(𝐅𝐎𝐑) 𝐎𝐑 (𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑) 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄. niklaus mikaelson

TWO―Imperfect Bonds.

Klaus smirks. "Oh no, I can assure you, I'm a perfect gentleman, I'd let you finish a few times over at the very least."

"Charming, but words can be easy."

"Though not in your case."

She grins, "Everyone has their kinks."

"I'll show you mine for the price of a few measly words."

"Eager much? I can't blame you; I'm gorgeous, and you're desperate, no—lonely." Her captivating eyes rake over him once and then return to her drink. "Ah, a mixture of all three. The universe just keeps on giving."

"You talk far too much for someone who says so little."

"It's intentional," her gaze flickers over to the man, who looks at her expectantly over his glass, and she lets out a deep sigh, a contemplative expression taking over her features before she throws back her alcohol. "Do you believe in destiny?"

"Like fate?"

"Mhm," she trails off, looking at his raised brow, then sighs again. "Humour me."

"I don't believe a certain future is set in stone." He answered, reaching over to steal her bottle; he wasn't quite sure what alcohol it was.

"Neither did I, as a child, I believed I could do it: change fate, change destiny," she laughs, but there is no humour behind it, only bitterness. "I was naïve."

"As you said, you were a child. Children happen to see the good in the world. Their innocence is something to be preserved."

"Destiny never saw to the preservation of a child's innocence when it didn't align with its plans," she spat. "Fate, Destiny, whatever higher power there is, toys with lives, as one does with puppets, all while we sit about, unable to do anything other than play along."

"Often destiny holds a singular person in a higher regard than that of others," he says, observing her tense form. "It means they're born for something. Something important. Worthwhile."

"And they're to what? Suffer through endless tragedies for something they'd never asked for. A child should destroy and end lives all in the name of peace." she scoffs, "The price of peace is a monster."

"Someone must pay that price, and they wouldn't have been chosen without a reason. They're born to because no one else can. I'm not saying they deserve the sacrifices they've been through, but fate's chosen one is picked." She leans over, fingers brushing against his own as she swipes the bottle from his hand while listening intently. "You seem quite... passionate and versed regarding the matter. A philosophy professor, perhaps?"

Her lips twitch upward the slightest amount. "Goddess, no. Tried teaching long ago, found I lack... patience. Which the irony is—" She bursts out laughing and waves her hand, then clears her throat when noticing his amused yet confused expression. "You had to be there. No, I'm a doctor. Cardiac surgeon, to be precise."

"The hardest of professions out there," he comments. "Necessary for human survival yet never enough found."

"You can say that again. The patients are enough of a pain in my arse unconscious, then they wag their cunty tongues, and all vows I've ever made to protect and preserve human life go crashing down the clocktower," she says, refilling their glasses.

She doesn't bother to ask him about his profession. He tells her anyway. "I'm a freelance artist."

"I know," she replies, boredly. "Done anything worthwhile?"