#Finally full accessorized Klaus!

[mokolat]

Necklaces and bracelets Klaus compilation            (because I never imagine that my personnal fashion taste for him could possibly became canon ♥ Woohoo!)

[sunshineandfangs]

Klarosummer - Jello Shots || Eizehu chachâm? Eize’hu gibôr?

@klarosummerbingo

This one contains religious themes, see bottom note for my title explanation. However, I am more using the mythology of beings than any type of scripture. Sorta Supernatural-esque I suppose. (But with fewer direct references and hopefully way less convolution and weird plots...) Although, how my mind went from jello shots to this... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oh uh and a dash of angst, but it’s resolved I promise!

---

Caroline eyed the multiple mixing bowls, each filled with a different colored jello. She flitted between them, making sure each was properly stirred, ignoring the eyes she could feel burning into the back of her head. Her sorority party needed jello-shots after all. What kind of party would it be without them?

“Caroline,” a masculine voice called out from behind her, clear disapproval in his tone.

She feigned obliviousness, measuring out different ratios of water and vodka to make shots of varying potency. Red would be nearly all vodka while violet would just be normal jello. Virgin Violets, she giggled to herself, pleased with her silly alliteration.

“This is suicidal, Caroline,” the voice continued.

She hummed, turning to fetch the small 4 oz cups, only to stop short as Klaus materialized in front of her.

“Cease ignoring me,” he growled.

Huffing, Caroline crossed her arms (hugged herself) as she raised her eyebrows at him. Forced her tone to be normal as she spoke. “Well, then do something useful, Klaus, and help me make these jello shots. Perhaps, then I would have time to chat.”

His scowl deepened in the face of faux-cavalier attitude, and he waved an arm. Instead of mixing bowls, a rainbow of jello-filled plastic cups now stretched across the counter.

She sighed, stance unconsciously softening, fighting the twitch in her lip as she noticed he had organized them all by color.

It was a bit annoying (hurtful) that he had used his power, but what else was she expecting given what she had said? Still, she thanked him. There was no need for poor manners.

He just raised an expectant brow, hands now clasped behind his back. “Our discussion, Caroline?”

Swallowing, she gestured toward the living room and took a seat on the sofa, patting the space next to her in invitation. She leaned back against the arm, bracing herself for what would likely be another diatribe.

It seemed she was right to do so, Klaus right at her heels, angling himself toward her, an intense expression on his face. The last time he had looked at her like that they had been standing, his bloody hands on her arms, bodies at their feet.

Two Years Ago

Heels clicking as she sped walked through the packed streets of Manhattan, Caroline went over her day’s to-do list. Though mostly on autopilot, it was easy for her to move around the crowd, weaving her way to where she needed to be.

Heading up Macdougal St, back toward NYU, her eyes caught on her familiar suited stranger, staring at her from his seat outside one of the many cafés. As always he looked just a tad out of place. 

Maybe to everyone else he seemed like a particularly well-dressed businessman, but she knew better. For one thing, he always wore the same suit, from the lightly patterned tie to how he buttoned the jacket. And more importantly, she had been catching glimpses of him and then interacting with him her whole life. 

As the Forbes heiress she was used to the occasional bodyguard. They might not be anywhere near the richest people in the world, but they were still easily part of the 1%. That being said normal, human bodyguards aged. 

Her mysterious overseer never did.

---

Although to say he just observed her wasn’t quite true either. Her lips quirked remembering the first time he had spoken to her. How he had crouched down beside her at the park, no one else seeming to take notice of his sudden appearance, stating brusquely that she should avoid going home for the next hour. Then, disappeared just as abruptly. 

He had delivered several other similar messages until she managed to catch him off guard. Precocious eight-year-old Caroline had been a force with the way she snagged his arm in her grasp and informed him, quite seriously, that humans didn’t interact with one another like he did with her. And maybe he should work on that?

To this day, she wasn’t quite sure why he listened to her, but the next time he showed up with a warning he actually greeted her. An almost fond Hello, Caroline fell from his lips along with some inane commentary about the weather to which she had blinked in bewilderment. He then proceeded to deliver his typical message and, to her astonishment, wished her well before departing.

And over the years, she’d continue to offer him little pieces of advice. (You know smiling wouldn’t break your face? The crazy-eyed stare would be scary to normal people. Why on earth do you always wear the same clothes? (He ignored that one and the next time he showed up she rolled her eyes, commenting he could at least accessorize.) He added a striped pocket-square. (In monochrome though, he was a disaster.))

Mentioned some of her favorites parts of being human. (Determination. Passion. Ambition. People tend to want to do things with their lives, you know? I know I do.)

Even just chatted a little about mundane topics. (Have you ever tried playing soccer? Yeah, me neither. Do you have a favorite season? Time of day? Mine is Autumn if you were wondering; it’s a time of change. I like twilight for the same reason, the bridge between day and night.)

