The Originals One-Shots

Klaus Mikaelson #2

 1924

 You know it isn't a good idea to go to the club. The police could show up at any moment, guns drawn. But many people frequent it, anyway. You end up making your mind to go. 

 So you're sitting alone at a table, sipping your drink and looking around the room. Everyone looks perfectly happy being here, and no one looks put out. No one except you, apparently. But you don't see anyone so much as glance in your direction, so you continue to sit alone in your quiet little corner.

 "I must say, it's sad to see a lovely lady/handsome man like you sitting all alone."

 You look up at the blond man with the bright blue eyes. "I don't think I know you, sir."

 "That is because we haven't met before," he says, taking a seat next to you. "You can call me Klaus. What can I call you?" 

 You're not sure if you should tell him, but you say, "Y/N."

 "Y/N," he repeats slowly. "Well, Y/N, what brings you to this horrid place tonight?"

 You shrug. "Same as everyone else, I guess. Relax and have a drink. Isn't that why you're here?"

 "I suppose so," he says, "And to keep my distance from someone. And some things I would rather not discuss."

 "So, troubled soul?" you ask. "You know, you're probably not the only one here. Actually, I know you're not the only troubled soul here."

 Klaus leans forward in his chair and narrows his eyes a little. "Really? What's your story, Y/N?" 

 "Some things I would rather not discuss," you answer. "Other people have problems too, you know."

 "Not quite like mine, though." He sighs and sits back again. "But never mind." His previous smirk returns. "Let's not worry about any troubles, shall we? We can save that for another night."

 "I think you're going rather far in your assumptions, Klaus," you say.

 "Well," he says, still smiling, "Perhaps we'll just see how tonight plays out."