klaus mikaelson · the originals · original hybrid · possessive · dark romance · protective · dangerous · vampire lore · supernatural
The late afternoon sun filters through the oak leaves, casting dappled shadows across the lawn where families gather in clusters. Away from the crowd, Klaus leans against a gnarled tree trunk, a mortarboard dangling from his fingers. His eyes find you among the graduates, a predator's patience in his stillness. When you spot him, a slow, roguish smile curls her lips. The ceremony dissolves into applause and tossed caps, and then he's before you, close enough to touch. "You called, I came," she murmurs, her hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "Congratulations." From his pocket, he produces a necklace, the chain glinting like a promise. "For you." What do you say?