Klaroline + soul mates + "it took you long enough"
15 minute minidrabble.
Reincarnation sucked.
At first she’d seen it as a gift, a way to live forever with her soulmate in every life, but over time she had realized what a curse it was. Every life, the moment she was born she was subjected to a rush of memories as she grew older that haunted her dreams. The traces of her past lives never played in chronological order or had any sort of sense. It was always difficult to decode which memories belonged to which time periods, but by the time she was seventeen she usually had a good grasp on her past.
The worst part, however, was that she and her soulmate weren’t guaranteed to meet in every life. The last time she’d seen him had been right before she’d been stabbed in the stomach by his father. She’d snuck into his house in the village to comfort him after one of that life’s brothers had died and had woken up from pain, catching a glimpse of his panicked face before her world went black. She’d gone through eleven lives without seeing his face, and though she’d had dalliances and had fallen in love with others, she’d never been able to replicate the depth of her feelings for him.
A small part of her wondered whether he was avoiding her on purpose, though that wouldn’t make any sense. How would he know where she was?
Having no one to talk to made it even more difficult to handle, though she had no idea how she’d even begin to explain the situation if she ever planned on telling anyone. She knew better than to try. After the “incident” in the olden times of Aristotle and his sexist ridiculousness where people weren’t sure whether she was a goddess or insane (she was neither—just a victim of magic more ancient than she could fathom), she’d never made another attempt.
Now though, it was 2012 and people left fingerprints all over the internet. She was determined to find Klaus. She had no idea what last name he was going by or where he was, but she made a facebook account for each of her old aliases and hoped he’d find her.
After another day of school that she could have skipped if anyone knew she’d been alive for over three thousand years, she stopped dead in the doorway of her house, her eyes wide as she stared at the figure looking at the pictures on the mantle. He had his back to her, hands clasped behind him, and was staring at one that was taken when she was eight or nine, a huge smile on her face as she clutched a doll to her chest. She licked her lips at the way his henley fell across his shoulders, the way his jeans clung to him, knew who it was just from a glance despite not having seen him for a thousand years.
He turned, a dimpled smile on his face. He was almost more handsome than she’d remembered, a wicked glint in his eye that was achingly familiar. “Hello, love.”
“Niklaus,” she whispered, taking a tentative step into the house. “It took you long enough. Where have you been?”
“Looking for you, of course.”
She took a few steps to meet him in the middle of the room, slinging her arms around his neck and standing on her toes. Their lips met in rushed, fevered kisses, and when she reluctantly pulled back for air she saw that his eyes were black, veins creeping down his cheeks.
“Niklaus, what--”
“I have much to tell you, my love. But first...”
He pressed his wrist to her mouth, something wet and slick sliding against her lips, the taste tangy and odd. His stubble brushed against her cheek as he bent to whisper in her ear. “You’ll never be taken from me again. This will make sure of it.”
