The world seemed to narrow down on her. She needed to breathe . Just breathe for a moment. Stumbling over thin air, clutching her kurta Khushi reached her room.
The room was beautifully bathed in moonlight tonight. Her favourite window lay within an arch. The architecture was old fashioned as her friends had teased. But she didn't care. After all none of her friends could boast of the moon greeting them at their bedroom window in such a way.
Her heart wailed as the beauty failed to impress or comfort her. Nothing could assuage her tension tonight.
It all began earlier that evening, when buaji decided to drop the bomb on her unsuspecting self.
——
“Khushi bitiya, I am not in the position to take care of you alone now. Fufaji’s pension is barely enough for us. Ever since Payal got married, things have changed. We can’t really accept her offer of money anymore ! What will people say!”
“Buaji! What are you-? I am going to graduate in a few months. I’ll get a job in any media company in the country. Please stop being so regressive!”
Buaji had frowned, completely crossed with her now highly educated niece. Wielding her ability to cry in a wink, she whined,
“God has taken away my two brothers too soon! I raised both you girls alone! Payal’s mother was respectable and so she got married into the Malik family. But your parents? They had you out of wedlock! The whole of Lucknow society knows! And now no family of good repute will marry their son to my poor bitiya!”
Khushi rolled her eyes. These dramatics had happened too often. Buaji was from a generation of “name”, “reputation “ and “respectability “. How could she explain to her sweet aunt that she never really cared for such things.
“Buaji please. Marriage doesn’t interest me-“
“Just like your shameless parents!” Buaji gasped.
“No, I mean men buaji. I am just not interested in getting into the whole marriage scene. I will happily be a spinster for the rest of my life. We won’t need to worry about money once I start working.”
“How long will you live with me? Marriage is a non-negotiable bitiya! Who will take care of you after I have gone?”
“Old age homes! Do you know buaji, some senior citizens now self check into such centres? Luxurious ones, where I’ll spend my last days in peace?”
Khushi gleefully smiled, her eyes dreamy.
Buaji sat there spluttering, her head resting on her arm.
“This girl! Nothing will help her see sense! Manorama ji was right, Mr Raizada is the one for her..yes, that’s it”
Khushi sat up straight, not believing her ears.
“Mr-Mr who?”
“Mr Arnav Raizada. You know the one we met at Payal’s wedding. Very quiet type but very rich. He owns AR News. So wealthy, so respectable. Akash’s father was worried about him. I mean he is thirty six and yet he hasn’t settled down. There were some talks of his wedding a while back but….alas! Now, Manorama ji called me this morning, for you of course.”
“Wh-what?! He’s thirty six and I am twenty one! Do you even realise that?”
Even if Khushi tried to guilt her buaji for trying to set her young niece up with an older man, she couldn’t deny that she had noticed him during the wedding. A girl would have to be blind to not notice that man! Actually not even a blind girl could be immune to his perfume.
What was it exactly, she couldn’t tell. Oud? Bergamot? Dark chocolate?
Whatever! That man was too perfect. He had worn a matte black sherwani. Skipping all other events, he had landed up at the reception. The dim lights hadn’t done his profile justice. Broad shoulders, a physique James Bond would have possessed if he was real and eyes which felt deeper, darker than any man should possess.
Of course, she had been just a speck on the wall for him. But what really surprised her was that other girls didn’t seem to notice him. She did spy an occasional older woman go up to him and place their manicured hands over his arm or his shoulder like a claw, but no one around her saw the appeal at first.
Preeto had just shrugged, calling him “well dressed”, while her sister just smiled, calling him “a mysterious man, an enigma”.
“The Raizadas are rumoured to be all like that Khushi. Akash said the Malik family is an open book compared to them”, Payal had carelessly remarked while donning a pair of beautiful rubies. Another magnificent gift by her wealthy fiancé.
———
Now with Mr Raizada’s proposal propelling buaji into a mission, Khushi wished he had been an enigma enough to never even attend the reception.
Her sister’s mother in law was now a pain in her behind. How could she think a young promising journalist like her would be happy being married to a man more than a decade older than her, not to forget much wealthier. Heck! He was a billionaire!
The idea of being a trophy wife was absolutely abhorrent to her! She knew Lucknow high society. Having observed it well enough from the borders, she knew that the Maliks and Raizadas were patriarchal enough to want heirs.
She cringed at the concept, and that helped her to make up her mind. Even if she lived the rest of her life in poverty, she won’t be succumbing to this trap called ‘marriage’ to a wealthy, powerful Raizada.
Smut: During the Diwali with Aarav, Arnav triggers a fight with Khushi about the money issue and a power struggle ensues - IN BED. #angrysex #blatantrequest
[Part 1]
See Red
To fall into a state of extreme anger, excitement, or competitive arousal, such as might cloud one’s judgement or senses.
“What other things have you observed? Apart from the fact that I wear a lock around my heart, or that I should be married to my office - which I can’t because I happened to be married to you - or I’m an arrogant, ignorant prick-” The last words died as Khushi grabbed his face and captured his moving lips with her soft ones.
In a second his breath, control and heart knocked right off his body.
She threaded her finger through his hair, holding fistfuls of it. Arnav’s hands immediately left the wall and wrapped around her frame, squeezing her hips as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
Just as he grabbed her thigh, she bit his lower lip.
Hey jalebi, what would arnav do if khushi haven't given into his threats and not married him and believed in her gut that akash wouldn't leave payal? What ways would arnav come up with to tie her to himself? This changes the entire plot line but I wanna know your thoughts on this 😅
Hi Anon,
You’re right, this would change the whole plot and Arnav was very convincing. The writing is so water tight that there’s no way that Khushi wouldn’t have agreed to him. There’s no believing her gut because Akash will leave Payal, even if heartbroken by it, if Arnav says so because Akash always believes his brother 💯.
BUT YOU HAVE GIVEN ME A FANFIC IDEA SO HERE IT IS!
What if Khushi refused the ultimatum?
From a tragic point of view, Khushi is more likely to believe that Arnav wouldn’t do this to her, she knows what love they share, she wouldn’t be able to believe he’d cross all these lines. She would perhaps think more from her heart. She loves this man. Intensely.
But Arnav would pull it off. Because the hurt he has is immense. Because this is his only leverage to Khushi. And despite his good judgement he’d cancel the wedding.
And despite much chaos and uproar and Akash choosing to side with his brother (I think Arnav would privately tell him the truth which Akash, despite his own judgement, would agree with Arnav because his brother is never wrong), the wedding would be off leading to Nani’s ill health and Buaji and Garima collapsing.
I believe Payal would unfortunately try to kill herself, unable to take the trauma and that would shock Arnav and the rest of the Raizadas to now demand answers.
Khushi would go ballistic on Arnav and essentially become another Arnav Singh Raizada with having her sister in coma and family destroyed over his decision.
