Klaus stood in the center of the room, blood splattered across his shirt, his eyes unfocused. Elijah was shouting something, trying to reason with him, but Klaus didn’t hear a word. His rage was a living thing, crackling in the air like lightning before the strike.

You stepped in, barely audible at first. “Klaus.”

He didn’t turn.

“Klaus, STOP.”

He stilled.

And then—slowly, like waking from a nightmare—he turned toward your voice. His face was pale, like he wasn’t sure if he was still real.

He crossed the room in two steps, and before you could say another word, his palms cupped your face gently, as if he's scared you'll break, fingers trembling, eyes burning.

“You’re it for me,” he whispered, eyes wild but suddenly soft. “You’re the only one who makes me feel like I’m still human. The only reason I want to be. Don’t you get it? You’re the only thing anchoring me to this godforsaken world, love.” His voice was hoarse, barely a breath. “If I lose you, I lose everything. You understand? Everything." he pauses, taking a breath.

His forehead touched yours, and you felt it—the panic behind the power, the fear behind the fury.