Klaus never expected it to be this... easy.
Not breaking her - that would take time.
But getting close? All he had to do was show her attention... and she bloomed. Make her believe he loved her.
She was only a means to an end, a cannon fodder in his twisted story.
Every small smile she slipped his way felt like a secret victory. Yet each one made the monster in him uneasy. Because this wasn't just manipulation anymore - not entirely.
He told himself this was all for the ritual.
For the curse. For power.
But watching her lift the paintbrush with cautious curiosity - he wondered what it would feel like if she stayed once he no longer needed her.
While his hand guided hers in a gentle stroke of color across the canvas, his thumb brushed her knuckles - light, deliberate.
Her breath hitched.
She trusted so quickly. Too quickly.
Like a bridge made of glass - beautiful, but one wrong step and it would shatter.
"You trust very easily," Klaus murmured, not accusing - more confused by the marvel of it.
Serona blinked up at him, sunlight slipping through cherry blossoms and catching the water still lingering in her lashes.
"I trust until I'm given a reason not to," she replied. "And when I lose trust... I lose it completely."
There it was - the quiet blade beneath her softness.
His gaze lingered on her too long - long enough that she shifted, cheeks warm. She gently stepped out of his hold, resting the paintbrush against her lap.
"Why do you look at me like that?" she asked, half teasing, half afraid of the answer.
Because you are far too pure to survive me.
Because I want you anyway.
Klaus tilted his head, lips curling into that charming, dangerous smirk. This was wrong, so so wrong but felt so good.
What if they had met in other circumstances, where there was no curse, no sacrifice. Just two strangers, longing for something more.
"I admire things that don't belong to me yet," he said. Yet.
Her pulse stumbled.
He noticed - of course he did - his eyes lighting up in triumph.
But then...
That same pulse faltered for a different reason. Serona's smile slipped, a flicker of grief washing over her face as quickly as it came.
She looked away, hands clenching in her dress as if holding herself together.
Klaus saw it. The shift. The sorrow.
He didn't like it.
"What is it?" His voice softened, sharp edges briefly dulled.
She shook her head. "Nothing you can fix."
"Try me," he insisted.
She exhaled - thin and fragile.
"I miss someone. Someone I'll never see again." Her fingers brushed her heart.
"A piece of me stayed with him."
Her twin brother.
Klaus didn't know who this ghostly figure was, but he despised him instantly.
Jealous of a memory. Pathetic, really.
But the ache in her voice... it gnawed at him. He recognized longing too well - and he hated that they shared that similarity.
Without thinking, he said,
"If that piece belongs to someone unworthy, replace it."
She looked at him then, really looked - as though he'd handed her something dangerous and precious at the same time.
'Did he think I was talking about a lover?' She thought but didn't correct him, wanting to tease him more.
"And who," Serona whispered, "would ever be worthy of that?"
Klaus stepped closer, lowering his voice to a promise or a threat - he hadn't decided which.
"I intend to prove that answer to you, sweetheart."
Her heart raced - excitement or fear, she couldn't tell.
Maybe both.
His gaze lingered on the fragile trust she offered him - a treasure he wasn't sure he deserved.
Because if he took it...
He would eventually have to break it.
And for the first time in centuries,
Niklaus Mikaelson wasn't sure he wanted to.
The world had gone quiet around them - except for the rustle of cherry blossoms and her restless pulse.
Klaus was about to say something else-something that might've tipped them both into dangerous territory-
When the calm voice broke through:
"Brunch is prepared."
Elijah.
Always impeccably timed. Always impeccably dressed. And always- annoyingly observant.
He stood a few steps away, hands clasped behind him like patience carved into a man.
Serona instantly pulled back, clearing her throat, trying not to look like she'd just been caught trespassing emotionally.
Elijah's eyes flickered to Klaus' hand... still hovering too close to hers.
Klaus dropped it, jaw tightening.
"Good morning, Elijah," Serona greeted politely.
Elijah's responding smile was gentle-but there was an edge beneath it.
"I trust my brother hasn't monopolized your morning too much."
Klaus scoffed. "We were merely enjoying a conversation."
"A conversation?" Elijah repeated, eyebrow lifting as he noticed the paints, the brush still warm from Klaus' touch. "How... artistic of you."
A subtle jab. Delivered with perfect grace.
Serona, unaware of the tightening rivalry, brightened.
"Klaus kindly offered to teach me. He's quite talented."
Elijah's gaze softened on her. "Indeed. There is much about my brother that is... surprising when he cares to show it."
The implication hung between the brothers like a loaded pistol.
Klaus stepped closer to Serona, a clear territorial move.
"Perhaps later I can show you the gallery, sweetheart. There are pieces not fit for the eyes of just anyone."
"Oh? Are you suggesting I'm special then?" she teased before she could stop herself.
Klaus' grin turned wicked. "Isn't it obvious?"
Elijah's jaw clenched - so subtly only Klaus noticed.
He offered his arm to Serona before Klaus could, voice smooth but firm:
"Allow me to escort you to the dining room."
Serona hesitated-glancing between them. Klaus was already holding out his hand too, a silent challenge.
Two wolves.
One girl.
And she didn't even realize she was standing in the center of a battlefield.
Serona chose softly.
"Klaus," she whispered, placing her hand in his.
Klaus didn't smirk. He didn't need to.
Satisfaction flashed in his eyes like lightning claiming the sky.
Elijah turned, posture perfect, but the disappointment was there. Controlled. Buried. But real.
As they walked toward the estate, Serona felt Klaus' thumb brush over her knuckles-slow, claiming.
A gesture Elijah noticed.
A gesture Elijah remembered.
And while Klaus wore triumph like a crown...
Elijah Mikaelson quietly resolved that he was not going to step aside so easily.
Because hope may have drawn her to Klaus-
-but Elijah intended to show her the comfort of constancy.
And so, their silent war began.
Right under her unsuspecting smile.