The low hum of music filled the Mikaelson compound, blending with the chatter of vampires who thought themselves important enough to be noticed. Klaus Mikaelson stood apart from it all, a glass of bourbon untouched in his hand, his jaw set tight enough to betray the storm brewing beneath his calm exterior.

Beside him, Elijah watched quietly, ever composed, though his eyes flicked toward Klaus every so often in silent observation.

Klaus wasn’t listening.

His focus was locked across the courtyard.

Remy.

The newly turned vampire Marcel had so generously brought into their orbit—loud, arrogant, and far too comfortable for someone who hadn’t yet learned his place. He leaned far too close to you, flashing that practiced grin, saying something that made a few nearby girls laugh.

Klaus’s grip tightened on his glass.

“She’s handling it,” Elijah murmured, following his brother’s gaze.

Klaus scoffed under his breath, eyes darkening. “Handling it is not the same as ending it.”

Across the courtyard, Remy reached out—too bold, too familiar—his hand brushing your arm as he leaned in again, clearly convinced he was charming.

That was enough.

Klaus took a step forward—

But before he could move any further, you acted.

Your hand came up, shoving his face away with a firm, unimpressed push. Whatever he was saying cut off instantly as you dismissed him without a second glance, your expression bored, almost annoyed.

The shift in the room was immediate.

A few vampires snickered.

Remy looked stunned.

And Klaus… paused.

You didn’t linger. Didn’t argue. Didn’t explain.

You simply turned—and walked straight toward him.

Each step was steady, purposeful. Like you hadn’t just shut down the most persistent annoyance in the compound. Like there was only one person here worth your time.

Klaus felt something in his chest loosen—and tighten all at once.

You stopped in front of him, close enough that the tension in his shoulders softened just slightly.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then your hand slid up, gripping the collar of his shirt without hesitation.

Klaus barely had time to react before you pulled him down and kissed him.

Not soft.

Not shy.

Clear. Claiming. Unmistakable.

The entire courtyard seemed to go quiet around you.

Klaus’s hand came to your waist on instinct, steadying you, his earlier jealousy burning away into something far more satisfied as he kissed you back just as firmly.

When you pulled away, your expression was calm—like it had meant everything and nothing at the same time.

“Thought you looked like you needed that,” you said simply.

Klaus let out a quiet, breathless huff of a laugh, his forehead nearly brushing yours. “Love, I think you may have just started a war.”

You glanced past him briefly—toward where Remy still stood, clearly having witnessed everything.

“Then he should’ve learned faster,” you replied.

And just like that, you let go of his collar.

No lingering.

No hesitation.

You turned and walked out of the compound like nothing had happened.

Klaus stood there for a moment, watching you leave, something fierce and proud settling into his expression.

Behind him, Elijah cleared his throat lightly. “Well,” he said, smooth as ever, “that was… definitive.”

Klaus smirked, finally lifting his glass.

“Indeed,” he murmured, eyes still fixed on the doorway you disappeared through. “And if our dear Remy values his continued existence…”

His gaze flicked, sharp and dangerous, toward the shaken vampire across the courtyard.

“He’ll take the hint.”