Klaus knew it wasn't something he should be doing. But, then again, over a thousand years had gone by, a thousand years of him never doing what was expected of him or following the rules, so he'd be damned if he'd start now.
There were only two paths he could go down with Caroline Forbes after the pervious night's indiscretion. He'd burned his "romantic" drawings of her, of course; the childish side of him seeking bitter payback, as if sizzling parchment offered any reimbursement for the way she'd used him. But that being done, he still had a choice, one he didn't offer very often to people; vengeance or forgiveness?
The problem was, he wanted to rip her head off just as much as he wanted to pull her into his arms and whisper sweet nothings into her little blonde head. And sometimes, when he let his mind wander about that second notion, he didn't want to rip her head off at all.
So, the thing he shouldn't do, the thing he knew was a total lack of respect for her privacy, something he knew she would never forgive him for if she ever found out he'd done it, was the thing he needed to do if he wanted to hang onto Caroline Forbes.
Because really, the thought of killing such a girl, of snuffing out the light that made her shine brighter than any baby vampre he'd ever met or created, made something in his chest squeeze.
His chest squeezed again in anticipation as he stood before her sleeping form. Dead of night, the sheriff out, he had all the time in the world, and not just metaphorically speaking. He sat on the side of her bed, watching her chest rise and fall with the steady, slow-paced rhythm of the unconcious mind, and hoped that she hadn't had the foresight of Katerina and the Salvatore brothers to have started taking daily doses of vervain.
He closed his eyes, sending his mind out into hers, breaking through the resistance her mind imposed easily. He was, quit literally, a thousand times older than her- and there was thankfully no vervain preseent to stop him. But instead of attempting to control Caroline, or weave dreams into her psyche, he instead went through her memories. He filtered through her fond ones first, going back to when she was a human.
Images of the human boy Matt Donavan popped up, in fifties attire, in the mystic grill. Images of her in a green ball gown, being crowned Miss Mystic Falls. This Caroline was very different from the one he knew today. She seemed lighter. But there were also holes in her mind; things that had seemingly been forgotten, or erased, only to be patched back in later. Bruises and bite marks and accusations. Klaus probed a little deeper, feeling fear in the restored memories. She had been compelled- seduced and used by Damon Salvatore, nonetheless.
Klaus felt a twinge of anger at the thought of her being pushed around by the insufferable prick of a vampire he'd come to know and despise. But he couldn't get distracted- he needed to see more.
He fast forwarded to after she'd turned. Her first kill, in all its guilt and glory. He saw in her mind's eye her own bloodied face in a mirror, mascara running down her cheeks, blood in her hair as her heart raced from almost being staked by, of course, Damon- and the non-ripper Stefan, almost useless Stefan, convincing her she wasn't a monster.
You could never be a monster, love, Klaus thought. Even covered in blood, you're magnificent.
And then she was being tortured. Shot with wooden bullets, locked in a cage like a beast, her howls and screams of pain unbearable. And then tortured again, a few months later, but this time by her own father, with sunlight and vervain, tied to a chair and led to believe that she would never be anything but evil.
He marveled at the fact that she had continued on loving her father, shed tears over this man's death, protected him and tried to convince him she was worth his love, when Klaus would have simply ripped his head off after being freed. Her capacity for love was much greater than his own, and it was that exact thing that drew him to her.
That's her light, he mused, moving on to the night that had just passed.
And there it was- the plan the Salvatores had involved her in- and there she was, putting herself on the line, the blonde distraction, to save Elena. Another thing done for love. And he could feel in her mind that when she'd smiled at him on that park bench, she'd meant it.
And so he let her live. He forgave her when an apology hadn't even been offered. This girl he fancied, this amazing creature he didn't and would never deserve, had earned forgiveness by the simple fact that she deserved it after all she'd endured in her short life.
Klaus took one last look at her, her thick eyelashes fluttering slightly, her blonde hair gleaming in the moonlight, and then he slipped away, quiet as he'd entered. Back into the night, back to entertaining daydreams of a love he wasn't even sure he was capable of having, with a girl he knew would never have him.
But, it was enough to make the endless nights seem a little less lonely.