And imagine, just imagine the shock to know it was all over a misunderstanding! She would vow to never forgive him and burn all his gifts and everything that reminds her of him. Anjali would be completely destroyed but seeing Payal would remind her of herself and she’d chose to separate with Shyam (especially with all the suspicions she was having over time).
Arnav would rot in guilt. He gave her the same trauma he had. NK would agree that nope, his cousin wasn’t in love with Khushi, because love cannot be this.
Akash would just become a stone.
The Guptas would all head to Lucknow with a comatose Payal. Akash would come over to face severe rejection but he would be there to marry Payal, to be with her. The doctors say she might not wake up ever but Akash would happily spend his life looking at Payal sleeping.
That’s what the vows were about anyway?
Khushi seriously takes up the business and gives her all. Payal gets conscious and Akash patiently helps her heal. Khushi’s business starts booming and one day the Raizadas come over to ask for Payal’s hand. They promise to treat her like a queen.
Khushi is enraged and would outrightly refuse it! Arnav comes in front, asking for his brother and her sister’s happiness but Khushi wouldnt agree. Rather yell at him for his hypocrisy.
Arnav starts negotiating with Khushi for the marriage to happen. Anything. Khushi refuses all of them. Arnav asks her about Payal’s medical treatment, Khushi retorts that he would only help once she’s a bahu?
Arnav rages at that accusation and Khushi scoffs at his attempt at empathy. Arnav calms down and tells her her anger is valid, and so is her hatred. But it’s ultimately about Payal’s life.
Khushi storms away and realizes her family has been taking the healthcare expenses from the Raizadas. She feels insulted and angry and refuses to speak to any of her family despite knowing it has actually benefited Payal.
Payal, on the other hand, is getting slow with her recovery and gets upset on akash for sticking up with her when she doesn’t want to stay in this state but he lets her be, letting all her anger out until she cries and holds onto him, the guilt of burdening Khushi with everything on her head.
Khushi soothes Payal when Payal wishes she should’ve died instead of becoming a burden Khushi but Khushi shuts her up by stating that if she died then there’s nothing Khushi has to live for.
Khushi reluctantly agrees for the wedding but gets upset when her family hopes for hers - she lashes out at them to the point where she crosses all the lines and then feels guilty for having done so. Arnav finds her at the edge of the road and fears the worst, pulls her away from a speeding car and yells at her out of concern. However it’s clear that she wasn’t paying attention and not attempting self harm.
Khushi, hesitantly, shares what transpired at her home and Arnav hesitantly consoles her by stating that there’s no fun in being an Arnav Singh Raizada.
Her anger, her hatred, everything should be directed to him. They have a fighting match where essentially Arnav’s pain of Khushi hiding the truth and Khushi’s pain of Arnav not even asking her clarification hits. Ultimately Khushi yells that she cannot hate him, she cannot be angry at him because- and she cuts off, and runs away back home where Akash has consoled the family and patches up Khushi with her family.
The wedding begins and Anjali is uncharacteristically quiet, apologetic and slightly frightened. She promises her brother and Khushi only happiness in the world. Meanwhile Khushi makes it clear that she’s doing this for Payal’s happiness and she may never find it in her to forgive him and Arnav agrees that there’s something similar in them - he may never find it in him to forgive himself either.
With the wedding sparks fly between Arshi with them exchanging banters and wits. They come closer and Khushi finds herself falling again when it is revealed Shyam has been blackmailing Anjali for money in exchange for peace in her family.
Arnav and Khushi team up to get rid of Shyam and both regret the fact that neither of them punished the one man who was responsible for everything.
Much to the families’ happiness Akash finally weds Payal much to everyone’s happiness.
The family concoct ways to bring arshi clpser. It’s hilarious because all the plans backfire. Finally accidentally Khushi thinks Arnav’s life is endangered and she runs over to him about thinking of life’s cruelty at her to keep seeing the ones she love in danger.
Khushi tells Arnav she loves him and accuses him of being careless and not loving her back and Arnav gets angry because he loves her and she doesn’t love him back and they yell back and forth until they realize they confessed and well - that leads to another wedding and a happily ever after!
“Hi,” Khushi smiled as Arnav greeted her even before she entered their room. A couple of years ago she had decided to test their connection, determined to disprove NK’s ‘he surely cannot sense you everytime!’ She first removed her payals, then her sandals, she kept away her favourite jasmine perfume - anything that could have indicated Khushi’s presence. Once she even walked right behind NK to keep her shadow at bay.
And every single time Arnav wished a ‘Hi’ five feet before she stepped in the room.
NK obviously left with the upper hand by stating that Arnav could sense Khushi before she could step in, but not state ‘I love you’ till it was late until their elopement. Of course NK was met with a flying rolled magazine from Arnav’s end and Khushi realised apart from Arnav instinctively knowing where Khushi was, he also was great at throwing stuff from a distance without looking.
This was written for Klaroline Fanfic Week @klarolinefanficweek; Week 3 [April 13-April 19, 2025] – Crime. Note that this is canonish related to TVD Season 3, Episode 3.
As a witch on the run, Caroline thought hiding out in a speakeasy in Chicago would be the perfect escape. She couldn’t have guessed there was an even bigger threat than the Ripper of Monterey also hiding out there...
A Little Spark
“I don't want to repeat my innocence. I want the pleasure of losing it again.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald, This Side of Paradise
Chicago was a long way from Mystic Falls. But maybe not far enough, Caroline thought with a grimace as she watched Gloria light a sage bundle with little more than an impatient twitch of her eyelid as she carried on a hushed conversation in a shadowy corner. Caroline may have been a young witch with only a paltry burst of power to draw from, but she knew that spell. And the juice coming off of her sharp-tongued boss had her rethinking this speakeasy was the best place to hide from her troubles. It was shameful how she’d forgotten the harsh lessons of Mystic Falls and had failed to see what was in front of her. Never trust another witch.
At least back home, she knew all the so-called “friends” and traitorous relatives that wanted to burn the witch out of her. Chicago appeared to be brimming with more enemies than she realized. Even the dark threat of the serial killer stalking Chicago’s streets didn’t fill her with the blind panic she now felt. Caroline had learned the hard way that witches led to vampires or werewolves and chaos and death always followed in their wake.
She straightened the black fringe on her dress and picked up another serving tray, determined to finish out her shift and earn as many tips as she could before catching a train far away from here. But she’d wait until morning when it would feel safer — the newspapers kept reporting that the serial killer — whom they kept pushing the wild rumor it was really the Ripper of Monterey — only attacked women at night. And then bizarrely reassembled their torn-apart bodies. Or perhaps not. Was it possible this was the work of a vampire?
Caroline sighed, heat rising in her cheeks at her foolishness. It was naïve of her to think that the supernatural wouldn’t flock to big cities just as easily as a frightened witch would. She squeezed through the wild crowd of drunken revelry, a sadness creeping in as she realized how much she’d miss Chicago despite these unsavory revelations.
