[She's shaken, sure, but not broken. What Klaus's mirror had gotten most wrong had been his sense of timing; a few weeks ago, a few months, and the words would have cut so much deeper, perhaps shed the blood he intended. Yet with the benefit of time passed by, instead his blade struck the shield she's built around her heart against the harsher truths of her world. His mistake had not been to pick at those wounds, but to rather wait until they had healed, to try and push his fingers into scars rather than open flesh.
Still, there has been damage done. She finishes off her bourbon, sets it aside as Klaus joins her on the bed. Cami can't fall into the pit of emotion now, the dark fears she feels each time she closes her eyes and sees those same words scrawled on the glass. Klaus is angry, and that's good. She needs fire instead of frailty, and no one can provide that better.]
He's going to come after me, Klaus. The mirrors don't cross over often, but it's happened before. [Once in Klaus's time in Wonderland, more often in Cami's. Moreover, unlike the last time when a mirror crosses, their real is typically sent to the other side.
She meets his gaze head on, for here is the worse truth: if Klaus' mirror comes to find her, then Cami can't rely on her lover's protection.]
I need to be able to defend myself. At least enough to get away.
[ his fire was forged in frailty, as so many fires are. this kindled pyre is no different. he has lost her not once but twice and that agony will be his strength. for her, he would make it anything it need be.
what he needs to be now is decided. what she needs is someone to protect her at any cost, and to help her protect herself. he is no stranger nor coward to those worser truths, and the words she speaks aloud he knows bone-deep.
everyone he loves is a target. it is not he who will suffer his mirror's wrath past anxiety and grief. it's his sisters. those he loves. it's camille. the tips of his fingers weave into the hair cascading over the nape of her neck. there is fear in his eyes as she vocalizes what they both know, a hard rock of horror in his throat, but it blends and dissolves into the resolve they both need.
the resolve he has in spades and in centuries, for her. ] So we will build an army around you, and we will figure out a way.
[He’s afraid, terrified for her. Cami can see it, even as Klaus resolves himself to not letting her suffer yet again. It matches her own fear, twin flames that they both refuse to let conquer them. She has not forgotten that she’s mortal, or how easily she might die. The hand that cradles her now, brushes through her hair to offer comfort could so easily tighten, snap her bones with a simple twist and leave her a crumpled heap on the bed.
(On the floor. The first time she’d died, her body had been left on the floor.)
She covers his wrist with her hand, her thumb brushing over his skin as she holds his gaze. He promises her that safety, and Cami believes him. She believes in herself, because she’s already died too many times.
She won’t let it happen again. She won’t suffer—and she won’t be used as a tool to make others feel such pain.]
I know. [Perhaps her confidence is foolish, but it stands genuine. There is a lot to consider, plans to make, weapons to potentially obtain from the vendors. What she wants in this moment, however, is to regain her sense of control. She hates feeling powerless and weak, moreso now than ever before.
Nearly as much as she can’t stand the idea that it’s Klaus’ reflection that has made her feel that way.
It’s impulse that drives her forward, a mix of fear and anger and need that has her leaning forward to insistently press her lips against his.]
[ he needs no weapons from the vendors. the weapon is already here, hidden away in the recesses of wonderland where only klaus knows to look. he knows what will kill his mirror; what will stop himself. anything else or less is simply a distraction. a tool.
something flickers in his eyes at her surety, at her faith so decidedly and fully given, for however he has failed her and can fail her now, there is nothing in the world he will not do to protect her, to save her, and there is strength to take from her belief. his chin lifts. his fingertips rub gentle and unthinking caresses into the skin at the nape of her neck, into her hair: small circles that begin to twine wisps of gold.
what he's not expecting is the ferocity of her kiss, the softness and heat of her lips urgent against his. it's instinct and months—years and centuries—in the fullness of his heart's and the electricity of his body's desires to respond, his breath caught as her lips capture his, his own parting over hers.
he's not expecting it, but in her needy, seeking pursuit perhaps he should. she is frightened, upset, and after a moment of unease considering what her motives might be, he lifts a hand to touch her wrist and pulls away: to look at her, to discern her. he doesn't know what she wants, but he can guess. (the blindness of distraction. the immersion of intimacy to numb or conquer all else.
he would understand it, but he does not want to make love to her to forget.) ]
[At first he responds, caught off guard by her sudden demand, and why should he not be? They’ve kissed before, shared a bed but only in the most chaste sense, and what she silently suggests with her parted lips is a leap further--one they have yet to take together. It’s not for lack of want on either of their parts, however; she doesn’t believe their romance is a fairytale, a sweet story of fantasy and happily ever after.
