietly. "He killed Bonnie's mom. And he's killed a bunch of people, and so has Stefan. I won't let them hurt you." Her brows furrowed. "I mean, they're totally going to think that you like, brainwashed me or something, which you obviously haven't, and I don't know if they'll ever understand, but I'm not going to pick them over you. It may be The Thing We Don't Talk About, but- I mean." She paused, and her voice lowered. "Elena loves Damon, and he-" And she knows Klaus knows, and she doesn't say it again. "And I'm still her best friend, you know? So I hope they'd understand. But you can't do anything to them, okay?" And it's back to her making herself an island, isolating herself with crossed arms and looking anywhere but at his face besides the sparest of glances because she doesn't know if what she said is good enough, or if it's done.

It's everything but the answer to his actual question, but it's enough of an answer that he'll roll with it.

"Fine," he accepts it, not her request but her many statements, and he doesn't sound impressed at all by the way she's been talking, or the way she's holding herself now and keeps avoiding his gaze. He reaches for her hand, and takes it, forcing her body language to open up some. "But you don't walk out on me again."

Fine. She guesses that's what she gets, is that she says all this stuff and she gets a one-word answer, and he still sounds pissed, and she looks up at the ceiling as he takes her hand, and then she finally looks at his face. "Okay," she says, and she sounds tired. "Sometimes I have to just get away because I'm way too angry or something, and I need to be alone, but- but I can tell you that I need to be by myself," she says, and it's the same sort of compromise she'd made with her mom after she'd stayed at the Gilbert's for three days and it took Liz that long to realise she was missing, but when she'd realised she'd been frantic. "Okay?"

"You don't have to tell me everywhere you go," Klaus answers, with a genuine frown of confused disbelief. "And if we fight, feel free to walk out. But don't... do what you did again. Don't sneak out. Don't leave a note."

A break-up note. The very thought of breaking up still doesn't sit well with him, because it's not something that ever really happens to him. But if it's going to happen, it's going to happen to his face.

That does get an eye roll, the first part. "I mean if I'm going to be gone for a while. Sometimes I need... a couple of days, or something." She then pauses. "But I promise. I'll tell you." She's shrugging, and she's tugging her hand from his, because he's still- he's still just brushing over it, and it drives her crazy, sure, and just--

"So that's that, I guess. All out there. So. Yeah." She forces that smile. "Hey, I guess you know now, at least, so that's good, right?" She takes a deep breath, and then-- "I know you're still mad. So. I mean. That's okay. It's okay. You know?" Even though it wasn't really, she was just... done pushing.

He lets her hand go, and he doesn't like that smile. "Come on," he simply tells her, and nods his head in the vague direction of his room. "We'll talk more."

But not out here where everybody could listen in.

She's not expecting that, not expecting him to ask her back, she's sort of expecting him to just leave again, to be too angry or whatever or too wrapped up in his like, you left stuff (which, hello, she thought she had abandonment issues, boy howdy.) so she just nods, and just goes, still holding herself to herself, because it's how she feels, like she just like dumped out her soul and he's all I'm just going to stand here and it still stings, that You couldn't love me like she didn't matter and didn't know what she was thinking or feeling or was dumb or whatever.

But she still goes with him, still heads to his room, deep in her own thoughts.

Klaus doesn't like the vibe he gets off of her, too caught up in her own mind and it's like she didn't mean anything she said. It doesn't feel like she did, after all. It feels like she said her lines and now she wants out, but he's not going to address it yet, or even really confront her about it. He's just going to do his best to draw her out of it, which will start with touch.

It starts with touch once they're inside his room, and his hand brushes down her arm as he looks at her face, to see if she flinches, or winces, or looks away.

She sort of jumps because she'd been far enough into her own head to not be paying attention, but she looks up at him with that furrow between her brows. "Sorry," she says quietly. "Thinking." She licks her lips, and bites her lip. "I didn't think you'd want to talk more, to be super honest." She doesn't say more than that, but instead just watches him, gnawing at her lower lip.

"What did you expect?" he asks, watching her, and he's no longer touching her since he made her jump and he dropped his hand. Instead, he gestures for her to take a seat, and the gesture encompasses a chair and the bed, whatever she prefers.

She sits on the very edge of his bed, her hands on her knees, and she shrugs. "That you're still mad at me, and you'd just-" And that's when she looks away, when she looks down. "Leave." Come back here, but not invite her with him.