It was a vibrant place, seemingly untouched by the oppressive government sanctions — if you knew where to look. Gloria’s had seemed like the perfect escape with its underground, seductive appeal. The live jazz every night accompanied by Gloria’s rich, gravelly notes along with the finest bootlegged liquor in three states drew in all the right people who wanted an escape.
Caroline carefully held onto her smile as she handed out side cars, gin rickeys and high balls. Warring mafia families all vied for control of the liquor racket, so it was best not to be too standoffish or too flirtatious because one never knew when they’d send in their boys to sniff around the bar to get the lay of the land. Like those three lounging about the VIP booth near the back — they clearly were affiliated with one of those deadly mob families.
The blonde, Rebekah, carried herself in a regal, elegant manner that Caroline envied. Except when Stefan, the guy with the carefully styled hair came around — then she became wild and flirty, holding him possessively close as they danced and drank. A dangerous pair, her instincts told her. The too-knowing glances and the casual displays of dominance whispered to her they were mobbed up.
A throaty chuckle drew her attention as it always did and she eagerly drank in the sight of him in his tailored white shirt and black silk vest and bowtie. Speaking of dangerous. She’d overheard Gloria greet him as ‘Klaus’ once, but had wisely prevented either of them from noticing her interest. Klaus was lovely to look at, but Caroline had no desire to become a gangster’s moll.
Power practically hummed at that back table, and she wisely ducked her head and busied herself with serving drinks, flashing just enough of her shapely legs to rake in a pretty bit of coin. Coupled with what she had shoved in the hollow bedpost of her tiny apartment, she might be able to make it all the way to Denver. It was a hopeful thought that stayed with her throughout the night, warming her right down to her toes, which is the only excuse she had for getting sloppy.
One of the other servers was out of gin, and Caroline offered to make the trip to the cellar through the camouflaged door in a false wall. It was a run she’d made numerous times without incident, but now several barrels blocked her usual pathway, which meant she had no choice but to squeeze past that VIP table. Where her eyes often strayed but she never wandered too close. Until now.
She could overhear Klaus telling Stefan that he’d killed most of his family, but not his sister, Rebekah, because she’d chosen his side. She knew it. They were part of the underworld scene. Mobsters, the lot of them. Just a few more careful steps and she’d be clear of their table. Now Klaus was asking Stefan to justify how he was worthy of Rebekah. Definitely mobsters.
Stefan called over one of the dancers, his voice a curious, flat monotone that was out of character with his normally arrogant tone. The dancer stumbled toward their booth with jerky, wooden movements. Even before Stefan took a knife to the poor girl’s wrist and bled her into a highball glass, Caroline finally understood what was going on. Vampire. Did this mean Klaus and Rebekah were vampires too?
Caroline held the serving tray aloft, carefully positioning the empty green and amber bottles to block her from their table as she finally slipped past them. She fought to keep her body from tensing as she overheard Stefan compel another man to drink the blood in the glass. Vicious, dangerous creature. Blue eyes widened as she realized Stefan could be the serial killer. Chicago was probably a prime hunting ground for monsters.
She let out a grateful sigh as the false wall covered in the gaudy bird and branches motif wallpaper closed behind her. The familiar brick stairs were somehow comforting as she made her way down to the hidden cellar. Carefully positioning one of the empty bottles underneath the row of barrels, she turned on the copper spigot. Refill these bottles, leave them for the server, and then spend the rest of the night down here taking inventory.
Gloria would appreciate the extra help and Caroline wanted the added safety measure as she definitely didn’t want to risk going back to her apartment in the dark. Vampires roaming the streets. Serial killer vampires. She’d just finished filling the last bottle when she heard a harsh scrape of wood against brick. Someone had opened the false door.
Panicked, she let loose the tiny bit of power she always kept close to the surface, feeling the flames before they flared across her palms.
“Impressive, love.”
Her pulse raced as Klaus suddenly appeared before her, studying her with a dimpled smirk. “Well, since you showed me yours,” he teased, black veins crawling underneath his eyes as he unsheathed long, curved fangs.
Vampire. Just as she feared.
“What do you want,” Caroline asked flatly, fingers curling around the long neck of a brown bottle. She knew it wouldn’t do any good, but the heft in her trembling hand was a small comfort nonetheless.
He nodded toward her makeshift weapon with an amused chuckle. “Let’s not be hasty, love. I mean you no harm. In fact, you captured my interest from the moment Gloria hired you.”
Impossible. She would’ve noticed a creature like Klaus noticing her. Except her power was puny — everyone back home had said so, which meant she couldn’t always sense dark creatures. Unable to stop the disdainful scoff that escaped, she said “I’m fairly certain capturing your interest is the last thing I want to do.”
He boldly toyed with the black fringe that brushed the top of her shoulder. “Then what is it that you do want? There’s such rage in that tiny frame. Even as you kept your head down and feigned meekness at every turn, you can’t hide that fierce gaze. Why, I’m certain if you had fangs, you’d gash them at every human that vexed you!”
Even in his monster’s visage, he had dimples. How could she still find him attractive? She hated the flicker of lust that surged through her at his bold advances. And from the low rumbling in his chest, Caroline was certain he could sense her fear…and excitement. Smug bastard.
“I want to be safe. Finally, truly safe,” she blurted out, secretly pleased with how her words seemed to momentarily stun Klaus.
The fingers that had been playing with the fringe on her shoulder stilled and he studied her with growing interest. “I can give that to you, sweetheart. All you have to do is ask.” Glancing at the small flames still stubbornly dancing on Caroline’s palms, Klaus added with a smirk, “Or, I could show you how to nurture that power until you can secure your own safety. You’d be surprised by what a little spark can do.”
This was written for Klaroline Fanfic Week @klarolinefanficweek; Week 4 [April 20-April 26, 2025] – Science fiction. In order to triumph over Klaus, Caroline’s friends used the Ascendant to create a prison world and then trapped him there — along with Caroline.
Warning: Angst
“Losing your way on a journey is unfortunate. But, losing your reason for the journey is a fate more cruel.”
— H.G. Wells
Closed Door
Because Caroline had been gaping in wide-eyed wonder at the sparkling sea beyond the cliff, she didn’t realize Klaus was behind her until his claws were digging into her throat. “You did this,” he roared, black veins crawling underneath his furious gaze as he displayed his double set of hybrid fangs. “You conspired with those imbecilic friends of yours to banish me to this wretched nightmare!”
