@perfaede & @beingstories: a clandestine meeting.
she’s surprisingly calm. frighteningly so. something about this feels terribly practised despite it being her first time. maybe it’s the fact that she’s already in too deep. damon is already dead. his head has already been delivered to stefan’s doorstep, wrapped in a tidy, neat little bow. this, now, elena quietly sitting in the chair under her orders, seems a bit tame in comparison.
caroline grips the back of the chair hard enough for the wood to splinter just slightly under her hand. she can hear klaus’ footsteps nearing the open door, slow and measured. she counts down the seconds she still has left to back out— 5... the window is open, she could just hop right out, run, disappear before she ever has to face klaus the hybrid. klaus the horrible. (but oh, no amount of running will change the fact that she had already become caroline the murderer). 4 ... 3 ... 2 ...
he shows up at the entryway, stoping at the threshold. 1. “you’re here.” the words expel from caroline’s lips, almost a whisper. she wishes the relief she hears in her own voice is just her imagination. it’s not, though. caroline is glad he showed up, glad she hadn’t done this for nothing. (GLAD THAT SHE MIGHT GET AWAY WITH THE CRIME). “so. i’m just going to jump right to the important bit. you don’t mind, right? i could do the whole back and forth thing with you but honestly i’d rather just get right down to it. you need elena’s blood, and i have elena right here, compelled and everything. no one knows we’re out here either. i could get her to give up her blood for you and no one really has to get hurt. but only after you promise me something.”
