❝ you are more beautiful than you know. ❞ ( klaus to camille ? )
Cami let out a soft, almost breathy laugh, but there was no real humor in the sound. She looked down at her hands for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass before she finally lifted her chin to meet his gaze. Those ancient, intense eyes of his always made her feel like she was entirely transparent, like he was reading her just as easily as she tried to psychoanalyze him.
She says his name like a gentle correction. Like, come on. She looks at him sideways, the way she always does when she's deciding whether to pushback or let something go.
She lets herself look at him for a second. Really look. Because that's the thing about Klaus Mikaelson, he means it. He's not performing. He's not running a play. He's sat across from her with a thousand years of careful armor, and he just said that, plainly, like it cost him nothing... like it cost him everything...
She's a psychology student. She knows what deflection looks like.
She's doing it right now.
"You know most people lead with something less sincere…" She gestures vaguely, lip pulled between her teeth. He always throws her off; she's never sure what to say next when he's like this. When he's honest.
