Liz Forbes never really liked to admit when she was wrong.
After all, being a female Sheriff in charge of a mostly male department wasn’t easy and she’d had to cop a lot of flak from not only her colleagues but from the town people who didn’t like being ordered or arrested by a woman.
So being wrong about something could mean losing what respect and footing she’d gained.
But this time, she would gladly admit she had been wrong all those years ago.
It had been an overcast summer day, raining heavily and she had been watching an afternoon movie in her living room, deliberately pretending to be engrossed in the tv while she was definitely aware that her daughter was in a car parked just a few houses down the street, making out with Niklaus Mikaelson.
Although, that wasn’t what she had been wrong about, after all, anyone could have seen that her daughter and that boy would end up dating, it had been very clear since they were about six years old and Caroline had come home with a Valentine’s Day card that had been an origami heart.
Liz was pretty sure they still had that somewhere around the house.
They’d been inseparable for years- until now.
Klaus had been granted a scholarship and early admissions to Sorbonne University in Paris to study art.
He would be leaving at the end of the summer, which was only another two weeks away.
And Liz had figured that their relationship would survive that.
Being in two different time zones and two different continents?
No matter how much Caroline plotted and planned, Liz had watched the two of them with a sinking heart and guessed that they would drift apart until they stopped making a place for each other in their lives.
And she was sorry for that, because the two of them were so in love that it felt good to see them together.
And when Caroline came home after seeing Klaus off at the airport, three hours late because she hadn’t been able to drive she was crying so hard, Liz felt her own heart break too.
Then had come the postcards, one sent from the airport and arriving almost every day until the mailman was almost as invested in the relationship as she was.
Then one day, not only had the daily postcard arrived, but it had come on top of a thick package from the United Kingdom.
And when Liz had seen the stamp and address, she’d committed a federal crime and opened it.
Inside was a letter congratulating Caroline on having been accepted to study Urban Design at University College London, followed by a long list of the scholarships she had won.
Underneath that, had been the loyalty card that Caroline had already signed up for on a train called the Eurostar, which ran from London straight to Paris in just over two hours.
It’s at this point that she starts to suspect that she had been wrong.
And her heart breaks again at her daughter going so far away to study but when it’s one of the top twenty universities in the world, she can’t stop her, so she and Bill coordinate meeting at a hotel near Richmond airport, taking Caroline out for dinner before seeing her through the gates and then finding an airport lounge to drink and cry with pride over how their baby girl has grown up.
The postcards from Paris don’t stop arriving but the number dies down, Klaus still keeping in touch and postcards from London soon follow, along with skype calls and long emails. From what Liz can gather, every Thursday night (because God forbid humanities students have classes on Fridays) Caroline either catches the train to Paris or Klaus comes to see her in London, and Liz felt sorry for their roommates until she found out that they had their own rooms.
Klaus graduates before Caroline and from what she can gather from her daughter’s email, something about his visa meant he had to go back to America without her because she was finishing exams.
Liz somewhat suspects that is bull and when Klaus turns up on her doorstep looking a little nervous, she finally admits to herself that she had been wrong.
“I think you two should work for a year before getting engaged,” she tells him before he even steps inside, “Have you spoken to Bill?”
He exhales, “I’m seeing him next, I really did have to get my visa sorted out in New York.”
He reaches into his pocket and draws out a blue velvet box,
“I sold a few paintings and bought this for Caroline, do you think she’ll like it?”
Liz notes the Tiffany and Co stamp, opens the lid and swallows her shriek at the square cut diamond in the platinum band.
Damn, her daughter knew how to pick ‘em.
She manages to hold herself together long enough to hug the poor boy and until she gets a call from Bill where he mutters that he wish Steven had bought him a ring like that.
She feels as though she wants to cry but can’t stop smiling.
She manages both when a year later, on Christmas Eve, Caroline surprises her with a visit back home and practically bounces through the door with the engagement ring on her finger.
