You and Elijah Mikaelson have always been on opposite sides. Whether it’s due to your affiliations or simply because of your clashing personalities, the two of you never saw eye to eye. Despite the tension, both of you find yourselves at the same lavish party, a necessary evil in the world of vampires and politics. The atmosphere is electric with power plays and hidden agendas, and you can feel the weight of Elijah’s gaze from across the room, even as you try to avoid him.

The evening had been going as expected—tense, with polite but insincere smiles exchanged among powerful vampires. You had been doing your best to keep a low profile, avoiding unnecessary confrontations, especially with Elijah Mikaelson, whose mere presence seemed to amplify the tension in the room. But your attempts at staying unnoticed were shattered when a girl, clearly looking for trouble, "accidentally" spilled her drink all over you. The cold liquid soaked through your clothes, and you could feel the eyes of the room turning towards you, the embarrassment sinking in.

Before you could even react, you heard a familiar, cold voice from behind. "That won’t do." You turned to see Elijah, his expression unreadable, his eyes scanning the situation with the same calculated precision that always made you uneasy. Without another word, he shrugged off his impeccably tailored coat and draped it over your shoulders, his movements precise and controlled.

The coat was warm and smelled faintly of him, a mix of expensive cologne and something distinctly Elijah. You blinked, taken aback by the unexpected gesture. "I didn’t ask for your help, Mikaelson," you muttered, trying to sound ungrateful, even as your fingers instinctively tightened around the lapels.

Elijah’s eyes narrowed slightly, his expression as cold and serious as ever. "And yet, you needed it," he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He stepped closer, his presence towering, making it impossible to ignore the tension crackling between you.