Yet the simplest reason, the purest one, is that world has never turned in just the right way to bring them the right moment for what they could share.
It hasn’t still. He stops her with a touch, pulls away and Cami doesn’t attempt to follow. Instead she presses her lips together, her eyes open but cast down as her thoughts catch up with her.]
Right. That...wasn’t, uh. [Her cheeks flush red, and Cami grins helplessly as she tries to swallow back that spike of shame. She loves him; she wants to be with him, but not like this.
Klaus has offered her his shelter, but he is far more than her escape.]
You know, it’s funny. I can hardly remember the last time I had sex when it wasn’t--that. [With Sam and Marcel both it had been a grasp for control--something good and normal, when nothing else seemed to make sense. Oh, she had cared for both men, deeply. But Klaus is different. He always has been, and even if it’s only in her own perception, she wants this to consume her every bit as much as he has.
[ they are not alone in this room. there are figures and forces at work. at another time, when they are in another place, perhaps he would not hesitate. he would indulge what they both long for and need. but not now. the world has never turned in just the right way to lead them to that moment; the longing he feels for her and that intimacy has only begun to build again. he has only begun to let himself want and reach carefully for that joy and the exhilaration of loving; of being loved, of being with her for all she is and all she is to him, inextricably tied to each other and that moment.
she's right. it wasn't, but that doesn't mean it won't be, that he doesn't want it with every breath inside of him, including this one. she grins and his lips curl up, bashful and stirred both as he too glances down. there is a new sort of fear in his eyes: but it is passionate and eager. he's not about to comment on her sex life (or his own for that matter) but— ] Well, it'd hardly be a chore. [ gaze bright and sweet, he tucks hair behind her ear, smooths and feels it against his fingertips again and again in soothing caresses.
he wants her and he wishes there were words to tell her so, to reassure her. instead, he exhales a shallow breath, his eyes roaming down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. ]
[He need not fear her knowledge of his desire; in all the things she has questioned, timing and motivation and what disaster is about to befall them, Cami has never doubted that he wants as she does. Still, it is sweet to see in the way he looks down, the shy grin his favors her with. Klaus is the master of the calculated risk, of keeping his guard well and set to protect all that truly matters to him.
And yet for all she's seen in him, Cami's never quite seen him like this. Klaus truly letting himself be in love, and even better, be in love with her.
At least, right up to the point in which he opens his mouth again. That gets a laugh out of her.] It'd hardly be a chore? You've been alive for over a thousand years, and that's the best you can do?
[Not very romantic, Klaus. Yet she loves it, even if Cami won't ever admit it. The silly, ridiculous words that are entirely wrong, that help her laugh--
That steal away those last dregs of fear and unease sparked by his mirror, at least for now.
Her giggling tapers off, just in time to savor the soft strokes of his fingers over her hair. She catches sight of where his eyes move, to her lips, back up to meet her gaze. She's always thought he has the most stunning eyes, ones she could lose herself in as she tries to understand everything she sees in them. When she closes the gap between them again, it's with a much gentler intent this time. A chaste brush of her mouth against his, to silently promise that things are still as they should be between them, even if now is not the time to make them more.]
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no subject
Still, there has been damage done. She finishes off her bourbon, sets it aside as Klaus joins her on the bed. Cami can't fall into the pit of emotion now, the dark fears she feels each time she closes her eyes and sees those same words scrawled on the glass. Klaus is angry, and that's good. She needs fire instead of frailty, and no one can provide that better.]
He's going to come after me, Klaus. The mirrors don't cross over often, but it's happened before. [Once in Klaus's time in Wonderland, more often in Cami's. Moreover, unlike the last time when a mirror crosses, their real is typically sent to the other side.
She meets his gaze head on, for here is the worse truth: if Klaus' mirror comes to find her, then Cami can't rely on her lover's protection.]
I need to be able to defend myself. At least enough to get away.
no subject
what he needs to be now is decided. what she needs is someone to protect her at any cost, and to help her protect herself. he is no stranger nor coward to those worser truths, and the words she speaks aloud he knows bone-deep.
everyone he loves is a target. it is not he who will suffer his mirror's wrath past anxiety and grief. it's his sisters. those he loves. it's camille. the tips of his fingers weave into the hair cascading over the nape of her neck. there is fear in his eyes as she vocalizes what they both know, a hard rock of horror in his throat, but it blends and dissolves into the resolve they both need.
the resolve he has in spades and in centuries, for her. ] So we will build an army around you, and we will figure out a way.
no subject
(On the floor. The first time she’d died, her body had been left on the floor.)