He was almost a friend by that point, for all that she didn’t know his name.

---

And, as if summoned by her thoughts (well, he probably was actually), he appeared beside her, walking in step with her as if he had been there all along.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t you get bored using your powers all the time?”

A minuscule crease appeared between his eyebrows. (Another success she took credit for. He used to be waaaaaay worse at emoting, if one could believe it.) “What else would I use?”

“Gee, you have hands, don’t you?” He actually looked down at them for a split second as if he had forgotten. “And you’re walking beside me right now. When you appear as a human does, sometimes it’s satisfying to accomplish things as they do.”

“Slowly?” He asked, sounding a bit incredulous and disdainful. (More progress! ...Kinda).

“No,” she scolded. “Purposefully.”

He still looked doubtful, but he did walk up to her more often after that. Got up and handed things to her when she asked, rather than just teleporting or conjuring them. Mentioned offhandedly, that his name was Klaus, the next time they met.

She didn’t think that one day she would come to regret her advice.

---

One Week Ago

Caroline looked around, feeling lost. Not the confused kind of lost, but the lost one feels when the beliefs they once held were challenged, broken.

He left her there. 

---

This time attackers had slipped by her guardian angel (a hysterical sob caught in her throat), but they hadn’t been able to do much of anything to her. Klaus had appeared with a rustle of feathers, ripping the hearts from the two remaining attackers. 

And then he had spotted the bodies already strewn across the floor. They could have been sleeping if not for their vacant stares and still hearts.

God, the way he had looked at her.

Caroline had never personally known heartbreak until that moment.

She had watched as he stalked toward her, gripping her upper arms in his still blood soaked hands.

“What have you done?” He had whispered to her, looking more horrified than she had ever seen. He had shaken her then. “What have you done?!” A shout. She had never heard him shout before. And she hadn’t understood his reaction.

“I-I was never surprised by your abilities. Surely, you knew I had my own?”

“Of course I did!” He had hissed. “But you were never supposed to use them!”

She hadn’t understood. Her voice was small as she had asked him, “Why? You do?”

“I am not like you. You are a cambion, Caroline, a threat. It has always been my duty to contain you. By God, I should smite you where you stand for this.”

A tear had slipped from her eye. “Then why did you-?” Her hand had made an aborted gesture toward the men he had killed, thought about all the years he had spent warning her.

And she had watched as he seemed to deflate and then stepped back from her.

Another crack in her heart.

“If no one attacked you, then what need would you have for your powers?” He had stared at her almost seeming sad as he said, “You were so human.” And then his expression had hardened. “Stay home for the next few days while I take care of the source. Do nothing.” And then he had vanished with another fluttering sound.

---

He left her.

The thought raddled around in her brain, and the contained sob emerged from her throat.

She sat there, in a room of dead and broken people, and cried until she had no tears left.

And then she went home.

Slowly.

---

And now here Klaus was again. Looking at her like he didn’t know her at all. (She supposed she hadn’t know him then either, had she?) Despite her facade she was breaking all over again. She didn’t think she could lose him twice.

And then, he looked away, making the most human gesture she had ever seen from him. His palm dragged down his face, a face that actually appeared tired now that she looked closer.

He looked back at her, reaching for her, hesitant. Finally, he took her hand in his and delicately rubbed the skin over her knuckles.

“You have made me a rash creature, Caroline. I was...afraid,” he uttered, sounding awed. The original meaning of the word. “But I should not have spoken to you like that. Nor left you there. For all my bravado I could not have killed you.” He shook his head. “I do not think I could have from the moment your eight-year-old self took my arm and taught me what it meant to be human.”

“What are you saying?” She whispered, a dangerous kernel of hope blossoming in her heart.

The full force of his gaze returned to her eyes, but there was no disgust or horror there.

“I am saying I want you to come with me. Not forever. Not unless you wish to,” he added in a whisper before continuing, voice firm and determined once more. “I know that no matter your powers you are not the type of threat the Host fears. But others will not. Do not. If you are with me though I can vouch for you. My name holds weight, Caroline. You could live a normal life eventually.”

A tear slipped down her face, but she was smiling. 

“You are part of my life now. So don’t you dare leave again.”

He laced his fingers with hers, used his other hand to cup her cheek and brush away her tear.

“Deal.”

---

Author’s Note: Today’s title is the beginning of two different Jewish proverbs/sayings: “Who is wise?” and “Who is mighty?” respectively. The full sayings are “Who is wise? He who learns from all people” and “Who is mighty? He who subdues his passions”. The irony of course being that Klaus typically embodies neither of those things. And even here, it’s pretty debatable. Also, I know at least @thetourguidebarbie is Jewish and would know this better than me so correct me if I’m wrong here. I just went off the internet.