your last | klaroline

flying

                                   your last
                          chapter eighteen
                                    flying

The views are incredible from an airplane.

Puffy, white clouds- reminding me of when I first flew to New Orleans, practically frowning in sweat. A slight pink glow is cast upon the blank white canvas- sunrise, seeing as it is 5:00 am. We decided to get an early start to our long flight.

What's outside the window is beautiful. But that's hardly what's on my mind.

Instead, I can't stop thinking about the man beside me. His eyes are closed, his breaths quiet. It's strange to see him in a peaceful state such as sleep, seeing as he's always out fighting his demons awake. His lashes brush against his cheek, the picture of absolutely serenity.

Klaus has been everything I wished for. Giving, understanding, grateful... but I know that there's a part of him that is absolutely terrified and angry. He hides it from me- to appear strong, so I will be strong too. Still, I want him to tell me how he feels.

His eyes open, slightly, and he smirks.

Shit. I've been caught.

"Now, I'm not that irresistible, am I, love?"

My cheeks burn red. Dodging his question, my gaze returns to the window. Klaus insisted on first class, which is something I've never experienced but need to experience again. Flight attendants treat you like absolute royalty. It's luxurious.

He closes his eyes again.

Suddenly, I don't want to look at him anymore. I want him to talk to me; get to know me.

"Are you awake?" I blurt, staring at his still figure. One of his eyes opens, and he arches an eyebrow.

"Yes."

I purse my lips.

"Awake enough to talk?"

He sits up straight, readjusting his position so that he's facing me.

"Always."

I smile at that. He's so utterly British that it's annoyingly charming.

"Ask me anything."

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I immediately regret them. He opens his mouth to speak, but I immediately interrupt him.

"Anything reasonable," I correct myself, and he glares at me sarcastically.

"Fine then." He pretends to think of a question, when he most likely already has three picked out for this particular moment. "What is your favourite place you've ever traveled?"

I roll my eyes.

"I've never really travelled, expect for recently. I've been to cities close to Mystic Falls. But my home town will always be my favourite."

He smirks, relaxing into his seat.

"We'll see about that," he mutters, almost inaudible. I pretend not to hear him.

"What's your favourite letter of the alphabet?"

He beams and shakes his head at the absolute stupidity of my question. Whatever. I wanted to get to know him, why not get to know this side of him?

"X." It surprises me that he has an automatic answer- has anyone asked him this before?

He doesn't wait for me to ask for an explanation.