Red Passion

Chapter 1

It's her twentieth birthday and she's spending it alone in some unknown, sleazy bar just outside of Mystic Falls—in Caroline Forbes' book, that's definitely hitting rock bottom.

Sighing, she mindlessly plays with the bright pink straw of her SoCo and Lime, thinking back to how different this very same day had been just one year before, spent with her friends and Tyler–

(–but Tyler was gone now and her friends had never really cared enough about her anyway).

It's not like she wants to play blame and put it all on them—no, she loves Bonnie and Elena, and Matt, and Stefan too—but her whole life she had always tried too hard to fit into a group that she just wasn't meant to be a part of, and she was only now realizing that, maybe, if she had seen a little earlier that you can't choose your friends simply based on how they look or where they stand on the so-called 'social ladder', then her life would be different.

She would still be human (did she even really want that?), and not a vampire. She would probably be having a blast of a birthday party right now, and not trying to suppress the urge to rip into someone's artery and feed on them until she couldn't anymore.

Yes—it definitely wasn't a very good day.

Her teen years were officially over but she would be staying seventeen forever, and it just felt like someone had suddenly dumped a bucket full of freezing cold water on her head, making her realize just how many things were wrong in her life.

And she did miss some things from being human—God, if she did—like dreaming of her two point five kids and white picket fence, but now she was immortal, was she really going to complain? No. She didn't want to play Miss Big Morals anymore—wherever had that gotten her so far? Nowhere—if she was going to live forever, technically able to do whatever she wanted to do—it was time to finally start taking full advantage of that.

Gulping down another moderate sip of her drink, she looks around the little bar, searching for an adequate victim. Caroline herself is not quite sure what she actually means by victim—(she cringes), she doesn't want to become someone's Damon—but she is thirsty for something that certainly isn't alcohol, and badly needs to scratch an itch left unrelieved since far before her and Tyler even broke up.

"This looks oddly familiar," an accented voice that she knows far too well speaks, its owner now sitting on the stool next to hers as if he had been there the whole time.

Caroline turns to look at Klaus, dislike obvious in both her glare and annoyed tone. "What? You stalking me?"

Klaus chuckles lightly, looking at her as intensely as ever. "Me finding you helpless on your birthday."

She scoffs, easily. "If I remember correctly, last time was your fault."

He shrugs. "I did quite good in saving you then, though."

(It doesn't seem half as long, but then is two years ago already).

"Well, I don't need any saving this time," she snaps, going back to nursing her drink.

Klaus arches his eyebrows, skeptically. "If you say so, love. But I can see you definitely need something stronger to quench your hunger," he comments flirtatiously—and, God, can she slap him? Please.

As he effortlessly compels himself a glass of expensive Scotch and her a Sex on the Beach, Caroline takes a minute to fully take in his profile, with his strong and defined jaw and the hints of a stubble making him even more impossibly attractive.

Groaning, she closes her eyes shut—it was so unfair. Klaus was evil and she was supposed to hate him, and yet, there he sat all hot and sexy with that stupid leather jacket of his and all she wanted to do was jump on him and feel—ugh. Bad Caroline, baaad.