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[poppycock]

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[persevere]

[At first, she thinks that maybe she read this all wrong, that he simply wanted her to uproot and resettle somewhere closer for convenience sake. Which would be fine, of course. That would make sense, beyond the fact that Freya probably couldn't cast that many spells whether she lived here or on their floor.

Or maybe, because she said it in that context, he's changing his mind. Little doubts always seem to worm their way into her mind, no matter how often she might be told otherwise. They're quieter these days, but they still exist, whispering at various opportunities.

And then, just when she's sure he's going to correct her, he does the opposite, and she isn't quite ready for it.]

Oh.

[She wonders if Rebekah and Freya will have anything to say about this if she agrees. Or more like when she agrees. It's not like they don't spend enough time together already, or live under the same roof.

Maybe she can convince herself this isn't as big of a deal as it is because she's sure making it feel like one.]

Alright, but only so long as you accept that I'm there to look after you too. And because I want to, not just because you think I need to. Got it?

[poppycock]

[ there forms a light inside of him, from the moment he felt the decision solidify; an anxiety, from the moment he assents and knows he needs only wait. it's what they need to do, what he needs; that is what is priority above all else: her safety. but he would be a fool to not recognize he means the rest. he chooses to mean it.

he wants to be near her. he wants to be with her.

he wants this in all the ways it is possible, the desire and longing taking hold of him from not one moment of knowing her but from all of them.

he wants her to say yes. he wants her to want what he's always wanted.

always dreamed.

there's no time to consider it, to analyze and understand the flutter of apprehension and longing inside of him. later, he might countenance what these nerves are about before casting them aside for the fullness of their future. for now the dousing of relief at her acquiescence is all he feels, and he would agree to anything. not blindly, no. it's more than fair that she be there for him too. she has been, no matter how dangerous, no matter how he fears for her. it's fairer more that she want to be.

he shifts on his feet, his breath sudden and ragged, lips pressing together and eyes rounded. ] All right, [ he agrees without pause, and pulls her into him.

his heart is full; his gut heavy. it is relief and happiness, on the heels of dread and horror that is ever present.

klaus closes his eyes and tips his cheek against hers, to feel her. the side of his nose slides against her jaw. he huddles her close and his shoulders relax. ]

[persevere]

[Her voice is smaller and infinitesimally soft as she replies:]

Good.

[He gives her no argument, just acceptance. He understands her need to control this situation, to be in charge of what she does even with some degree of necessity involved. She has to decide, not be told. She wants this to be because of them, not because of some outside force.

And it is, even if that outside force exists, even if it sped this decision along faster than it might have otherwise.

She breathes out, cool air ghosting against his face as the tension in her body releases and she leans into him.]

Thank you.

[poppycock]

[ he knows what she thanks him for her. he knows that she needs to take control of this endeavor; that she needs to be the one making this decision. he knows what she needs. he knows because he knows her, because his own needs are hardly different: he needs her to be safe. he wants with all his being for her to be happy. (to be happy with him.)

he stays still and comforted against her, his nose nestled against her neck, savoring her scent and warmth and touch. his arms are firm around her, wrapping her up. klaus lingers there, knowing with certainty that here, in these quiet, private moments, they can find some whisper of elusive peace. (it is harsh outside of this embrace. there is war beyond them.)

he pulls back, just enough to cradle her face in his palm. ] It'll be all right, [ he tells her, as if his will and promise could make it so. sometimes uncertainties armored in both are what is needed, and he wants her to hear them.

and oh, does he want it to be so. his lashes flutter; his brows lift as he tempers the sharp edge of how he wants too for this to be so: ] You will be happy. [ this should be. he wants to make her happy. ]