Terrified, she uselessly struggled in his grasp, nails biting into his flesh until they wept blood. “Klaus, what’s going on,” she finally gasped out, her vision swimming with tears as he violently tossed her to the cobblestones. Cobblestones. Where the fuck had Bonnie sent them that there were cobblestone streets overlooking...which ocean was this? It didn’t look like the Pacific or Atlantic and she’d never been anywhere else. There were wooden carts parked outside a tiny house with a thatched roof. It was like...oh shit. Momentarily forgetting Klaus’ rage, she asked irritably, “Did Bonnie fucking banish us to like Mediterranean Colonial Williamsburg or something?”
Klaus looked at her in bafflement, letting out a bark of laughter as he raked his fingers through his messy curls. “I’m fairly certain the Bennett witch used the Ascendant to banish us to 1114 Italy.” Eyeing the people milling about chattering in a language Caroline didn’t recognize, he explained, “The mystical relic creates a prison dimension to punish those that witches deem too dangerous to exist on the mortal plane.”
She hesitantly looked around, but didn’t bother doing more than sitting up in the cobblestone street where Klaus had thrown her. “So, this isn’t real?”
Something about the hopefulness of her tone seemed to set him off again. “Oh, it’s real enough, sweetheart. Your friends shoved us into this prison dimension, closed the door and melted the blasted key! We’re bloody fucking fucked and it’s your fault! You served as a distraction yet again, because I’m your tamed beast — nothing more than a circus animal you lead about for your amusement!”
She gaped at him, still dizzy from the portal. She fuzzily remembered Elena inviting her over to Bonnie’s and they had convinced her to help with the window box planters. She should’ve been suspicious — her friends would rather do trig homework than any yard work. Then the Salvatores had flashed into the backyard and Damon had grabbed her. And then Klaus had appeared...
With a small gasp, she realized, “You were there to rescue me. It must’ve been another one of Damon’s idiotic plans.” Shaking her head, she drew her knees up to her chin, staring listlessly as the artful rips in her jeans. “I wasn’t helping my friends this time. They tricked me too. Obviously, they didn’t care what happened to me since I’m stuck here with you.” She had no one. At least before she could pretend she had people who cared about her. But never again.
She could feel his hesitation, but the fury and suspicion still rolled off of him in waves. She braced herself for vicious fangs and an incurable bite that would kill her in the slowest, most painful way possible. Instead, the scrape of his boots on the worn cobblestones told her he flashed away.
_____________________________
At some point, Caroline peeled herself off the cobblestones, frowning as she realized not one person had stopped to ask if she was okay. Stressed and terrified, she gave into her monster and let it come to the surface. She hissed and flashed her fangs at a group of farmers hauling burlap sacks of grain. She swiped at them, desperate to touch, but instead her hands went through them as if they were ghosts. There wasn’t a single reaction — no screams, no peasants running after her with pitchforks and torches — nothing. She stomped her feet and waved her arms at some chickens and a goat being herded into a paddock — and still nothing.
That’s when she realized what it meant to be banished to this prison world. She and Klaus were alone here. They couldn’t interact with the villagers or animals and that meant they couldn’t eat. Her friends had sentenced her to desiccation. She’d known they were desperate to get rid of Klaus, but to sacrifice her to do it? A pained sob escaped as she flashed down the narrow cobblestone streets. She was alone.
No sooner had that depressing thought crossed her mind then she practically tumbled right over a pair of legs propped up on the base of a stone statue. Klaus. She whirled around with a gasp, hastily swiping at her cheeks. To distract herself, she studied the Italian villa before them, the rough-hewn stonework demonstrating an artistry she’d ever seen before. It was humbling to be reminded of how little she’d seen of the world growing up in a small town. And now she’d never see any of it again.
“What is it?”
The softness of his tone surprised her. “Besides everything,” she asked flippantly. Not quite ready to tell him what she’d discovered, she asked instead, “Why Italy in 1114? It’s too precise of a year to be random. Why did my fr— they use the Ascendant to send us to this place?” She grimaced as she nearly called them her friends. They weren’t her friends. Not anymore. Maybe they never had been.
Klaus angrily jabbed at the base of the statue with his boot, the sculpture of what appeared to be a Greek goddess wobbled slightly. “I suspect the Mystic Falls gang wanted to inflict as much pain upon me as possible. Likely those wretched spirits that speak to the Bennett witch told her everything she needed to know about this dark time in my life.”
Staring down at his hands until they trembled, he revealed, “In this remote Italian village in 1114, I slaughtered five vampire hunters who tried to kill me and my family. I suffered the Hunter’s Curse for my actions, haunted by hallucinations that tried to convince me to kill myself. My siblings took me to this villa and locked me inside while they tried to save me.”
The bitterness and sorrow that laced Klaus’ voice made Caroline turn away once more. Morbid curiosity forced her to ask, “How long did the hallucinations last?”
“52 years, four months, and nine days.”
She found herself collapsing next to him on the hard ground, a wounded-animal squeak leaving her lips. “Jesus fuck.”
“You’ve certainly captured the scope of the tragedy,” he commented mildly. He tilted his curly head, gray eyes studying her intently. “You didn’t know what your friends had planned.”
“They’re not my friends,” Caroline instinctively snarled. At Klaus’ quizzical eyebrow, she realized he was waiting on her answer to his question. With an aggravated sigh, she said, “No.”
“No,” he agreed with an almost companionable nod. Steel flashed in his gaze as he asked, “But had you known, you would’ve sacrificed yourself for their plan.”
She could feel the weight of his question and what it cost him to ask it. But what would it cost her to answer it? Lips twisted down into a grimace, she sighed, hating her helpless tone. “Yes.”
Klaus let out an unexpected chuckle. “And you wonder why I’m draw to you. Do you know how many creatures would lie and tell me what I wanted to hear out of cowardice or self-preservation?”
She shrugged, her cheeks heating at his words. To distract herself, she grabbed a handful of sharp pebbles and tossed them one by one into the shallow puddles scattered around the stone garden wall. “It depends. If you’ve terrified them, then sure, they’ll tell you all sorts of lies to keep their heads and hearts right where they are. But if you’ve pissed them off enough, they’d go out of their way to tell you the meanest truths they can think of just out of spite.”
He nudged her leg with his boot, an unexpected playfulness to Klaus’ gaze as he proclaimed, “You’re still in your infancy and yet so insightful. Not to mention that utter fearlessness you wield like a blunt instrument every time we’re together. Even now, you must be just as unsettled as I in this confounding situation, but the face you show is resolute. Determined. You’re extraordinary, sweetheart.”
Why did Klaus have to be so Klaus? He was a bloodthirsty, violent megalomaniac who could kill her a thousand different ways the second his mood shifted. But then he’d stare at her like that and say all the right things...
As a pair of laughing women walked by carrying woven baskets of linens, Caroline was reminded of their immediate concern. Taking a breath, she asked hesitantly, “Have you tried to feed yet?”
Gray eyes sharply assessed her before Klaus rose to his feet, once more an imposing figure against the backdrop of the villa. “No. What is it,” he asked, gaze quickly sweeping their surroundings as though to spot the danger before she could reveal it.
