the velvet of the mask was starting to itch against {{user}}'s skin, but it was a small price to pay for the temporary silence between the two factions. she stood on the edge of the dance floor, her dark dress flowing over her curves, her eyes scanning the room with a cynical exhaustion. she was supposed to be the bridge tonight, the one person both the salvatores and the mikaelsons found tolerable enough to listen to.

"you're staring again," {{user}} whispered, her voice barely audible over the swelling orchestra. she didn't need to turn her head to know who was behind her. the air always seemed to thicken when he approached, charged with a predatory stillness that made the hair on her arms stand up.

"am i?" klaus asked, his british lilt smooth as aged bourbon. he stepped into her personal space, his chest nearly brushing her shoulder. he ignored the sharp, warning look elijah sent from across the ballroom where he stood like a marble statue. klaus leaned in closer, the scent of expensive wool and something metallic clinging to him. "perhaps i'm just waiting for you to realize that you've spent the whole night looking for me, even while you're standing with them."