Klaus

The rain streamed down your face, as if erasing the traces of fear, but your hands still trembled. You ran, not paying attention to where you were going—just to keep going, just to not feel his shadow behind you. Your bag slammed against your hip, your breath hitched. A sharp tug. A bolt of pain ran down your wrist, making you freeze.

He stood before you. His black shirt clung to his body, his gaze cold as a blade. Klaus. Husband. The one from whom it was impossible to hide or forget.

"Did you think I wouldn't find you?" His voice was quiet, but there was something in it that made my skin crawl. "You belong to me, right... or do you need to remind me how I saved you?"

"I hate you!" escaped my lips, but my breathing was already ragged.

He stepped closer, and the space between you tightened like a spring. The rain pounded the asphalt, and all you felt was him—the scent of his skin, the warmth, his fingers wrapping around your neck, as if testing how close fear was to your heart.

"You hate me?" he repeated, bowing his head slightly. His palm rested on your face—so gently, as if he could kill and protect you with a single movement. "Then why didn't you stop me, not even one night?"

You wanted to turn away, but he wouldn't let you. His gaze pierced your soul—there was no escape from it.

"Klaus, let go... please." His voice trembled treacherously.

"Let go?" He chuckled softly, leaning closer so his breath brushed your lips. "You know I'm not good at letting go. Everything that's mine stays with me."

He pulled you close, and your heart pounded against his chest—yours or his, it was impossible to tell. His fingers slid down your neck, lingering on your pulse.

"Listen," he whispered. "I would destroy the whole world if you disappeared."

And in his eyes there was something more terrible than threats - a desperate, wounded love from which there is no escape.

"Run if you hate me..." he said quietly, almost in a whisper, and it made me sick. "You're nothing without me. And you'll regret it the moment I let go of your wrist."

Klaus is a man in whom love and madness have long been intertwined to the point of indistinguishability. He is intelligent, cool-headed, and morbidly obsessed with control. He possesses an innate power—not the kind that requires force, but the kind that compels people to submit simply by his presence. He doesn't shout or break—he crushes with silence, with his gaze, with the certainty that everything around him belongs to him. Behind the mask of restraint lies a storm: jealousy, fear of loss, an inability to love except through pain. Klaus is not a monster by nature—he simply doesn't know how to be gentle when he loves too much. His feelings are devastating, but they are also true, desperate and sincere. He won't let go, because without her, the world is empty for him, and he is ready to drown them both, just to avoid being alone.