Caroline blinked, starting at the artwork on the table in front of her. Small canvases surrounded larger canvases of landscapes that were propped up against the wall, and the table had so many drawings on it that you could barely see any patches of the walnut colour of the wood that they had been laid on.
"Are these all yours?" she said, keeping the emotion out of her voice. She didn't want Klaus to know that she was intrigued, especially as he had taken some sort of weird liking to her.
Klaus nodded, but said nothing. He just watched her silently, observing her reactions. He had been alive for more than a thousand years and had discovered the tool of learning how to read people by the expressions that they made - or didn't make on this occasion.
"I've had a lot of time on my hands." He smiled, small circles of plum red flush appearing on the apples of his prominent cheeks. They stood out in comparison to the cream colour of his skin and - almost - looked normal.
"Right," said Caroline, "In between using the sire bond you have with my boyfriend to your advantage, making new hybrids for no reason other than to keep you company, and locking up your family in air-tight coffins so that they don't try to destroy you themselves." She turned to look at him, anger flaring in her eyes. "Yeah, I'd say you've had a hell of a lot of time on your hands, Klaus."
Without so much as a passing glance, she walked to the steps that lead out from his artroom and into the long corridor that lead to the ballroom that her friends were in. Her blue-heeled foot stopped as it hit the first step, and she swivelled round on the ball of her foot to look at him one last time.
"If you want to 'court' me, Klaus," she began, distaste in her tone, "Maybe you should start with letting Tyler go. You don't need him for anything - you don't need any of them for anything, and I'm never going to feel anything but absolute hatred toward you until you do something worthy of anyone's affection."
And with that, she stormed up the stairs, leaving Klaus to stew in self-resentment.
He sat at the chair to his desk, his hand digging into the wooden edges of the smooth surface. His other hand went to his face, covering it as he tried to physically swipe away the anger that built up in his veins.
Then his fingers were on a pencil, tracing lines of a woman onto a scrap piece of paper. He drew softly shaded curls that ploomed in spirals just past her shoulders, round almond-shaped eyes, thick and luxurious lips, and then - last but not least - a delicately formed horse head next to the woman.
When he was finished, he stopped to look at his masterpiece. A small drawing, no bigger than an A4 sheet of paper, with rough and jagged lines that somehow made up one of the most amazing pieces that he'd ever drawn.
Smiling inwardly, Klaus picked up a fountain pen and signed the bottom right corner in fluent black ink. He wanted to write something that would catch her off guard if the drawing didn't, something that made her feel loved - desired. He couldn't allow her to feel constantly underrated - like she did with everyone else - around him.
Happy with his handy work, he ravelled the sheet into a roll and placed it inside the black suede box that had contained her bracelet. He ran his slender fingers across the material one last time, as if to say goodbye, put it in his jacket pocket, and then he pushed up from the chair and wandered up the same steps that Caroline had used minutes previously.