your last | klaroline

honestly

your last
chapter eleven
honestly

My heart skips a beat.
And starts pounding again.

Call it nerves, maybe, but I've never felt this pressured before. There are so many possible outcomes that this situation could create.

He could be overjoyed- but, of course, in typical Klaus fashion, that's not realistic. Worse case scenario, he'll hunt both me and the baby to the ends of the earth. Perfect.

Klaus and Elijah should be home any minute now- and while I'm not going to run to them and steal Klaus away, I can hope that he'll come talk to me. I don't want to appear desperate, especially during a time like this.

I take a deep breath, slowing my heart rate temporarily. Soon, though, it starts racing after I hear a car roll up in the driveway. I can't think straight, my vision shakes, and I start to tremble. I shouldn't be this nervous. What's wrong with me?

Rebekah lays a calming hand on my shoulder.

Inhale. Exhale. You're going to be fine.

And, confidently, I race down the stairs, seating myself in what I hope is a casual position. I have no doubt that Rebekah will listen to our conversation, so to be safe, I'll try to lure him into my room- where Rebekah had a witch spell.

The door opens. Two tall, dark figures walk into the manor. Outside, moonlight casts rays of light into the room, creating an eerie glow, illuminating the two figure's profiles.

I can hear my heart beating. Can he tell I'm so nervous?

"Caroline."

His voice is raspy; masculine, thick with a British accent. A hint of surprise laces in with his words, taken aback by my sudden well-being.

Our eyes meet. Even in the dark, his eyes shine a brilliant blue. Still, they have a dark edge to them as he narrows his eyes at the sight of my face.

"What are you doing up? You should be resting."

I press my lips in a line. I don't realize Elijah's gone until I hear the soft click of his door closing upstairs. We're alone now.

"I'm feeling better."

His eyebrows furrow that that, but he advances towards the sofa, seating himself in front of me. It's quiet for a second, both of us lost in the other, until he speaks.

"We didn't find anything today."

Guilt clouds his expression, and his vision drifts from my face to the floor. I'm the one who should be feeling guilty.

It's quiet before I decide to speak.
There's no going back now, Caroline.

"About that..." I start, trailing off when my voice breaks. Nerves. Perfect. I clear my throat and try again. "Can you come upstairs with me? To my room? Just for a little, I promise."

His eyebrows furrow with confusion, but he hesitantly nods, standing slowly. I follow, and together we start up the stairs, exchanging brief glances as the moonlight pouring through the window becomes farther and farther away.

We reach my room, and I push it open. Everything seems too quiet tonight; tranquil.

He seats himself on the edge of my bed, his eyes clouded with concern.

"I have to tell you something."

He seems surprised at that, his posture stiffening, preparing for a blow. But, before he can react, I continue, not quite sure what words are spewing out of my mouth.

"I haven't been honest with you," I admit quietly. "I was scared. Because you're going to be mad."

I can't quite meet his gaze. Blinking rapidly, I clasp my hands in front of me. Klaus's fingers reach under my chin, pushing my head up so we're at eye level.

"I'm not scared anymore," I breathe.

When did that happen? Two minutes ago, I was hyperventilating; trying hard not to cry. Now, an eerie peace has overcome my body, running through my veins. I let out a breath.

"What is it, love?"

He's so caring with me; gentle, as if I'll break at any moment. I'm not sure how much of that is true at this point.

I can feel tears dripping down my cheeks, but my skin is so numb that I don't notice until tears start to drip on my outstretched palms.

"You're going to hate me," I choke, letting out a sob. Klaus's expression softens as he wipes the teas from under my eyes, a pained frown plastered on his lips.

"I could never."

His words are simple, but they comfort me like a blanket; wrapping around me, hugging me.
I just want to feel your arms around me.

More tears roll down my cheeks, and he pulls me closer to his chest, rubbing my arm gently with his right hand and holding me still with the other.

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I really am. I didn't think this could happen..."

My voice trails off. I don't have anything else to say to him. To anyone. Except what I've been itching to scream at the top of my lungs.

Inhale. Exhale.

"I'm pregnant."

The words roll off my tongue, practiced from when I repeated them to myself under my breath, confined to the walls of this room.

There's a moment of silence. Quiet, painful silence. His hand stops rubbing my arm.

I lift my head to see his face. His expression his blank; unreadable. Please say something.

I let out a sob, my whole body shaking. He's mad. He hates you. You ruined his life.

He opens his mouth to say something, but immediately snaps it shut. After a moment, though, he recovers and lets out a whisper.

"That's impossible."

I can't blame him for thinking that. I thought that, two months ago, when I genuinely thought it was an error in the tests. That seems like so long ago.

I let out a pained, tear-stained laugh.

"Yeah. I know."

He pushes me away, standing up abruptly, anger covering his face like a mask. He's mad. I knew he'd be mad.

"Well, why are you here then?" He growls. "You wished to gloat over how you're moving on?"

He shakes his head, shaking with anger. I sob again, upset by his predicted reaction.

Wait. How I'm moving on?

What does he think- that I flew out here to tell him I was pregnant with another man's baby? Suddenly, I'm angry as well. Did he think so low of me that I'd sleep with someone else and come here to gloat in his face about it?

"You idiot," I hiss, glaring at him. I wipe the test from under my eyes.

He snarls, his eyes wide with jealousy.

"You think so low of me that I'd come here to do that to you?" I growl, suddenly on my feet. He doesn't seem phased, his expression remaining the same.

"Well, love, that's exactly what you're doing."

My pet name doesn't sound so lovey anymore. Almost as if he's using it against me. I take a deep breath, steadying myself.

"You really think," I start, hesitantly, "I would sleep with someone else days after?"

I can't quite bring myself to say, 'sleeping with you.' Nevertheless, he gets the message, and his eyes widen. He takes a few steps backwards.

"It's your baby." Then, almost, as if he needs clarifying, I take a deep breath, repeating myself. "You're the father."
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a/n: I luv this chapter