"Nothing is with me now but a sound,
A heart's rhythm, a sense of stars"
- W. H. Auden, Compline
In which Charlotte Salvatore wakes after a 145 year slumber and is thrust into a supernatural world before she can cope with the modern one.
(THE VAM...
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Charlotte was freezing and she couldn't stop her body shaking. She'd been alone in Klaus' bedroom for more than an hour now, in an attempt to warm herself up and to clean up after the chaos of the day she'd showered before tugging back on her blood stained clothes, so frightened of Klaus' hatred for her she didn't want to touch more of his things than she could help. Despite her attempts to distract herself, her thoughts were racing and her fingers were fidgeting as she tried not to focus on her guilt.
Damon had called but she couldn't bring herself to talk to him, instead reading his text that told her he was okay and replying that she loved him.
Now she was alone, no longer blinded by her terror for Damon's wellbeing, the consequences of her actions and inactions were magnified. She felt the guilt from what she'd done as it flowed through her like a pain in her body. She let them try to kill him. She let them kill his brother.
If Klaus had done to her what she'd done to him she'd hate him.
She hated herself for letting it happen.
She was sitting on one of the arm chairs in the corner with her arms wrapped around her legs and her hair flowing down her back. She hadn't the heart to sit in the bed or braid her hair or even change from her bloody clothes, she half thought he would kick her out when he returned. Her brothers had texted and they couldn't find one of the stakes and that made her worry more, she just wanted all the dammed things gone before anyone else got hurt.
She wanted it all to be over.
Finally the door propped open and Klaus brought a bowl of pasta in with him. His eyes flickered with concern before hardening, as though he'd just remembered he was meant to be furious with her. Sighing he placed the bowl on the mantlepiece by the door as he moved to the closet and pulled out a blanket. He draped it over her legs before returning and fetching her food.
Charlotte could've laughed at the moment in a better mood, so paralleled with the first time he'd been kind to her on their summer trip when she'd passed out from fear. Like then, now they didn't talk, Charlotte's hands moving silently from beneath the blankets as she reached out for the bowl, nodding in thanks before digging in.
Klaus studied her as she ate, her hair was wet meaning she'd showered, but she had tear stains on her cheeks meaning even after she'd showered, she'd cried again. The red holes on her wrist were beginning to scab over and he could see purpling around the indentations, bruising where Damon had pressed firmly. He could hear her heart racing and he knew it was from guilt, he could practically see the thoughts running through her mind.
Finally she finished, well, she had given up pushing through the whole meal. She could barely stomach half the bowl but had pressed on as much as she could, knowing Klaus would likely argue if she'd given up after letting Damon take her blood. Then they were in silence again. Passing the bowl back to him, she nearly began to quake under the stare he was giving her, he hated her, she knew it, she deserved it.
