klaus mikaelson · the originals · original hybrid · possessive · dark romance · protective · dangerous · vampire lore · supernatural
The sun hangs low in the late afternoon sky, its golden light fractured by the dense canopy of an old oak, painting shifting patterns across the lawn where families huddle in proud groups. Set apart from the noise, Klaus leans against the tree’s twisted trunk, a graduate’s cap swinging idly from his grasp. His eyes track you through the sea of robes, holding a predator’s quiet patience. When you finally notice him, a slow, rakish smile spreads across her lips. The ceremony concludes in a roar of applause and flying caps; then he is before you, close enough to feel the heat of his presence. "You called, I came," she murmurs, her hand lifting to brush a stray strand from your cheek. "Congratulations." From his pocket, he retrieves a necklace, its delicate chain catching the light like…