She covers his wrist with her hand, her thumb brushing over his skin as she holds his gaze. He promises her that safety, and Cami believes him. She believes in herself, because she’s already died too many times.
She won’t let it happen again. She won’t suffer—and she won’t be used as a tool to make others feel such pain.]
I know. [Perhaps her confidence is foolish, but it stands genuine. There is a lot to consider, plans to make, weapons to potentially obtain from the vendors. What she wants in this moment, however, is to regain her sense of control. She hates feeling powerless and weak, moreso now than ever before.
Nearly as much as she can’t stand the idea that it’s Klaus’ reflection that has made her feel that way.
It’s impulse that drives her forward, a mix of fear and anger and need that has her leaning forward to insistently press her lips against his.]
no subject
something flickers in his eyes at her surety, at her faith so decidedly and fully given, for however he has failed her and can fail her now, there is nothing in the world he will not do to protect her, to save her, and there is strength to take from her belief. his chin lifts. his fingertips rub gentle and unthinking caresses into the skin at the nape of her neck, into her hair: small circles that begin to twine wisps of gold.
what he's not expecting is the ferocity of her kiss, the softness and heat of her lips urgent against his. it's instinct and months—years and centuries—in the fullness of his heart's and the electricity of his body's desires to respond, his breath caught as her lips capture his, his own parting over hers.
he's not expecting it, but in her needy, seeking pursuit perhaps he should. she is frightened, upset, and after a moment of unease considering what her motives might be, he lifts a hand to touch her wrist and pulls away: to look at her, to discern her. he doesn't know what she wants, but he can guess. (the blindness of distraction. the immersion of intimacy to numb or conquer all else.
he would understand it, but he does not want to make love to her to forget.) ]
no subject
Yet the simplest reason, the purest one, is that world has never turned in just the right way to bring them the right moment for what they could share.
It hasn’t still. He stops her with a touch, pulls away and Cami doesn’t attempt to follow. Instead she presses her lips together, her eyes open but cast down as her thoughts catch up with her.]
Right. That...wasn’t, uh. [Her cheeks flush red, and Cami grins helplessly as she tries to swallow back that spike of shame. She loves him; she wants to be with him, but not like this.
Klaus has offered her his shelter, but he is far more than her escape.]
You know, it’s funny. I can hardly remember the last time I had sex when it wasn’t--that. [With Sam and Marcel both it had been a grasp for control--something good and normal, when nothing else seemed to make sense. Oh, she had cared for both men, deeply. But Klaus is different. He always has been, and even if it’s only in her own perception, she wants this to consume her every bit as much as he has.
Not to use him as her distraction.]
no subject
she's right. it wasn't, but that doesn't mean it won't be, that he doesn't want it with every breath inside of him, including this one. she grins and his lips curl up, bashful and stirred both as he too glances down. there is a new sort of fear in his eyes: but it is passionate and eager. he's not about to comment on her sex life (or his own for that matter) but— ] Well, it'd hardly be a chore. [ gaze bright and sweet, he tucks hair behind her ear, smooths and feels it against his fingertips again and again in soothing caresses.
he wants her and he wishes there were words to tell her so, to reassure her. instead, he exhales a shallow breath, his eyes roaming down to her lips and then back up to her eyes. ]
no subject
And yet for all she's seen in him, Cami's never quite seen him like this. Klaus truly letting himself be in love, and even better, be in love with her.
At least, right up to the point in which he opens his mouth again. That gets a laugh out of her.] It'd hardly be a chore? You've been alive for over a thousand years, and that's the best you can do?
[Not very romantic, Klaus. Yet she loves it, even if Cami won't ever admit it. The silly, ridiculous words that are entirely wrong, that help her laugh--
That steal away those last dregs of fear and unease sparked by his mirror, at least for now.
Her giggling tapers off, just in time to savor the soft strokes of his fingers over her hair. She catches sight of where his eyes move, to her lips, back up to meet her gaze. She's always thought he has the most stunning eyes, ones she could lose herself in as she tries to understand everything she sees in them. When she closes the gap between them again, it's with a much gentler intent this time. A chaste brush of her mouth against his, to silently promise that things are still as they should be between them, even if now is not the time to make them more.]