An ancient vampire is planning your prom with you.

The thought was coming in a steady rerun, particularly now, as I stood in the kitchen, studying the contents of the fridge. I grabbed the last tupperware container from the top shelf and shoved it in the microwave.

And he offered.

I grimaced, watching the three-day-old lasagna take as many dizzying turns as my mind. It was better to think of that, though. Better to let myself simmer in the surrealness of it all. Otherwise my thoughts would wander to more dangerous things, other moments, one of a rooftop under the stars . . .

I shook my head, as if to keep the reminder away. Like that was any help. It would be easier to think of Klaus as just . . . a guy. A guy I liked, something regular, normal, mundane. But there was no world where Klaus could be that. No, having feelings for a vampire, and an ancient one at that was . . . this was . . .

"Crazy," I said at my lasagna.

And yet . . . I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so alive.

"Talking to yourself now or to your pitiable dinner?"

A half-scream, half-gasp escaped me and I whirled around, hand clutching the fabric over my heart.

He stood in the living room, beside the fireplace, an unabashed smirk toying at his lips. Even in the dim light I could see that the doors were open. The stars in his eyes were out again.

I let out a long breath that sounded too much like relief and tried to ignore the butterflies that took of residency in my stomach. "You know, you'd think I'd be used to you doing that by now, but I'm finding that suddenly materializing without warning takes longer than a couple weeks to adjust to. How shocking."

That smile deepened enough for the dreaded dimples to appear. "But you're handling it better than most, if that's of any comfort to you."

I rolled my eyes, willing the pounding in my chest to return to a normal, human rhythm. But then another realization rose to mind, and my heart rate spiked for an entirely different reason.

And of course, he had to notice that too. "Are you all right?" he asked, suddenly close enough for me to reach out and touch him. "You look flushed."

"I'm fine," I said, a little too quickly. "Why are you here?" I cringed at how accusatory that sounded and tried to offer a buffer. "What if my Mom were home right now? How do you think I'd be able to explain . . . ? " I hoped my gesture towards him filled in the gap. "I'd be grounded so long I'd be as old as you are now by the time you saw me again."

If Klaus was bothered, he didn't show it. No, in fact, as per usual, he looked highly entertained by all of this. "I may be unorthodox, Caroline, but I am not careless." He swiped a finger along the mantle, rubbing between his fingers whatever it was he had gathered there. "The sheriff is quite the busy bee, hard at work."

My eyebrows rose. "And you know this because . . . what, some vampire-telepathy thing?" I wiggled my fingers at him, much like I'd done earlier.

That smirk turned into a knowing smile. "Because her car is not here."

I lowered my hand slowly. "Or there's that."

"And before you start lecturing me on the signs and symptoms of harassment, I will just say that I was in the neighborhood." The smile lessened some, becoming more sincere. More earnest. "And I figured you would likely be home. Alone. And perhaps would enjoy some company."

I stared at him, his words spreading like warmth through my chest. Maybe there really was such a thing as vampire-telepathy. "That's . . . " I stopped before I could say nice, knowing full-well the conversation that would lead into. Instead, I settled for "considerate."

He shrugged and came forward. "Something I have been known to be on occasion." That smirk again. "Also, you're burning it."

"What?" I glanced over my shoulder, back to the microwave, where my "pitiable" dinner was now, also, a very crispy one. "Oh!" I popped open the door, just in time for tendrils of smoke to waft out and climb to the ceiling. I quickly reached over the sink and shoved open the window. I was about to move to the back door and open that as well but Klaus beat me to it, so abruptly I nearly plowed right into him.

I glanced up. At least he had the decency to look like he was trying not to laugh.

"Well," I said, coughing into my elbow as I grabbed a dishcloth and started batting the smoke away with it. "I blame you. If you hadn't distracted me, I wouldn't have burned it."

"Yes, a true tragedy," he murmured. "My apologies, though, to have been such a distraction for you." He pursed his lips in an attempt to keep the smile at bay, leaning comfortably against the counter, arms crossed, eyes steady against mine.

I felt traitorous heat rise to my cheeks and I quickly turned away. Pull yourself together, Caroline. "Yeah, you seem pretty broken up about it." I reached into the microwave and pulled out the tupperware, dropping it unceremoniously on the counter. Fine. It did look pitiable. Well then.

I blew a loose strand of hair away from my face, fully aware of the too-smug vampire watching my every move. I looked over at him, unsurprised to find that amused little smile, ushering out his dimples along with my own blush. I tossed the dishcloth at him. "Stop that," I muttered.

He plucked the from the air without effort, eyebrows rising ever so slightly, feigning innocence. "Stop what?"

"Looking at me like that."

That only brought his eyebrows higher, that smile bigger. "Like what?"

"Oh, you know exactly like what." I dropped my attention back to the counter, to my sad attempt at dinner, trying to reign in my focus. Trying to keep him from seeing my red cheeks or think back to other things that I shouldn't be thinking about as if he were the lead in some sappy romcom. I wasn't even hungry anymore.

"We could call out for dinner," he suggested.

I tried not to dwell long on his use of 'we'. "Good to know you're so comfortable with inviting yourself to meals. And here I thought ancient times predisposed you to being charming and polite."

I snuck a look at him just long enough to catch the smile of his, still in place. "Oh, I am quite charming."

As I pulled the drawer that contained the take-out menus, it was my turn to smile. "Just impolite, then. Tell me, as someone who has been all over the world, dining with kings and queens and viscounts and duchesses, would you rather have Dominoes or something from The Grill?"