Klaus wanders to the coffee pot, setting the old takeout box aside to pour himself a cup. It smells like some fancy roast, and he's not complaining. Patrick always had good taste, even if it took a year or so for Klaus to admit it.
But he knows the couldn't sleep line, having said it dozens of times over the last week or so himself. It's not any different now; when he closes his eyes at night he sees Dave, he sees the Apocalypse, he sees Vanya, he sees the blood down Allison's front, on the floor.
"If we must wait, I suppose I can contain myself," he sighs, all feigned drama as he digs around in one of the drawers for a fork. He should probably try and eat less like a heathen if he can, and he drags himself to another stool at the island, dragging it a little closer to Patrick. Klaus likes being near people, likes the closeness that this house has brought all of them over the years.
"But this is it, baby. Solitude, cold takeout, some coffee and some incredibly sexy company. The height of living, right here in your own kitchen." He grins around another mouthful of chicken, going quiet for a few moments before he sighs. "How is Claire? We saved the whole world but fucked up our own, so I guess that's the trade off, huh?" A shitty one, in fact. And while their family couldn't have done it without them, Klaus sometimes wonders if he and Allison shouldn't have packed up and left immediately following the funeral, after all.
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But he knows the couldn't sleep line, having said it dozens of times over the last week or so himself. It's not any different now; when he closes his eyes at night he sees Dave, he sees the Apocalypse, he sees Vanya, he sees the blood down Allison's front, on the floor.
"If we must wait, I suppose I can contain myself," he sighs, all feigned drama as he digs around in one of the drawers for a fork. He should probably try and eat less like a heathen if he can, and he drags himself to another stool at the island, dragging it a little closer to Patrick. Klaus likes being near people, likes the closeness that this house has brought all of them over the years.
"But this is it, baby. Solitude, cold takeout, some coffee and some incredibly sexy company. The height of living, right here in your own kitchen." He grins around another mouthful of chicken, going quiet for a few moments before he sighs. "How is Claire? We saved the whole world but fucked up our own, so I guess that's the trade off, huh?" A shitty one, in fact. And while their family couldn't have done it without them, Klaus sometimes wonders if he and Allison shouldn't have packed up and left immediately following the funeral, after all.