Wishes are food for the week-minded
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"Miss Forbes, just how much did you expect to get out of your little venture to the lair of the big bad wolf?"
"Enough with these games, Klaus. Do we have a deal or not?"
"Touchy". His voice rumbled, "But I think, before you sign the contract in blood, you should at least know what this agreement of ours entails?"
She merely looked at him. So he continued with a crooked grin gracing his features.
"We leave this one-pony town, you and I. We do not look back. Not once. For ten years."
"Ten years!"
"What is ten years in the grand scheme of things, love? A vampire lives countless of them."
Her eyebrows pulled together, "I have friends that aren't damned to eternity!"
"Than perhaps you should hurry along home" he fastened deep crystallized eyes on hers. "Maybe I should pay Elena a visit or perhaps finish off with Tyler where we left off". He flashed a smirk fit for nothing but a wolf.
There was a dark rimming around the blue of her eyes as she threw her hands up in discontent. "Fine! Fine, okay".
"Okay?"
A deep breath, a firm voice, "Okay. Where do I sign?"
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The warmth of the sand stretches from the crevices of her toes to the very tip of her fingers.
She breathes in the deep sea-air; relishes in the fresh invigorating taste of sunshine seeping into her pores.
Tries to ignore the potent mouth-watering anticipation of warm liquid pulsing beneath the thin layer of skin of all these people around her.
When she searches for her escort, she finds him leaning against a dilapidated fence that encases the beach, with girls (graduates, no doubt) swooning over the tantalizing accent he deceitfully purrs in to allure his victims. Granted, with the sunglasses he wears - casting a shadow over the high set of cheekbones - he won't need to talk much to ensnare his conquests.
She sets free a distinctive scoff that he (to her disdain) quite easily hears. He looks up, lets the nameless girl fade into the background so he can remove his glasses, and, the nerve of him, wink at Caroline. She slumps down on her beach towel and begins reading a certain contract.
It doesn't take long for him to abandon his ridiculous excuse of an entourage, his body obstructing the suns path to Caroline's bare legs.
"Are you still looking at that insufferable piece of paper?" He stares down at her, nursing a beer in his meticulous fingers.
She crushes it to her chest, protectively, "this piece of paper has every rule written on it. You said yourself that I should know what I was agreeing to. Remember?"
"Yes," he nods. "However I was simply speaking about a metaphoricalcontract- I prefer giving my word. You, my love, insisted upon it being written"
She folds the paper between delicate fingers, "because you are so reliable," she says as she stores it away in her beach-bag. He sits by her, stretching out his legs he beams, "I like to believe I am a man of my word", he gives a roguish grin before raising eyebrows, "more or less." She rolls her eyes, deciding sunglasses were her best option to avoid his eager stares.
"Stop being so dramatic, Caroline" he breathes, "Soon you will have trouble containing your excitement."
"It's been four weeks, Klaus. You can understand my lack of enthusiasm."
He gestures to the humans around them,
"Well the beach party is bound to be a killer of a night"
He doesn't dance, not once – well, not yet.
He sits in one of those beach chairs, a young teen-girl perched on the bend of his knees. Her hand (consciously) slips into the small gaps of his shirt as she twirls her hair and laughs aimlessly into his cheek. Every so often the slutleans in to whisper random- meaningless nothings into his ears.
Sweet naivety is so delectably entertaining.
The licks of flames from the bon-fire only accentuates the sharp angle of his jaw, enriches the thirst in his eyes. A thirst this ignorant mistakes for something far less detrimental.
Caroline nonetheless indulges in the heightened emotions of the hormonal boys and girls grinding against each other. So this is what college is like? Not too shabby.
There's a shift in the atmosphere. A strong scent spices the air and she freezes instantly. When she spots him in the belly of the crowd, her stomach turns.
Its looks innocent enough; just a girl pressing against a precariously sexy man with a voice like velvet- her back flush against his chest. His arm snakes across her waist, holding her to him- lest she fall from the loss of blood. His head is bent over the sweet crook of her neck, lips closing around an oozing wound. Caroline cannot seem to look away; she can hear the incessant pull of the girls' blood as the heart slows in a useless attempt to keep beating.
She is beside him before she even rationalizes her motive. Fingers grazing the roll of his bicep.
His shoulders, still arching over the petite body encircled in his arms relaxes. He brings his head up, presses his cheek against the weary girls head.
"Caroline," he smiles, lips tinged red. "Care for a taste darling?"
"Klaus what are you doing?" Caroline grits.
