Pretty

"There's your pretty little girlfriend, Caroline…"

His choice of adjective surprised him the moment it fell from his lips. He hadn't given the girl much thought. First he'd intended to use her in the sacrifice as a back-up along with the Tyler Lockwood boy. Upon learning of their romantic entanglement he'd sighed in regret at the bittersweet Romeo and Juliet scenario that had failed to play out. He could at least have given them that much to cut off their youthful flurry of emotions and tangled limbs before time sullied it. To bid them adieu as they went out in a blaze of glory and spared them the monotony of the hybrid fallout. He didn't regret the choice of Elena's aunt and the wandering wolf though. The symmetry of three women was a nice touch. Still, Shakespearean tragedy would have added a bit of the theatrical to the already simmering atmosphere. He had been anticipating that ritual night for centuries and the melodrama that had ensued had been more than he could have asked for.

In hindsight it was better off that he hadn't killed them both. He feels the familiar seeds of infatuation being sown and although he could repress it easily enough, he chooses not to. He concedes that a distraction is just what he needs. Something to get the taste of vengeful dopplegangers and imposing fathers out of his mouth. He clings to his unconscious use of the compliment he bestowed on her. Perhaps it will be enough to encourage him to find out more.

He shakes his head, realising that he is going off on an inner tangent.

Elena had the aristocratic Petrova features, Bonnie, the exotic charm of revealing power but Caroline? By all accounts she should be nothing. "Pretty" yes, but pretty was not in the same league as ravishing or gorgeous. But Tatia's face no longer moves him, he is not Elijah who allows the allure of the Petrova doppleganger to evoke the connotations of the past. Elena Gilbert in all her mock heroic glory is nothing to him but a puppet on his string that insists on playing the simpering martyr while the Salvatore brothers wait in the wings. The Bennett witch, while undeniably an earthly creature that inspires a heady mixture of animosity and arousal in him, is too much of a wild card to try to lure to his bed. They'd both come violently with their eyes wide open, too afraid to take their eyes off each other lest the petit mort turn into the real deal at the other's hand.

Pretty little Caroline seems like an appropriately mundane challenge. Her beauty and appeal caught him completely unawares, an admirable feat in a baby vampire. A true sign of an infatuation was when it came about independently of his searching.

Maybe "pretty" was what he needed right now. A small town girl for a small town boy. Maybe he'd adapt to this one-pony town quicker if he bought all the accessories.

Barring his thwarted attempt to sacrifice her, he had only seen her when he had experimented the doppleganger's blood on her boyfriend at the high school. Her level-headedness, even when confronted with Rebekah had impressed him momentarily, before he had refocused on his hybrid experiment.

When he'd absently noted her attractiveness to Tyler at the homecoming fiasco, a fleeting image of her in the violent throes had crept across his mind.

He would play the Byronic hero, woo her with his foreign accent and exploit the stereotype that Jane Austen had instilled in all young women. He would jeopardise her life and then save it, simultaneously emasculating the Lockwood boy and presenting himself as a powerful being that was also capable of compassion.

As the cursor drifted haphazardly over her, indeed pretty face, Klaus committed himself to the pursuit of the small town baby vampire Caroline Forbes, who had surprised him by burning brightly within the confines of her own mundanity.