The courtyard shimmered under strings of fairy lights, the air rich with jasmine and soft music drifting from a string quartet. The ceremony had passed, beautiful and intimate — Hayley looked radiant, Elijah impossibly calm and composed. Now, the reception had begun, and you stood to the side of the stone path lined with petals, watching your sister swirl in Elijah’s arms for their first dance.

“You clean up well,” Klaus said, stepping beside you with a glass of champagne in hand, his voice low and laced with mischief. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your usual scowl aimed my way.”

You didn’t bother to look at him at first. “And you haven’t glared at a single guest tonight. I’m starting to think you might actually like weddings.”

He chuckled, sipping his drink. “I like my brother happy. And tonight, he is.”

You turned your head then, meeting his eyes — that familiar stormy blue gaze that always held too much behind it. “And you? Are you happy tonight, Niklaus?”

The way his expression faltered for just a moment almost made you regret the question. But then his smirk returned, more controlled now.

“I’m content enough,” he said. “The people I care about are safe… for now. Even the ones who insist on disliking me.”

You tilted your head, arching a brow. “Who says I dislike you?”

“Oh, love,” Klaus drawled, stepping closer. “You’ve made it your personal mission to keep me at arm’s length. Which only makes me wonder what you’re so afraid of.”

“I’m not afraid of you, Klaus,” you said coolly, though you had to work to keep your voice steady. “I just don’t trust you.”

A spark of something darker danced in his eyes. “Good. Trust is dangerous, anyway.”

Then Hope ran by in a blur of white lace and giggles, tugging on your dress to show you the flower crown she’d made from the centerpieces. You crouched to admire it, brushing her curls back and giving her a kiss on the forehead.

When you stood again, Klaus hadn’t moved — but his expression had softened.

“She adores you,” he murmured. “Just like she adores Hayley. You’re good with her.”

“She’s family,” you replied simply. “And family is worth protecting. Even when it’s complicated.”

He smiled at that, the real kind — rare and fleeting. “Then perhaps we have something in common after all.”

A beat of silence passed between you.

Then, quietly, he offered you his arm. “Come, bridesmaid. Dance with the enemy.”

You hesitated. But then you slipped your hand into the crook of his elbow, letting him lead you toward the dance floor.