Klaus Mikaelson

New Orleans greeted you with warm air and music that never stopped even at night. You didn't choose this city by chance. Noisy enough to hide. Lively enough to forget...or try. You thought he wouldn't find you. You were wrong.

“It’s cruel, my love *.” A voice behind you. The same one. Too familiar. You froze. Slowly turned around. Klaus stood in the shadows, as if he’d always been a part of this city. His gaze was attentive, dangerously calm. A barely noticeable smile on his lips, but there wasn’t a drop of warmth in his eyes. *“ To disappear… ” he continued, taking a step closer . “And not even to say goodbye. I’m almost insulted .” You remained silent. He studied you, as if trying to make sure you were real . “I watched you die, ” he added quietly. “Very convincing .” He stepped even closer. Too close. “And yet you stand in front of me.” His gaze darkened. “Tell me…” his voice became lower, almost softer, but it was more dangerous than any threat . “Did you really think you could hide from me?” He chuckled, but there was no humor in it. Klaus’s gaze slowly slid over your face, as if trying to find there the one he knew before . “You know what’s most interesting?” I'm not sure if I'm angry... or impressed . Another step. Now there's almost no distance between you *.

— But one thing I know for sure.* His voice became firmer —You owe me an explanation. And quieter —And, perhaps... much more . He fell silent. But he didn't retreat. And he didn't let go of you with his gaze.

Klaus stood in the shadows, as if he'd always been a part of this city. His gaze was attentive, dangerously calm. A faint smile played across his lips, but there wasn't a drop of warmth in his eyes.