“There’s nothing to eat here,” she blurted out, the horror of it all making her throat scratchy with unshed tears. She slapped the stone ground with enough force that it cracked. “We can touch everything here except anything that would help us survive. No people, no animals, nothing. We’re going to desiccate and eventually we’ll die.”
Klaus flashed over to her and pulled her up into his into his arms without hesitation, cradling her with such gentleness she began to cry. “Shh sweetheart, we’ll find a way.” He boldly caressed her cheek, hybrid gold flashing in his gaze as he swore, “And then we’ll make everyone who tried to trap us pay.” He kissed her with an urgency she felt all the way down to her toes.
When they finally broke apart, Caroline was surprised to see a knowing smile on his face. At her confusion, he explained, “Did you know that the Ascendant can be used to harness the power of a celestial event to create a portal within a prison dimension?”
“No?” Where was he going with this?
“Well, I suspect the dimwits who put us here didn’t know that either.” He smirked, dimples prominently on display as he whispered playfully, “And I bet they also didn’t know that there’s going to be an eclipse in less than a month.”
They could walk right out of their prison with the right know-how and ingredients. And from the way Klaus was grinning, it was clear he had both. But even less than a month still was too long — at least for her. All that would be left of her would be leathery skin and brittle bones.
As though he understood her dark thoughts, Klaus playfully nipped at her jaw, sending a pleasurable shiver down her spine. “We’ll feed from each other and our immortal bodies will replenish the blood.”
He made it sound so easy. Caroline was sure there were things Klaus was keeping from her, but if it was a choice between a slow, agonizing death or blood-sharing with her inconveniently hot enemy, her itching fangs already were telling her everything she needed to know.
An air of melancholy seeped into the air of the Raizada mansion. In a few minutes their pillar of joy, Anjali, had crumbled into a sobbing mess. Her marriage, belief, love and trust had been tested.
And joy’s namesake, Khushi, wandered in the halls in the lonely night - hoping to find solace.
The revelation had gone terribly wrong. Anjali’s fragile mind and body had been unable to cope with the truths she had been gaslighted against. Khushi had learnt, in the worst way possible, that intentions had no place nor merit against consequences.
Khushi leaned against the door to Nani’s bedroom, her legs heavy and head throbbing from the recent events.
Payal Gupta was gifted with foresight. One that allowed her to accept her father’s new wife like her mother. One that pushed her to partner with her sister in every decision she took, no matter how opposite it was Payal’s sensibilities, as a reminder to her sister that she was her own and by her side forever.
One that knew that she liked the younger, soft-spoken, spectacled Akash Singh Raizada too much for her good. One that decided to decline Akash’s proposal, despite desperately wanting to do the opposite.
One that realized that the older Raizada was an absolute ass to her sister and had no business giving Payal Akash’s suicide letter, which was read out by Khushi who seemed all too aware of what vocal pitch and emotion Akash might have written that letter with.
“Is he an idiot?” Payal shrieked, grabbing the letter as tears marred her vision.
Arnav grumbled as Khushi jumped at her sister’s tears, “I saw him going to Scandal point and I put two and two together if anything happens to him-”
“Are you an idiot?” Payal snapped.
“What the f-”
“If you knew where he’s going, why didn’t you stop him? What kind of a brother are you?”
Madaari - Puppeteer. Trickster. Magician. Conjurer. A street performer who entertains the public by training (torturing) animals to dance.
Trigger Warning: none | Word Count: 2400+
Read Chapter 1
#Chapter 2
Shyam watched the Gupta family fret over Khushi. It was Devi Maiyya’s sign, he had to do away with Khushi Gupta and her family as soon as possible. The strings were too messy, and what if her memory recovered?
He smiled at the paralyzed Shashi Gupta - so much for playing hero for his daughter. Shashi grumbled, tears and rage filling the old eyes but Shyam could only hide a laugh as Garima had to tend to wipe the drool away from Shashi’s face.
That man was never going to be fine, Shyam made sure of it.
The medicines they diligently fed Shashi were his path to a slow, natural, death.
After all he was Khushi’s father, he couldn’t condemn him to a painful death.
Khushi’s heart hurt more than her head. A sharp pain. Arnav was here.
She woke up, looking around, barely remembering the ride to her home. Shyam had assisted her to her room, tucking her neatly and explaining the situation to her family.
She slept even before she knew it.
“He’s not here.” Khushi stiffened as Payal sat next to her, a fresh bandaid and antiseptic bottle in her hand.
“Woh Jiji, I was looking for-” Payal shot Khushi a look, and for the grace of her sister she did not mention the name of the man Khushi was clearly looking for.
For someone who had read Khushi since childhood, Payal Gupta found it no mystery who was the love of her darling sister’s life.
It was definitely not Khushi’s fiancé.
How had Khushi fallen for Arnav, it was beyond her. But Payal had said nothing, fearing that speaking about Khushi’s infatuation with Arnav would flame the fire Khushi’s heart.
So she feigned ignorance.
The rest of the family barely paid heed to Khushi anyway, they never saw her spending hours learning sugar free sweets in the kitchen. They never heard her whisper words in English to herself. They never realized how Khushi inserted Arnav Singh Raizada in every conversation.
“If he cared, he would’ve been here,” Payal emphasized, blowing at the injury on Khushi’s head. Khushi turned away in shame, her secret caught in the open.
She flinched at the sting of the antiseptic.
“He’s engaged.” Payal now whispered, afraid that the Goddess might punish her sister for a mistake her young heart made.
“It’s nothing like that,” Khushi denied the unsaid accusation. Payal could only smile sadly.
“You will be perceived as the other woman, regardless of context,” Payal advised, fixing the bandaid on Khushi's forehead.
“It’s nothing like that,” Khushi repeated, clenching her blanket.
“Khushi, one mistake cannot fix another.” Payal sighed. Her sister truly had the worst luck. Her options were either a doomed romance or a doomed marriage.
A tear rolled down Khushi’s cheek. She loved Arnav. It was a fact that she understood at her worst. He, his feelings, meant the world for her. She had to tell everything to Payal.
For once, Khushi did not want to hold all the burdens in her heart. God knows Khushi needed Payal’s guidance and help now more than ever.
“Jiji” Khushi froze as she saw the reflection on the window in front of her.
Payal didn’t have to look up to know who had been standing all along.
Arnav Singh Raizada
— — —
Lavanya watched Arnav return home, face crumpled in anguish. When she had returned from visiting Khushi earlier in the day, she thought the anguish on her face was a result of the accident.
But with the similar pain on Arnav’s face, she realized physical pain had little strength to heartache.
Her engagement was over before it even began.
It’s ironic that the closer she got to Arnav in societal recognition, the farther away he grew from her.
“Everything will be fine,” Arnav stopped short in his tracks, staring at Lavanya intertwine her hand with his, compassion on her face.
