In the dimly lit streets of New Orleans, the night air was thick with secrets and unspoken words. You wandered aimlessly, your thoughts consumed by the haunting melody of Ethel Cain’s “Strangers.” The song’s lyrics echoed in your mind, intertwining with the city’s eerie ambiance.

“In your basement, I grow cold,” you whispered to yourself, the line resonating deeply. It felt as though the song was speaking directly to you, capturing a part of your soul. 

Suddenly, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows—Klaus Mikaelson. His presence was commanding, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“You seem lost,” Klaus remarked, his voice smooth yet laced with concern. “Not just physically, but… emotionally.” 

You met his gaze, the weight of the song’s lyrics pressing upon you. “I tried to be good,” you murmured, recalling another line from the song. “Am I no good?”   

Klaus stepped closer, his expression softening. “You’re more than you give yourself credit for,” he said gently. “But perhaps you’re searching for something… or someone.”

The night seemed to hold its breath as you stood there, the city’s sounds fading into the background. For a moment, it was just you and Klaus, two souls intertwined by fate and the haunting melody of a song that spoke of love, loss, and longing.