And Liz Forbes had honestly never been so glad to be wrong about something.
“Klaus, what I feel for you has nothing to do with the Bond, and everything to do with you. You have been the one person I can always turn to. I used to hate that. Now, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Caroline is a human who suddenly finds herself mated to the most powerful werewolf in existence. The mate Bond is a powerful thing. Caroline knew who Klaus was the moment she laid eyes on him…and the wolf laid eyes on her. Although with the Bond comes many things, love is far from one of them. Love is more than a chemical. Love takes time.
Camille said goodnight to Klaus and his siblings with a plan in mind.
Rebekah had shown her to her temporary room – she wasn’t safe in the city for some reason they didn’t tell her – but that wasn’t where she was heading.
All upstairs was lined with spelled sage candles, though only a few were lit up. She sidestepped them for the room she wanted, at the end of the hall.
It was Klaus’ room, and she’d only ever seen it once. With dark walls, a big bed, and many pieces of artwork, it screamed ‘Klaus Mikaelson’.
She gently sat on the bed, wanting to savor being there. It was so intimate. She knew that no one else came in this room, but maybe he’d let her now that she’d come in. He was warming up to her, so it was a good possibility.
She looked around, hoping for more clues into his personality. She didn’t find much, just paintings, letters, and, oddly, a pair of women’s underwear. Camille stared at it for a long moment, noting how it seemed recent, almost like something she owned. She knew he’d never panty raided her…but what if he did? There would be no way she would know unless he said so. She shivered at the possibilities.
She set the lace down where it had been in the first place, in his drawer full of keepsakes, and moved back to the bed.
There was a phone on the bedside table. Curious, she picked it up, and opened it easily. None of the Mikaelsons had passcodes. Too technologically advanced, apparently.
There weren’t any apps, nothing on Safari, no notes, nothing like that. She didn’t check the texts, though, because surely there was a line she couldn’t cross and that was it. She did, however, check the contacts.
There were only a few – Elijah, Katherine, Queen, Rebekah, and Stefan. She only recognized the names of his siblings, though the name Stefan did sound familiar. The other two names sent a flare of jealousy through her. Katherine? Queen? Really?
Completely disregarding her hesitancy, she clicks on the texting app.
So what if her ex, Stefan Salvadouche III, thought she couldn’t get into Harvard?
Caroline loved proving people wrong.
Except for that new transfer student, fresh out of Oxford - cute accent, preppy uniform and all.
Klaus Mikaelson was grumpy and rude and arrogant to the bone. But that wasn’t the end of his offences against Caroline.
Those stupidly attractive dimples cut his cheeks any time he shot her his signature smug grin. A few loose curls of his dirty blonde hair always fell defiantly against his forehead and it was distracting. Almost as distracting as the way the tip of his tongue flicked against his lower lip whenever they argued.
And the worst of all, out of all the people on campus, he wasn’t wrong about her.
He said she was pushy - he got that right.
He claimed that she was a bitchy know-it-all - how delightfully accurate.
“caroline, i’m standing in one of my favorite places in the world surrounded by food, music, art, culture, and all I could think about is how much i want to show it to you. maybe one day you’ll let me.”
“Do you remember what you said to me?” she says, words bleeding together in a rush, but he manages to understand. Klaus lips twist with wry amusement, “Do I remember drunkenly confessing to loving you? Something I’d never done before, or since? Of course I do. Sort of hard to forget, when I always assumed it to be the reason you fled.”
a roman affair: t h e a r t i s t a n d t h e s i n g e r a u
With him, it’s a grand exhibit of paintings, each one worth a place
in the Hermitage. Other times, it’s as simple as a sketch left on a
subway or a graffiti etched on a wall in Paris. Always of a mysterious
girl bathed in white and gold.
With her, it’s a
cover video or a one-liner lyric posted at 3am. Sometimes it’s a random
melody she would suddenly strum in the lull moments of a live concert. Other times it’s a full album of songs about a pair of eyes as blue as