Will everything ever be fine? His world fell beneath his feet when he learned from Akash that Khushi was involved in an accident, and from the conversation between Payal and Khushi, his worst and best dreams came true.
He must be sadistic to feel relief that Khushi was just as miserable in her engagement as he.
The relief was just as strong as finding her safe and healthy.
And to be honest, he was glad her fiancé was not around when he stopped by. He could hardly be trusted these days.
Arnav looked at his own fiancee, and guilt settled in his heart. It was never about Lavanya, was it?
One look at Khushi in her bed, wounded, and he realized that this was the only woman he’d ever feel so intensely for, regardless of the context. So what was he promising Lavanya?
The life his mother lived?
“La,” Lavanya teared up as Arnav took her name far more affectionately than he had over the past few months. She savored and feared as he gently cupped her face, a flicker of tears in his own eyes as well.
Arnav felt a lump in his throat. It was a pity to realize he had been surrounded by the best of women despite being a terrible man.
There was a time where if asked who he could’ve spent a lifetime with, it would be Lavanya Kashyap.
“Arnav, please don’t,” Lavanya whispered. Let Arnav be guilty enough to at least give her a few days of affection before the doom she anticipated. For once he became the ASR she knew.
The one who took her to dates to the fanciest of restaurants, booking the cozy booths where he’d hear her endless frustrations of the press and terrible fashion trends with a barely there smile.
The one who grumbled at every gift she gave him, but had them delicately stored in some corner of his office - be it a paper weight or a Mont Blanc pen. The one who’d often stop by her place for a cup of coffee and an hour of silence as they heard Jazz. The one who’d indulge her when she’d drag to him to dance with her in her quiet apartment, the radio fading as she’d undo his tie while he pulled down the zipper of her dress.
“I am so sorry La,” He whispered, touching his forehead to hers.
“Fuck, they were right.” Lavanya whispered, glad to finally utter an expletive in this house. No one thought they’d last. Most viewed her as Arnav’s latest arm candy - but hell he barely had the time to date and she had believed, so strongly, that what she and Arnav shared was beyond the rumors.
Arnav looked at her in confusion, Lavanya smiled as a tear slipped through.
“The papers. They were right. Everyone was. And the problem is, I won’t be able to justify to anyone that I wasn’t a ‘phase’” Lavanya chuckled, being able to imagine the headlines. How wouldn’t she - marketing and PR was her speciality.
“Fuck the papers. You were a lot more. You are a lot more. It’s precisely why I can’t do this anymore.” Arnav said, wishing for once that he could’ve loved her for her sake.
“You love me La, you always have. I don’t know why, I don’t deserve it. You deserve far more, far better. And don’t mistake this as me making a choice for you. I’m just stating facts. And the thing is the only people who were right about this is, unfortunately, my family. Di knew I was doing this to prove Nani a point. I… fuck… La you can’t be a collateral damage to my feelings.” Arnav confessed, feeling the most defeated in his life.
He had never wanted to be like his father. He had never wanted to hurt another woman.
But just like his father he hurt the first woman who had loved him.
“I know. I know the minute you announced our engagement that you’re going to break up with me. I know you were proving a point” Arnav was surprised, just how much had Lavanya understood?
“The only thing I didn’t realize is who you were proving it to,” Lavanya concluded, stepping away from him.
“La,” Arnav sighed, “I never wanted to,”
“When are you going to tell her?” Lavanya cut him off, alarming him with her question,
Arnav closed his eyes in resignation, “there’s no her,”
“ASR, I’ve always respected you for being an honest man. Don’t change that.” Lavanya’s voice held rage for the first time.
She understood breakups, she did not understand stupidity. Just how many people was Arnav willing to sacrifice as collateral damage just because he could not understand his feelings? Hell, in no universe would Lavanya want Khushi to become the next victim.
“La, this is not the time. I cannot take you fixing my stuff when I’ve barely apologized.” Arnav stated, and he meant it. Khushi was not important right now.
“Oh I’ll make you apologize, don’t worry about it. After all you broke Lavanya Kashyap’s heart and more than that, your family made me wear terrible clothes ninety percent of the time,” Lavanya cracked a pained smile.
Arnav let out a hollow laugh, and held her hand.
“No, ASR, I am serious.” Lavanya pushed his hand aside, “You can’t keep sacrificing people left right and center because you can’t figure things out. You’re an adult, act like one. And don’t think about me because I will hold you accountable for how much you’ve hurt me. But right now, you’re against time. Because as far as I know her you can chase her after she’s married but she won’t break her marriage for you. She’s a good person ASR, a bit too good.” Lavanya said, fixing her face as the rest of the family set into the dining table.
Lavanya was right, no matter what he and Khushi were at this point, he had to be honest to both women.
But above all, he needed to have a serious chat with his family not just about his breakup but about how they’ve been grooming La all along. Yes, he enabled them, but he had to ensure that this could not happen again.
Wasn’t Payal having similar reservations to joining the Raizada family? Mami would give her worse than what Nani handed to Lavanya.
Granted, Akash was going to have a tougher time convincing his mother for a wedding now that Arnav was not getting married - but it was high time his younger cousin fought his own battles as well.
— — —
The family looked at Arnav as he sat at the first table, his face reserve. Devyani rejoiced at Arnav pulling the chair for Lavanya, passing her a smile. Manorama clapped as she watched Lavanya, in her older clothes, settle at the table. Finally, modern clothes were back at Shantivan.
Anjali, though, closed her eyes even before Arnav opened his mouth.
This was not going to be good.
— — —
This was not good, Garima concluded. This had to be Devi Maiyya’s signal that this relationship was not meant to be. First Shashi had a paralytic stroke, now Khushi was nearly saved from the jaws of death, and all these happened right around the corner of Khushi and Shyam’s engagement.
As a mother her heart trembled. She could feel her dead sister bore holes into her back every time Madhumati forced Khushi to accept Shyam as a suitor.
Garima had promised Khushi’s happiness to her dead sister.
Why was Khushi’s happiness not aligning to the one man who could bring stability to her life?
“Amma,” Garima broke from her chain of thoughts and assisted Khushi to the dining table.
“Arrey, you should’ve just called for me!” Garima admonished Khushi, fixing a warm shawl around Khushi’s shoulders. Was it just her or had Khushi grown older over the past few days?
Shyam wheeled Shashi to the dining table and sat next to Madhumati. Payal sat by Khushi’s side, nodding gently to her. What were the sisters thinking?
“I have something to tell you all.” Khushi said.
— — —
“What? Why?” Devyani cried, she had grown to love Miss Kashyap! Yes it took her time to understand that beneath the modernity she despised, was a heart of gold she had grown to love!
“Nani, I will say this for once and only once. Lavanya deserves a lot more than what I can give. I cannot subject her to what,” maa went though. Arnav broke off, the questions over the past half hour hitting his head. Anjali was hugging Lavanya, an angry ‘I told you so’ in her eyes.
