It was entirely too odd to be on a road trip with Klaus of all people. But the scenic sights painted a pretty picture. Moss covered mountains, the rough terrain looking impossible to manoeuvre, and yet, there they were.
The music drifted softly from the radio, and when she looked towards him, he was already staring at her.
“What are you looking at?” She asked softly, suppressing a smile.
“Well, sweetheart, the view is magnificent.” His voice dipped at the last word, and she suppressed a smile.
It had been years since they had gotten together, since they had realised that despite all the terrible things that had happened, there was still a lot between them. It only intensified when he had taken her away after the night Stefan had threatened to kill her.
While the first few weeks had been difficult, they’d usually meet each other in dark hallways after everything outside had gone to sleep. She wondered if it was the isolation that attracted her to him, but she knew it was more than that. It was the way they both had nightmares neither of them ever talked about. It was in the way she kept writing about her mom while he kept sketching images of his brothers over and over again.
Everything had come to a head when the witches had attacked them in his house, and she had saved him. And then, he saved her.
Again.
And again.
And again.
In ways she couldn’t quite articulate.
They’d gone back to Mystic Falls after that, deeming it to be the safest place. But when she found herself visiting the graveyard at night, she’d seen him one night. Not too far from the rows of coffins that were her family.
It was only after she had yelled at him, accused him of stalking her, that he had told her his secret. Yelled it into the air around them, and showed her the place where they had buried his brother, Henrik.
She had wondered at that, the idea that the grief had lingered even after a thousand years striking her like cold air on a winter morning.
After that, she would join him some times, the space between them devoid of words even as the distance between them seemed to shorten every night they met.
The first night she let him stay with her at her parents’ grave had ended with her crying herself to sleep. It was right where Jenna’s grave was too.
It was torture, to know that the only person who seemed to understand her was the one who had caused her so much pain.
But she couldn’t stop him after that, letting him come to the graves with her.
When she kissed him one day after she saw him with Caroline for an hour, she knew she was in too deep to stop herself.
And so, for once, she didn’t.
It became easier after a while, and when he saw her one night, clutching a picture of her family, he’d finally apologised about killing Jenna.
(While it meant more than she thought it would, it was months, almost more than a year before she accepted that apology. Only after she was sure he had really meant it, had really changed.)
When they left Mystic Falls the next time, she’d been aware and awake for once. Touring most of the country and then Europe seemed like the next logical step.
And now, in this small space between them, it felt even more real.
“Do you really enjoy the mountains that much?” She asked teasingly and he smirked at her, cheeks dimpling as he turned in his seat.
“I wasn’t talking about them love, and you know it.”
She couldn’t help the blush that rose to her cheeks as she took another sharp turn.
“Maybe I did.”
