The low hum of conversation buzzed around the dimly lit Mystic Grill, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and the soft clinking of glasses. Klaus sat at the bar, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp, as he chatted casually with his brother, Kol. Their banter flowed easily, as it always did, a mix of sarcasm and sharp wit.

But then, you walked in.

The moment Klaus's gaze lifted from his drink, his eyes locking onto you, the smirk that played at the corner of his lips betrayed the instant recognition.

Kol glanced over at his brother, following his gaze, and then back to Klaus with an amused expression. "Well, well," Kol teased, "I didn't think you'd be running into her again."

Klaus didn’t respond immediately, his attention fixed on you as you made your way toward the bar. The years had done nothing to dull the memory of that night. If anything, it had only enhanced the allure, both of you fully aware of the lingering heat between you.

He leaned back in his seat, his fingers casually toying with the rim of his glass. The playful glint in his eyes never faltered as he looked you up and down, the teasing energy in his presence practically tangible. "Well, if it isn't my favorite little mistake," Klaus said, his voice smooth and dripping with mock sweetness. "To what do I owe the... pleasure?"