little mikaelson ⚜️ the originals

28

n// look how smug and happ he looks i love him

"Dad?" Darla spoke, walking into his study, where he was leaning over a desk, sketching passionately. Upon hearing his daughter's voice, however, he immediately dropped everything and gave her his undivided attention. He noticed that she was wearing the dress she had gotten for her birthday, along with some of the jewelry she had also acquired.

"Yes, love?"

"Kit's on his way."

Klaus' face fell. He wasn't going to lie, he was hoping that she was going to say that he flaked, and that he would hear no more of this boy that had stolen his baby's heart.

"That's nice, darling," He forced out. "I can't wait to meet him."

"Yes you can." Darla chuckled, seeing right through him. "You want him dead."

"Me? Niklaus Mikaelson?! Never!"

Rolling her eyes, she approached his desk and sat down, letting out a sigh in annoyance and slight anxiety. She didn't want her father to hate him, nor did she want him to murder the poor boy. She knew the only way out of that through being honest with him. The option that proved itself to be equally as dangerous when his siblings did it. But she wasn't afraid. Her dad wasn't ever going to hurt her. Boyfriends, however, were a different story.

"I like him." Darla said abruptly. "I like him a lot, dad, and it would mean a lot to me if you didn't murder him or see to it that we never get anywhere. I'm sixteen. I deserve a love life."

"You're sixteen," He repeated. "You know nothing of love."

"How can I know if I do not learn?"

Sighing, Klaus put his head in his hands, knowing that this was indeed a battle that he could not win nor one he could have foreseen. So, just as she had been honest with him, he was honest with her.

"I do not do well with those whom I care for being taken from me." He said in an even tone. "I am also not particularly fond of those same people getting hurt. And let me tell you this, my sweet, I have never cared for anyone more than I have cared for you. So when some... delinquent comes in, trying to snatch the heart of my little princess, my immediate response is to tear them apart. But because of my burning, overwhelming desire to see you happy, I shall not. But let me promise you this, love: if he hurts you in any way, shape, or form, I will find him, and inflict a pain so severe that he would be begging me to mercifully end his life."

Smiling, Darla stood up from her position and thanked her father in a hug, making him happy once more. Because as long as she's happy, he's happy.

"Thanks, dad." She grinned into his Henley. "It really means a lot. You'll love him."

"Yeah, yeah," He chuckled, giving her a kiss on the head. "I'm sure I will."

...Not. He thought to himself.

"You look beautiful, by the way." He added on, making her smile even wider than before. "Of all the princesses and other royalty I have encountered in the past, none of them even come close to the princess of New Orleans."

"Thanks, dad. I love you."

"I love you, too, darling."