Red Passion

Chapter 2

Caroline's stride is confident and purposeful—and fast (because she might be just a tiny bit late, okay?)—as she walks across campus, a huge beaming smile on her face, her English books in hand and all.

She feels happy today, light. The sun is shining above Whitmore College and her mind is just as cloudless as the sky—it's a good day.

In all honesty, she had thought she would feel much, much guiltier about having slept with Klaus (effectively betraying each and every single one of her friends in the process), but all she feels now is a huge pride in knowing that—at last—the moment had come that she had done something for herself, and herself only. It is an exciting feeling that she is not at all accustomed to.

So what if her mind betrays her for a millisecond, as she winces and her step falters just a bit, just once, because—she had snuck out in the morning.

The most immature part of her (it's so tiny, she swears) half wants to pat herself on the back, because—let's face it—how many other people can actually say they have snuck out on the one and only, mighty Niklaus Mikaelson? She's actually pretty sure she knows the answer to that, and it's none. So, yeah—you go, girl.

There is this other part, though—very annoying, if you ask her—that keeps replaying the night's events in her mind over and over again. And if it's not bad enough that those thoughts make her heart beat impossibly faster, her stomach knot with nerves, and heat pool between her legs—then there's the memory of Klaus looking at her with such unadulterated love and devotion that it makes her feel like throwing up if she thinks of how she had left him alone in his bed just hours before.

And isn't it funny really—that she does not feel guilty for what she did but because she knows that she cannot do that ever again?

And isn't it stupid anyway, useless, to try and distinguish between these two forms of shame when they aren't but the same thing? If she knows—her heart clenches painfully—that she cannot be with Klaus again, isn't it because she does, ultimately, feel terrible for being just so close to forgive him, to forget that he ever killed Jenna, or Tyler's mum, or anyone?

–why couldn't life just be easier?

She does arrive to her class—eventually—but her walk is slumped, and she does not feel one ounce of her previous confidence or happiness.

She's annoyed—at Klaus, at herself, at the world—and she feels impossibly tired, flat, weak.

The chair beside her moves, its legs scratching against the old lecture room's floor, and it's all she can do to bite her tongue, because she already has enough problems of her own—thank you—and the last thing she needs right now is a recap of the Elena Gilbert's love life telenovela.

"Hey," the brunette greets her with a half-hearted smile, oblivious to her inner struggles. "Where did you go last night? Bonnie and I were waiting for you with ice-cream and a special Gone With The Wind DVD marathon," she teases, and—God.

Caroline just really wants to roll her eyes—she doesn't, mind you, she has way more class than that—because does she now have to say sorry for having deprived poor Elena of a perfect chance to feel like the most amazing best friend that she is not? Oh, imagine her awful disappointment for not having been able to make everything be magically alright just because she had said so.

Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Forbes? How could you spend your birthday in a non Elena-Gilbert-approved fashion? How inconsiderate.

(Is she being slightly bitter? Mmh).

"I just needed some space," she answers eventually, sighing heavily.

"Oh, alright," Elena doesn't press for more—she is probably already making her own assumptions anyway, and it's not like Caroline cares, not anymore.