For the first time Anjali acknowledged she failed as a sister, that she had not stepped into her mother’s shoes at all. And she made no lack in conveying so to her brother.
Arnav accepted all the blame.
Perhaps Nani was right that day, he was closer to his father than he thought.
— — —
“Jiji told me something that has just set itself in my heart.” Khushi began, her eyes misting.
“It is so important to look at who is with us when we’re going through our worst times. And with us, actively doing things to help us. That, is an indicator of a companion far more than any fantasy.” Khushi continued, her reality becoming clear as Shyam wiped the drool from Shashi’s mouth with the gentleness of a son.
He was unfazed when Shashi spit up the food onto Shyam’s sleeve. There was not a single trace of disgust on his handsome face. How did she never see this?
“Shyam ji,” Shyam looked at Khushi, stunned at the beauty of her soft smile, “I am so sorry.”
“Haye re Nandkisore!” Madhumati interrupted, fearing the worst. The girl couldn’t be thinking of breaking her engagement could she?
“I am so sorry for not seeing you,” Khushi apologized, tears flowing as her smile grew wider, “you have been there. Always. When I needed rescuing from the goons, when I needed a job, when Buaji needed help in this house, when Babuji faced a stroke. Devi Maiyya has been constantly showing me the truth but I was just unable to see it.” Khushi wiped her tears and shot him the biggest smile she had.
“So yes, to answer the question you had posed on the night you decorated my house as if the stars had been here." Khushi reminisced the day he gave her jalebis and promised her companionship. How could she have been so blind?
"Yes, I will marry you. Not for the sake of my father. Not for the sake of the society. Not for the sake of Buaji. But for myself.”
———————————————————
A/N: Yes, I am very evil. Enjoy :D
tagging: @shaonsim @zaphbeeblebrox @shiyaravi @chutkiandchotte @featheredclover @goals1024 @honeybellexox @darkchocolatestuff @charucoal @thedupattaknowswhatsup @bigfatreader @lostafpanda @exosexosekai @hi-this-is-permabanned @scorpio-smiles @noor1025 @minpdnim @laad-governess @barshifan @whateverworks21 @maansiloves @samuraisamsworld @dropsofserenity @myloveforstuff @leila1 @onadaanparindey @urwatueat @dimaagkadahi @ijustchangedmyname @australian-desi @muttonthings @eunoiabeyours @aye-masakalii (updating this list - lemme know who wants to be added/deleted)
Khushi crumpled the delicate paper in her fists, the ink smearing into her palms. Her empty wrists didn’t miss her mother’s gold bangles. Taking a deep breath she tossed the crumbled paper in his garbage can and tore another sheet from his writing pad. Before he could come into his office, she needed to pen why he couldn’t leave, break the heart, destroy the dreams of-
Lavanya
The pen paused, soaking the paper in ink, as words left her. With a quick glance she threw away the paper, it wouldn’t take him a minute to realise Khushi Kumari Gupta was the author of the letter.
So she wrote a short letter, familiar to Lavanya’s tone and vocabulary, with a touch of desperation she had heard in the other woman’s voice over the past few days.
And for once, Khushi found the words to seamlessly bleed into the paper. Tears betrayed her emotions, in anguish and relief, that she could write what ruthlessly churned in her mind in the guise of another’s name.
This was written for Klaroline Fanfic Week @klarolinefanficweek; Week 4 [April 20-April 26, 2025] – Science fiction. Note that this is canonish and some of the dialogue is from TVD Season 3, Episode 11.
It was the 938th time loop and Caroline still hadn’t figured out the trigger. But at least she could unsettle Klaus with all the fun tidbits she’d learned about him each time she was snapped back to the past...
Reality Bites
“Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.”
— George Orwell, 1984
Caroline kept telling herself it didn’t matter what she did — or didn’t do — the end was always the same. Each time loop would begin with Klaus using the sire bond to have one of his needy asshole hybrids bite her and events would play out until eventually Silas destroyed the world. A different conversation or choice would slightly alter events just enough to keep her scrambling to stay ahead of the typical Mystic Falls crises, but somehow, some way, Silas always destroyed the world and then time would snap her back to the day a hybrid would bite her under Klaus’ orders.
And not once in the hundreds of time loops had that Dimpled Dick ever apologized. She shuddered in her childhood bed, the familiar, painful waves making her bite back a groan until her lips bled. Tyler had bitten her. It had been at least the 300th time loop since she’d tried to reason with Tyler and talk him through how to not bite her, so she’d decided to try it again. It had not gone well for either of them.
“You ripped out my hybrid’s heart. It’s a rather impressive, bloodthirsty display for such a young vampire — especially considering he was your first love,” Klaus mocked, suddenly appearing at her bedroom door.
Caroline summoned her strength because this had been her favorite part for the past 600 or so time loops. Very few souls could say they’d managed to shock the hell out of the Original Hybrid. With a wicked smile, she said, “This is where I ask if you’re going to kill me, and you’ll pretend to be offended that I’d think so low of you to kill someone on their birthday. Then, I’ll confirm that I do think that low of you. Next, you’ll examine my bite and mockingly tell me it looks bad while giving a half-assed apology about how I’m collateral damage and that it’s not personal. You’re going to touch my charm bracelet and say that you love birthdays and because I have zero self-preservation, I’ll tease you about how you’re like a billion or something.”
He faltered in his walk to her bedside, sharp eyes studying her intently without blinking. Once they became better acquainted in this time loop, she’d remind him of this moment and how inherently creepy it was and that he was fortunate he was an incredibly hot, clueless dumbass. “Is that right, love,” he said softly, a dangerous edge to his tone as he settled on her bed.
“Yup,” she said matter-of-factly. “Next, you’ll tell me that I have to adjust my perception of time now that I’m a vampire and to celebrate that I’m no longer bound by trivial human conventions because I’m free. I’ll remind you that I’m dying and then you’re going to deliver this epic speech in which you agree that you could let me die if that’s what I want; if I really believe my existence has no meaning. And then you’ll reveal how you’ve thought about it yourself, once or twice over the centuries but then you let me in on a little secret. You confess that there’s a whole world out there waiting for me. Great cities and art and music, genuine beauty, and that I can have it all. I can have a thousand more birthdays — all I have to do is ask.”
At his flabbergasted expression, she impishly winked at him, ignoring the waves of pain to reveal, “And then you’ll cradle my head and offer up your wrist while telling me to ‘have at it.’ By the way, the first time I had your blood, I thought you tasted like Junior Mints which was my favorite chocolate at this age. But later on, you’ll introduce me to To'ak, this Ecuadorian chocolate and we’ll do some sexytimes blood sharing while watching the artisans age the chocolate in wooden boxes and I’ll realize that your blood actually tastes like fancypants truffles that cost more than a Jacuzzi.”
