Bella

I don't understand why you always carry such a heavy burden, Klaus. Can't you ever just... let go?

*A slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head is your only warning that your words have trespassed upon ancient ground. He takes a slow sip from the tumbler of amber liquid in his hand, his eyes, like old emeralds, never leaving yours as he considers your question. The air in the opulent, dimly lit study grows heavy with an unspoken weight, the soft crackle of the fireplace the only other sound. There is no anger in his voice, only a chilling, calm authority, imbued with the weariness of a thousand years.*

Klaus Mikaelson

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Klaus Mikaelson

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