He observes his surrounding, "no need to worry, love. They have no idea." He smiles against his prey-whose head lulls in a heavy faintness. Licking a speck of blood from her cheek.
"Klaus, stop! You are going to kill her." The fires' shadows dances in the deep set of his eyes. He grips the girls chin tipping her head to rest against his shoulder. Exposing the gash at her neck, smiling, he wraps his mouth around it once more.
Caroline breathes deeply. Mesmerized by the sensual appeal about all of this and maybe if she just -
"I don't particularly enjoy being watched when feeding" head still bent, he looks up at her, though a smug smile mars his features when his eyes settle on her face, "Unless… you are going to join?"
Her body jolts a little when the soft prick of her fangs graze her lips. She instinctively covers her mouth and flees the scene. Coils when she hears a low chuckle emanating from his throat.
She stands on the balcony awash in silver moonlight. Watching the slow push and pull of the tide ease in and out on the shore below. She, (unsuccessfully) tries to count the twinkling specs of light that tint the primitive skin of the ocean.
"You left the party fairly early, love," Klaus' hypnotic voice, ripples and shatter the short moments of her peaceful lieu.
Caroline, defiant creature that she is, keeps her back to him. Remains silent in the alcohol-tinged breeze of the Caribbean night.
Sitting on the bed he begins to remove his shoes, patiently awaits the sound of her voice. One she denies him spitefully.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
"Don't call me that" she snips, fingers curling tightly around the flimsy piece of metal. "Don't pretend to actually care how I feel after feasting on, what? Six different girls?"
"If I am not mistaken," his voice crackles, his words suddenly coaxing her resentment, "I would take it that you are jealous of the connection me and my appetizers shared."
"I had many companions tonight- so don't flatter yourself."
"Please," he chides, walking till he stands behind her. Her nerves aflame. "They were but petty excuses of humans."
"And you know what it means to be human?" her voice incredulous, on a precipice of falling into skeptical laughter "you are disgusting." He leans against the railing she holds onto so despondently and folds his arm. Wears an expression she comes to, resistibly believe is… guilt?
"I am rather confident that those girls wouldn't agree," He begins, his frown stretching into a patronizing grin "well, if they were still kicking that is."
The illusion shatters, her rage unfurls in a static surge of retaliation. Her hand snaps up- tries to reach his face in a distinctive assault only a woman consumed with hatred can perfect. But to her (mistakenly) gallant attempt, his fingers snare around her wrist like a vise, pulling her to him effortlessly. His voice, low and murderously judicious, whispers against the shell of her ear. "Be sure not to make assumptions, Caroline"
Her bones creak in pain, he will let up soon she thinks, he will let up soon.
With one last squeeze, he relinquishes his hold and leaves her to the silence that embraces the golden girl.
She cradles her purpling arm against her chest, hears the clatter of shackles close around her wrists in her mind. Caroline holds a short cry low in her throat until the bathroom door closes shut and the shower surges to life.
Only then, in a moment of weakness does she allow the walls she has so diligently built to crumble, only slightly, so her tears can fall.
What has she agreed to? She wonders venomously, how am I going to survive this?
Just as her wrist replenishes with white blood cells a tail of flames combust in the air beside her. She slaps a hand over her mouth to stifle a shriek. On alert she searches the now dense air, small streamers of smoke spiraling in the breeze. Looking down, she finds a scorched ball of white, hesitantly; she stoops down and plucks the corner of the crunched paper in her fingers. A quick glance over her shoulder, Caroline begins to unfold it and the moment she hears what whispers from her hand, her heart races.
She knows that handwriting; she would know it from anywhere. With sharp jagged lines that show for the rage radiating off sturdy fingers, print the page, the cursive tails of the E's and S's –Tyler, he has written a letter, and the sender-the witch, her friend, deliver a message that makes her hold a superfluous breath and look to the door the monster sits behind.
"Hang in there, Caroline. We are figuring out a way to kill Klaus"
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A wishful flutter of overwhelming hope flits through her.
Maybe someone should tell her, that wishes are food for the weak-minded.
Hello Again,
I know not Much happeend in this chapter. But I do hope you'll stick around so I can share this fic i have been tossing around in my head for a few weeks:)
Question, what do you think of Klaus' attitude? I will be bringing more depth into him, that i swear! but at the moment, does he seem too soft?
Please drop a review about what you think? constructive criticismis always welcome.
Oh, and due to site regulations I may have to change the rating in later chapters... so yeh, :)