Mate/soulmate pretty please
AU/AH. So. Much. Fluff.
The funny thing about being a person, or the sad thing depending on your perspective, is that one was confined to their own vision of the world. No, really, this isn’t a matter of theoretical thinking only. This is also literal. It’s why one can never realize that they had weak eyesight till they tried on glasses. Or how one doesn’t realize that their hearing is impaired until they are given a hearing aid. The list goes on and on, really. And no shocking discovery to limited vision of the world was like Caroline’s.
It started ever since she was as young as four years old. Her mother, Caroline began to notice, had awful taste. She had no sense whatsoever of color coordination. Their house was an absolute mess of colors. Pinks were put with unflattering reds and oranges. The bedsheets were a combination of loud yellows and greens. The living room was dull greys and whites with a stark red couch. It looked like someone just put random things together. And her mother’s outfits? Do not even get her started on that. It’s like her mother had no sense whatsoever of color coordination. Caroline had no qualms over pointing that out to her mom, repeatedly.
“Why do you dress like that, mom?”
“No, mom, I’m not wearing those shoes with this dress, they don’t match!”
Her mother didn’t seem to give much thought into her daughter’s antiques, dismissing her as a stubborn child. She went along with whatever her daughter said but never really and truly thought of what it might mean. And, perhaps if she had, then Caroline wouldn’t have found herself shell-shocked at fifteen while shopping with her friends.
Bonnie was holding up navy blue high heels to a green dress, asking her what she thought.
“Bon, you need black shoes. Those are navy blue.” Caroline said dismissively, grabbing the same pair that Bonnie liked but in the right color. She turned around to hand it to her friend only to find her looking at her with eyes wide, mouth hanging opened.
“Care…” Bonnie said slowly, “when did you start seeing colors?”
Caroline blinked. “Umm… what?”
“Caroline,” Bonnie put down her items onto a nearby seat and coming closer to her friend with a grin plastered across her face. “Did you meet your soulmate?”
“Bonnie, what on Earth are you talking about?” Caroline, confused and slightly afraid, looked at her friend as if she was growing a second head.
Bonnie’s smile began to slowly disappear. “Did your mom not have a talk with you? Have you always seen in color?”
“What talk? What do you mean have I always seen in color? Bonnie, you’re sounding like a crazy person right now.”
Except, it turned out, Bonnie was not the crazy person. Caroline was. To an extent at least. It turned out, she wasn’t supposed to see in color until she met her soulmate. It turned out, no one saw in color until they met their soulmate. Parents, those who had time for their children and have actually found their soulmates, had talks with their children as early as when they turned fourteen years old, telling them how the world is actually in color. And when they see color, they’ll know they met their soulmate. And the first color that they see will be that of their soulmate’s eyes. But no one flaunted their ability to see color. It was considered rude to do so, especially at such a young age. Finding one’s soulmate during their teenage years was rare. And there was no need to enflame jealousy. Eventually the secret would come out in any case, since those with soulmates stuck together instead of dating sporadically. The keeping it as a secret, though, did not apply to friends. Friends tell.
None of that concerned Caroline, though. What concerned was: first, how in heavens name did she manage to completely evade this information for so long; and, second, how could she see color already? She had never seen the world in black and white, not once. The world had been in colors for as long as she remembered.
With that in mind, Bonnie took Caroline to her grams.
“It’s one of two things, dear,” grams said, “you have either met your soulmate as an infant or a child already. Or you are a strange anomaly and you don’t have a soulmate.”
“That’s not helpful,” Caroline muttered. “How do I find out which one it is? What do I do if I don’t have a soulmate?”
“If you have indeed met your soulmate already, then you’ll find out when you see them again. Your heart will tell you. And if you have no soulmate, then you’ll fall in love and be just as happy. It’s no bother, Caroline.” Grams smiled much to Caroline’s frustration. How could she act as if this was of no big consequences?
“What do I do now?” she demanded.
“Nothing. Just be patient.”
Patience wasn’t her strong suit. But she hadn’t much of a choice.
Seven years later, in her first semester as a grad student, an infuriating Klaus Mikaelson walked into her class. At first glance, he was handsome. At a second glance, he was an arrogant asshole who had no sense whatsoever of the word “no”. At third he was still frustratingly attractive. But the kind of attractive that warranted nothing more than a romp in the bed. And he didn’t seem to mind that one bit.
After many, many, many arguments over critical feminist theory, Caroline found him in her bed. For a long time, that’s the only way they associated with one another. Stress-relievers. Friends with benefits with too much benefits and not enough friendship. Call it what you will. Except, time after time there was more soft touching, more passionate whispering, more intense kissing. Until she caught him one time looking up at her with the gentlest look she’s ever seen anyone wear. His face was nuzzled in her stomach, leaving gentle, burning kisses, and his eyes were tracing every twitch on her face. So fixated his gaze was, so intent that she felt a nakedness beyond her physical one.
“What?” she asked breathlessly.
He didn’t answer her, just continued his climb from her stomach, over her breasts, her shoulders, her neck, leaving a trail of fire behind him before capturing her lips in a slow kiss. He kissed her as if he was in no hurry at all. He kissed her like they had all the time in the world. He kissed her like his entire universe had just shrunk into her mouth and he was searching for his purpose in her.
After they collapsed together, finding a bliss that made her heart beat in a way that frightened her, he held her close. His eyes didn’t let up their search. His index finger traced her cheek, then her lower lip.
“Klaus…” she breathed, not knowing what exactly she wanted to say. She cannot possibly tell him that her heart is about to burst.
“Go out with me, love.”
She averted her gaze from his stormy blue ones to the tattoo spread on his shoulder. She reached out to him, tracing the ink gently with her fingers.
“Tell me first,” she began, realizing her nerves for the first time, “do you see colors?”
He chuckled. “I’m an artist, Caroline, of course I see color.”
She gave him a look, “you know that’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” he said. “I have always seen color.”
“Me, too.” She breathed.
“And I don’t believe in soulmates. Never have.”
“Then why are you asking me out?” she teased, unable to explain the relief that came over her.
“Because I believe that I’m falling in love with you.”
She blinked, then caught his lips in a bruising kiss. Suffice to say, saying “no” did not even occur to her.
“It is a pity that we have to leave this town.” Esther said, taking another sip of her tea. “But Mikael cannot refuse this offer.”
“The town will not be the same without you.” Liz said, smiling sadly at her friend. “I was hoping that Caroline would get to play with Nik and Rebekah.” She grinned at three-years-old Klaus with Caroline bundled on his lap. He was looking at the infant, wide-eyed with fascination. She reached out to touch his face. He responded by making faces at her which she laughed at.
“Indeed.” Esther chuckled. “It would appear Caroline had already charmed Niklaus.”
An hour later, as Niklaus walked beside his mother towards her car, he noticed for the first time that the car was a loud red.