.

i'm headed straight for the castle

they wanna make me their queen

and there's an old man sitting on the throne that's saying that i probably shouldn't be so mean

.

.

"You know what?" the glass bottle slips from long, red fingers, "Bugger it."

The blonde watches him shrug, then wobble as he steps, steps forward when all he's done for months is step back. He thinks if he steps back enough he'll go back, go back to red dresses, red wine and red hearts beating in tune with the waltz.

But the only red he has now is sticky on the tips of his fingers. Indulging in blood had been easier when he hadn't cared. He hated her for making him care. Except he didn't, couldn't.

She had called him 'Little Boy Blue', sitting on his bed, feet up with a book in her hand, and rolling her eyes at his ranting.

"And here I am pouring my heart out to you," he had thrown his arms outwards, a dramatic gesture he had picked up from her.

"Heart? I thought Big Bad Hybrids didn't have hearts," she mocked him.

"Well, they have Carolines that pretty much work the same way," he growled, slurping from his bottle.

"Oh, yeah?" she raised her eyebrows, daring him to insult her, 'just see how far that'll get you, Mikaelson', "How so?"

"Carolines prattle in your ear all day long, constantly pushing you to feel. On occasion, literally pushing you."

She smiled, remembering, "You deserved it."

"Carolines are always around to rise your blood pressure, whether they're jumping around in little shorts—"

"Hey! It is perfectly normal for a girl to put on some Pitbull when stress cleaning!"

"—or annoying you with their repetitive questions."

"Well, if you had answered them the first time..."

"Carolines are like an organ that you can't remove because you need it to survive."

He remembers how she had pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling.

"Well, keep on like that, Romeo, and Caroline might just stick around to annoy you forever."

Except she didn't, couldn't, but neither of them knew that then.

In fact, if he was given the choice, he would give anything to go back to the day where he opened the door and saw his pretty, little distraction ready to schmooze him into more favours.

.

.