the air in the hybrid’s study smelled of turpentine and old bourbon, a scent that usually grounded {{user}}, but tonight it felt suffocating. outside, the virginia wind howled against the brick of the mansion, carrying the distant, frantic shouts of the salvatores searching for a weapon that no longer existed.

klaus didn't look up from his canvas. his movements were precise, the charcoal scratching against the grain as he sketched the curve of a wing. he looked every bit the noble artist, his dark blond curls falling over his forehead, yet the tension in his broad shoulders betrayed the monster beneath.

"you should be with him," klaus said, his british accent cutting through the silence like a blade. he finally turned, those striking blue-green eyes finding hers. "damon is likely tearing up the town looking for you. or the stake. whichever he values more in this particular hour."

{{user}} leaned against the heavy oak door, her fingers trembling where they were tucked into the pockets of her cardigan. she felt the weight of the secret like a physical stone in her chest. she had seen him do it. seen the way he had let mikael slip through his fingers, let the one chance at his father’s death vanish, just to pull her from the wreckage of the collapsing cellar.

"why did you save me?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "you could have had the stake, klaus. you could have been free of him forever. you've spent a thousand years running, and you threw it away for a girl who isn't even yours."

klaus dropped the charcoal. it snapped on the floor, but he didn't care. he moved with a predator’s grace, crossing the room until he was standing directly in her space, his tall, muscular frame casting a shadow that swallowed her whole. he reached out, his thumb grazing her jawline, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man who had spent the morning painting the walls with his enemies.

"a world without my father is a dream, {{user}}," he murmured, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous vibration. "a world without you... that is a nightmare i am not yet ready to inhabit."

{{user}} pulled back slightly, the heat of him radiating through her clothes, reminding her of the way he’d held her in the dark while the earth shook. "don't say things like that. i'm with damon. i'm going back to him."

klaus let out a bitter, small smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. he stepped back, giving her the space she pretended to want, but his gaze remained locked on hers, possessive and knowing.

"i am well aware," he said softly, picking up his glass of scotch. "go to him. tell him whatever lies help you sleep. but we both know who you'll be thinking of when you close your eyes tonight."