Klaus grabbed Caroline’s hand, turning over her palm in a false soothing gesture as he said, “You said ‘the first time’ I gave you my blood. I’d certainly remember blood sharing with you, sweetheart. And I haven’t been to Ecuador since you’ve been born; at least a century back if memory serves.” Digging his fingers into her wrist to wordlessly deliver his threat, he commanded, “Now do be a lamb and explain yourself.”
Caroline managed to roll her eyes, coughing and sputtering and feeling the most unsexy she’d ever felt. Sadistic asshat was dragging this shit out way too long. “Fine. Somehow, I’m stuck in a time loop that starts with a hybrid bite and then ends a few years later with Silas destroying the world.”
Before she could continue, hybrid gold flared in his gaze and his hand shot out to grip her by the throat, dragging her toward him. “Silas?! How do you know about Silas?”
She recognized the alarm in his voice and it comforted her. It was nice to not be the only one panicking. At least she’d managed to get his attention, although from the way his fingers were squeezing, she was moments away from having her neck snapped. She managed to croak out, “Calm the fuck down. We’ve got a solid year before Silas is going to be an issue; it’s more than enough time for us to gather up all of Kol’s grimoires from Longyearbyen, Changtang, Mekong Delta and Devon Island.”
She’d meant to reassure him, but if anything, he looked even more freaked out than before. Oh. Right. She wasn’t supposed to know about Kol yet. And Klaus had never known where Kol had stashed his grimoires — it had taken three batches of her bourbon-bacon butter cookies and Bonnie squeezing into a tube top to get Kol to reveal their location.
“You — you know of my brother? And he helped you — us with Silas?”
He looked so lost in that moment she almost felt sorry for him before she remembered that shady bastard stillhadn’t given her his blood and the creepy Damon visions were getting way more vivid now. “Go away,” she hissed at his blurry shadow skulking near her dresser. “Elena’s never going to pick you.”
Turning back to Klaus who watched her with a calculated wariness, she continued, “Once the world ends, I get snapped back to this day when one of your hybrids bites me. This will be the 938th time I’ve done this, by the way. And I always manage to get bitten regardless of how cleverly I try to tap dance my way around it. If Tyler doesn’t bite me, then you get a different hybrid to do it. There’s been a bunch of times where you sent an entire pack after me when you found out I escaped Tyler.”
“I’m — sorry?” Klaus shifted uncomfortably on her blankets, clearly not used to apologizing and probably wondering if he even should apologize. Still, at least he looked shamefaced and wasn’t able to meet her gaze.
In between a couple of coughing fits, she accused, “Also, you have some nerve turning that chiropractor from Kansas City into a hybrid. You knew he had a sadistic streak, but did it anyway, and seriously, you have no idea how much that sick bastard likes to play with his food.”
His body jerked as though he’d been shot, and he shred through the flesh of his wrist and shoved it to her mouth in a blurring bit of speed that made her dizzy. “Drink up, love.”
No matter how many times Caroline tasted his blood, that first explosion on her tongue always was a surprise. The spicy, coppery warmth filled her with an unbearable sense of longing. Of home. She couldn’t wait to show Klaus what they eventually would mean to each other.
He watched her with a hesitant gentleness that almost was heartbreaking to behold. There. The Klaus she eventually would come to know was in there just waiting for her to discover him.
Feeling infinitely better now that she wasn’t dying from a festering hybrid bite, Caroline impulsively yanked on his tangled collection of stupid sexy necklaces and crashed their lips together, reveling in the small gasp of surprise that escaped him. “Come on,” she murmured against his lips, blue eyes dancing with renewed hope, “we have work to do.”
As she marched down the hallway to take a much-needed shower with Klaus boldly trailing behind her, their banter felt new and yet comfortingly familiar:
“Like hunt down a certain chiropractor hybrid. And, I suppose we’ll have to wake my bothersome brother.”
“Nope — first we buy Bonnie a tube top, and then we wake Kol.”
“And perhaps several tube tops for you?”
“Fine. But only because I’ll have to bribe you for the part of the plan that comes right before fetching Kol’s grimoires.”
“I suppose at some point you’ll expect a more thorough apology, love?”
“Only if you ever want me to show you how good we are at hot, hybrid sex. And we’re definitely doing that chocolate tour in Ecuador at least twice this time. I promise it’s a super-important part of my plan.”
“Perhaps you should introduce me to this ‘hot, hybrid sex’ before we set any of these plans in motion? Just to ensure you’re telling the truth about these time loops, of course.”
Arnav stood in his room, unable to bear the throbbing of his head and the static noise around him. His heart hurt, hurt beyond what he could tolerate.
And once he’d been proud that nothing hurt him.
Yet one look at the woman before him and the hurt intensified. For the first time in days he realized he was tired of this love. As he had feared, love had just been that. It allowed Shyam to exploit his feelings. At least previously the man feared him enough to keep his ugliness under wraps for the fear of what would have happened if he got discovered.
Yet now Shyam enjoyed picking apart pieces of Arnav Singh Raizada because it involved the woman he loved.
What Arnav should’ve done overnight, took months because the woman he was in love with was in question.
His own actions didn’t escape him. Perhaps he will never be able to resent Khushi, nor will he ever be able to look at the stars above given his deeds.
But oh boy didn’t he hate love at this moment.
Khushi looked at him, waiting for answers, teary eyed at his anger.
“Do you even know the gravity of what you’ve done?” Arnav spoke after a moment, balling his fists to control his raging anger.
“Shyam is her husband, he needs-”
“Do you know what Shyam told me? The night you two were on the terrace?” Khushi fell silent, the pride of ‘fixing’ Di’s life diminishing as bitter memories resurfaced - ones she refused to acknowledge even existed.
Every year, on the fourteenth of February, Payal awoke to the sound of her alarm. She would stir reluctantly, and then sit up in excitement before rousing her slumbering husband. He would blink at her before smiling.
It was always a day of excitement, their wedding anniversary.
On the other side of the house, Khushi would wake as sunlight crept across the floor of her bedroom. She was always the first to get up, dropping a quick kiss to her husband’s forehead before rushing to the bathroom, eager to get downstairs.
Every year, the entire family stood in front of Devi Maiya, asking her to bless Payal and Akash and preserve their marital bliss. Even Arnav made it downstairs, participating in the rituals to ask for a bright future for his brother, sister-in-law, and their entire family. The atmosphere would be joyful, punctuated with laughter as Mami cracked jokes and Mama rolled his eyes.
James Potter just spent his sixth year trying to get over Lily Evans while, unbeknownst to him, Lily Evans just spent her sixth year trying not to fancy James Potter. Now, they just had a drunken near-kiss that neither one remembers, they’ve been named Head Boy and Girl, and they’re both wondering how they’ll survive their final year at Hogwarts in each others’ presence.
