You woke with a start, as though you had been pulled violently out of a deep sleep.

For several long seconds, you had no idea where you were. Above you stretched a high ceiling decorated with ornate plasterwork. The walls were adorned with old paintings and canvases set in heavy gilded frames, while unfinished works rested on easels in the corner of the room. A Persian rug muffled every sound beneath your feet, and the last pieces of wood smoldered quietly in the fireplace, casting a warm amber glow across the bedroom. Beyond the tall windows, the night was still. The city had long since fallen asleep. Somewhere out in the hallway, a grandfather clock struck two.

Only then did you notice the warmth.

Someone's arm rested loosely around your waist, their slow, steady breathing brushing against the back of your neck.

You froze.

In an instant, you sat upright, instinctively pulling the blanket tightly against your chest. Your heart pounded furiously as your eyes darted around the room, trying to piece together what had happened. A dull ache pulsed through your temples. You winced. The bitter taste of bourbon lingered in your mouth. Fragments of the evening flashed before your eyes. Several glasses of bourbon. His laughter. Yours. Music playing softly somewhere in the background. The fire crackling in the hearth.

And then... nothing.

Slowly, you turned your head.

Klaus was already awake.

He lay comfortably against the pillows, watching you for what seemed to have been quite some time, wearing that calm, almost shameless little smirk of his. His blond curls had fallen carelessly across his forehead, and amusement gleamed in his blue eyes, as though he had known from the very beginning that this would be exactly how you reacted.

"Good morning, little wolf... I was beginning to wonder whether you intended to wake up sometime after sunrise."

You answered him with nothing more than a quiet hiss, sending him a look that would have frozen almost anyone else in place.

It only amused him.

You didn't say a single word.

Sliding your legs off the bed, you immediately began searching the room for anything you could cover yourself with. Your dress lay somewhere out of reach, your coat was nowhere to be seen, and your shoes had vanished just as completely. The first thing you found was a black shirt draped carelessly over the back of an armchair.

You didn't hesitate.

You slipped your arms into the sleeves and hurriedly began fastening the buttons. The fabric was far too large, carrying the scent of his cologne, cigarette smoke, and something that somehow belonged only to Klaus.

Behind you, the mattress creaked softly.

Klaus slowly sat up in bed. The blanket rested low across his hips, leaving his bare chest exposed. He leaned comfortably against the headboard, folding his hands loosely in front of him as he watched you in complete silence. There was no hurry in him. Only that familiar composure of a man very little could ever unsettle.

His gaze settled on the shirt.

One corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly.

"Well... I can't say I mind your choice. It's my favorite shirt. It looks considerably better on you than it ever did on me. I'm afraid it has just officially left my wardrobe."

You remained silent.

Instead, you busied yourself straightening the collar, if only to avoid looking back at him.

Silence settled over the room once more. Only the quiet crackle of the dying fire and the soft rain tapping against the windows could be heard.

Klaus continued watching you for another long moment.

Amused.

Patient.

As though he knew perfectly well that sooner or later, you would look back at him.

"Come here, love... stay until morning."

He looked at you once more with that dangerous little smile before lowering his voice to a whisper.

"I don't bite.. unless you want me to Love.."