Letters to Juliet
This is for the awesome and talented belated birthday girl @howeverlongs for her love and that gorgeous cover, I hope you like this mini drabble in the meantime.
New Orleans (present day - 6 months after the TVD finale)
Klaus thought he was going mad. His eyes flickered opened, slowing trying to gain his bearings as his nose picked up a very familiar scent. It wasn’t just any scent either, it was hers. It was Caroline. It wasn’t the first time though and Klaus knew it wouldn’t be the last given his frequent visions.
“So, is this how you treat all your guests? Or am I just lucky, Mikaelson?” She asked, appearing in the doorway hands on hips. She looked gorgeous as usual, her golden waves falling over her shoulders and those expressive blue eyes staring him down. What he couldn’t quite work out was whether she was real or a figment of his imagination, yet again.
New Orleans - Three months post TVD finale
Klaus remembered that day well. It was a Friday and he’d stumbled out of his studio around 10am after a long night painting. The morning sunlight was spilling in through the large bay window as Klaus walked into his expansive kitchen. He flipped on the kettle switch, hoping that some tea would aid some much needed sleep.
It was the third night that week he’d painted through the night, too restless to sleep. Klaus knew why of course, not that he’d admit it aloud. It had been three months since he sent the cheque. Klaus hadn’t really expected a response but it didn’t mean that he didn’t want one. His thoughts had been filled with her and her reaction. She hadn’t cashed the cheque, that was all he did know. But Klaus needed to know more.
“That scruffy, homeless look is really becoming on you, Niklaus,” Rebekah drawled, breaking Klaus from his thoughts. He didn’t respond just emmited a low growl of frustration. “Good morning to you too, sunshine.”
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Can’t a girl want to spend time with her brother?”
“No,” he shot back.
“I think its time you get some sleep, grouchy, unbearable insomniac isn’t your best look.”
“No, its time he got laid,” his younger brother interrupted, swiping an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. Klaus rolled his eyes, all he wanted was to have a nice cup of tea and here he was stuck with the bloody peanut gallery. “All of that brooding over blondie isn’t going to relieve the stress.”
“I am not brooding,” Klaus scowled, not even bothering to deny that she was on his mind. “And not that it’s any of your business but I happen to relieve plenty of stress in the studio.”
“Only because all you do is paint Ms Forbes,” Elijah added, opening the fridge door and inspecting its contents.
“Could I maybe get at least two seconds of peace?”
“Not until you open the letter that arrived for you from blondie which Rebekah has in her greedy, little hands,” Kol scowled. Klaus suddenly felt buoyed, he’d been desperate to hear from her for what seemed like forever. He immediately narrowed his eyes in his sister’s direction.
“You took my letter?”
“I was about to bring it to you,” she replied, defensively.
“Only because I insisted she did,” Elijah murmured.
“Did you read this?” He insisted, snatching it from her grasp unexpectedly.
“Unfortunately not,” Kol muttered. “Elijah went all overbearing big brother on that possibility too.”
“Maybe we should leave Niklaus in peace to read his letter,” the eldest suggested, attempting to steer his younger siblings from the room.
“But we’re just getting to the good part,” Kol whined.
“How about I leave instead,” Klaus growled, leaving quickly his cup of tea long forgotten. He wasn’t sure what to expect but all Klaus cared about was that she’d responded. After shutting his bedroom door, he undid the flap equal parts nervous and excited.
The first thing he noticed was his cheque as it fell from the envelope, and floated onto the floor beneath him. Klaus should have known the obstinate blonde wouldn’t take his gift so easily. He sat down on the nearest chair and finished unfolding the white stationery, her neat cursive coming into view.
“Klaus, while I appreciate your kind gesture I cannot accept your rather enormous and quite frankly over the top gift. Might I suggest flowers or chocolate for the next girl you want to impress?” She’d signed it quite formally at the bottom and Klaus let out a small chuckle. In two sentences she’d captured everything he loved about her. That unapologetic pride, that snappy wit and her apparent need to impart advice.
Klaus wasn’t going to let this go and walked towards his desk, scooping up his cheque as he went. It would be a crime not to respond given how much her words spoke to him. He produced a piece of paper and began writing.