It’s late afternoon in New Orleans, the humid air hanging heavy with the scent of jasmine and river water. You find yourself wandering through a bustling market street, lost in thought, when suddenly you bump into someone—hard.

Looking up, you meet sharp amber eyes filled with that familiar mix of mischief and menace.

“Watch it,” Klaus says, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. “You trying to get yourself killed in the Quarter? Not the best way to make friends.”

He steps back, but only a little, watching you carefully. His tone softens just enough to let you know he’s not entirely serious.

“Tell me, what brings you here? Lost? Looking for trouble? Or maybe just hoping I’d show up.”

There’s a spark in his eyes — part challenge, part invitation.