This was not what she expected to have happen. When she tells somebody that she loves them, she expects them to freak out, or to be happy, but not this.... nothing.

Since he doesn't know how she feels about proximity just then, and the last thing he wants is to spook her somehow, Klaus grabs one of the chairs and drags it over to the bedside he can sit right in front of Caroline. It'll be easy to reach out for her if he wants to, and there's something about sitting in front of her, instead of beside her, that works better for a genuine conversation. You can't be an artist without recognising the power of symbols.

"Caroline, you just gave me a speech right out of - one of these shows the geek says we're from," Klaus points out. "And you expected me to leave?"

"You don't believe me," she says, and she finally looks up at him again. "And I know you're mad, and you don't-" She paused then, because-- she doesn't want to say it out loud and confirm it even though she knows it. "So. It's okay, and of course it's all- It's all valid, you know? You're-" And then she stops, because she's got this talent of blowing things up in the her head, and making them worse, and he's like a thousand years old, and she's just some girl who's in love with him and it probably happens to him a lot and he probably thinks that she's a moron and she shouldn't have said anything.

"It's okay," she says again, nodding to confirm it. "So yeah, I just- That's it."

"You've just used a lot of words to say next to nothing," he points out, with raised eyebrows. "Ask me. What you want to know. What you think you know. Ask me."

She's probably not going to like all of his answers, but it's not the kind of offer he usually makes to people, so he hopes she'll take him up on it.

There's the one thing that she wants to ask, but she doesn't because she knows he'll roll his eyes and not understand why she wants to ask if he hates her now, because she doesn't mean hate-hate, but that like I can't stand you right now thing instead. She's pretty sure that he doesn't- No, she knows he doesn't feel the same way, and it hurts, but she's tucked that away, and what she ends up asking is something that surprises her.

"Do you believe me?"

Answer number one that she's not going to like, then. "I believe that you might believe it." All of his body language says that he is focused on her, and he's not being truthful to hurt her, he's being truthful because she deserves the truth, no matter what. "But I don't believe that you could love me already, no."

There's a part of him that thinks, ever, but it's the part of him he never lets speak. He lets it influence his actions more often than not, but he's trying not to let that happen anymore. Hence Caroline.

She nods once, and it's small and she swallows. "Okay," she says. Just the one word, a statement, not a question. "Are you angry?"

Besides that second question, she doesn't move, barely breathes, doesn't let anything show. Now is one of those times that she desperately wants to be by herself, because it does hurt, it hurts more than a lot of things have hurt her - certainly the most hurtful thing he's said, but she doesn't let herself, she won't be the one to show weakness. Not now.

He's trying to see beyond the façade of strength she's putting on, and maybe the fact that she's putting it on at all is answer enough, but maybe it isn't. She'll share if she wants to, and she's asked him a second question.

"I'm hurt," he answers, because it's exactly what he wishes she would share with him. How she's feeling, so he says it even though he wouldn't usually say anything. "I usually respond to that with anger," he adds, with a hint of a smile, because that's nothing new to her. "Talking is getting me past that."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she says quietly, and it's something she lets slip past that façade, that she really means it from the heart of her. "I'm sorry." Which means he is still angry. Still, she's not talking, because she's all wrapped up in it, because what can she say? He says you don't love me, and she says she does, and then he doesn't believe her, and she can't make him.

There's no winner. Because she feels like it's pointing out every flaw, like she's stupid and can't know and then why have they been doing this, why does she trust him, because she shouldn't. And there's nothing that could really be more patronizing and talking down than I believe you believe it. That's how you talk to a crazy person, and even if he doesn't believe her, and even if he doesn't lie, there's still other ways to put it, other things to say.

"I won't do it again, I promise." And then she looks down, while she tries to think of another question, while she tries to not think about his answers, but then- "I guess I don't really need to know anything else," she says quietly, but then- "Will you hate me if I go back to my room?" She glances up at him, and she's holding herself perfectly in control, and she genuinely wants to know.

Edited ( ) 2012-06-21 22:26 (UTC)

"You'd have to do a lot worse than that for me to hate you," Klaus answers, genuinely, because he never hated her, that whole time. He was mad at her, yes, but hate - hate is something she hasn't deserved yet. And to be fair, he's rarely managed to truly hate anyone. His life would have been far easier if he had.

He never even hated Tatia.