Klaroline | Winter Aesthetic
Caroline loves Aspen, she adores Switzerland and the French Alps but still -
Her favourite winter is winter in the Andes.
Their cottage is cosy and luxurious, designed and built by Klaus’ own hands - the fact that always makes her smile as she thinks of Klaus and his old Viking ways.
‘You’re my last love and I’m going to build us a home’ - he said.
They take long strolls in the snow and Caroline silently thanks for her inability to feel cold as the freezing air settles over the world around them. Klaus changes into the wolf and something stirs deep within her at the sight of him in his natural element, her heart swelling at the sign of trust he bestows upon her - and she upon him.
Later in the night, flames flicker in his eyes among the golden specks as they lie in front of the fireplace. He moves deep inside of her, hard and rough and then slow and slick, patiently building up the torturous tension - only to tip them over the edge with a punishing pace.
Mornings stretch lazily to the late afternoon, her fingers tangled in his messy curls as his hand moves over a sketchbook with meticulous finesse. Pencil’s scratching against the paper while the lines slowly form into her face, the muscles in her legs, the curve of her breasts. His other hand wanders under the hem of her knitted sweater and covers her bare thigh, settling when it fits, where it belongs.
Caroline almost spills her cocoa when Klaus’ fingertips suddenly skim higher, brushing a patch of skin under her thong. Her legs tense, trapping his hand in the juncture of her thighs and it’s a clear sign for him on how he should proceed.
Sketchbook carefully put aside (it contains her images, after all, it should be treated with respect), Klaus pulls her under him and they bury themselves in the silk of their sheets just as they fall into the warmth of their bodies.
Their own little winter wonderland.
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