Klaus Mikaelson Pics Novels & Stories

I really wanted to hear Mikael's voice, so I reached out for my phone and grabbed it. As soon as I picked it up, Mikael's video call came through. With a smile on my face, I picked the call. My smile widened when I finally saw him. He was wearing a dark green long-sleeved shirt and strands of his hair fell over his left eye. He looked really tired, but I assumed that it was because of work. The color of his eyes was hidden by his grey eye contacts. He grinned when his gaze met mine. "Hey, you" he said, gazing at me fondly.

Some so many people would be glad if he is dead here. Claus’s phone beeped again. This time it was a picture of a man. “That’s your target. He has what you are looking for” Claus t discreetly watched The Mute from a distance. He was a tall, enigmatic man with a striking presence. His icy blue eyes seemed to scan the room, and his stoic demeanor gave nothing away. “Dance with me,” Claus said to Mia. He was trying to buy himself time to study his target. Claus’s gaze fixated on her. Mia felt a rush of adrenaline. She remembers the night she met Claus.

“I know who I saw.” Jimmie’s hand went to his mouth, his eyes wide. “Oh my God…” His whisper echoed louder than a shout. From the other side of the chamber, Klaus’ voice cut through, annoyingly casual. “Uhhm… can I take a look? Just to confirm?” Franco gave me a questioning glance. I gave a stiff nod, and he walked the tablet over to Klaus’ cell. Klaus leaned in, squinting at the screen. “Ohhh yes. That’s him. The man with the white beard, dark shades, and, honestly, a tragic sense of fashion. But—” He looked up, baffled. “Why’s everybody so shocked?”

Like a moth attracted to flame, I walked in. Everything in the room looked like him. Neat, organized, and mysterious. My gaze landed on a picture frame. I froze. It was Klaus. But a younger version. He looked around nine to ten. For a moment, I almost couldn’t recognize him. The boy in the picture looked happy. Genuinely happy. He smiled brightly, his grey eyes lacking the coldness they carried now. Standing beside him was a stunning woman with brown hair and almond eyes. Who was this woman?

And even if this will be my last resort to keep what we are until the end despite this selfishness of mine, who would blame me? Mikael got out of the dorm. He looks so messy that made my eyebrows rise. Is this the renowned son of Principal del Fuego that I just met earlier? The one who is also famous for being so handsome and one of the heartthrobs from his previous school? He looks so out of that description though. He looks like a human form of sticky rice we used to eat in a snack that is being coated with a lot of rice flour. His face is filled with face powder that is not being fixed. Is he doing this foolishness on purpose? Khrystyanna approached him and fixed his necktie and his messy

His left wrist was adorned with his famous Cartier piece, and he found himself smiling at his image in the mirror. He felt like a nerdy college human boy preparing for a date with his hot athletic crush. Klaus scoffed at the thought. He shook his head and picked up his phone from his dressing table. His lips pouted as he whistled absentmindedly while searching for his best friend’s number. When he found it, he dialed the number and pressed the speaker to his right ear. Markus Dane picked up at the first ring – which was very typical of him – and Klaus could not help the broad smile that crept up to his cheeks.

The scent of soft vanilla brunt through me and left a faint scent that made me look into his eyes and whisper, "Like the guy from Vampire Diaries… Klaus Mikaelson, you know?" Silence, then a sigh. He put both of his arms around me to trap me in between and warned, "As much as I enjoy seeing drunk, stalker, don't compare me to others when I'm right in front of you."

he quipped as he stood from the table and walked away from the venue. The media tried to follow him but Mikael’s security guards were quick to stop them. After the grueling presscon, Mikael proceeded to his office. He sat on his chair and turned on the television. At that very moment, a news feature on Clarissa was being shown on the screen. Mikael turned up the volume and viewed attentively the interview of his best friend. He could not take off his eyes on the monitor as he paid attention to every word that Clarissa uttered.

They drew glances. It's hard to avoid when you moved like you were used to space parting around you. Kael’s shoulders were loose, coat open, hands empty. His gaze was not. He flicked his internal overlay, pulling up the still image from the warehouse bar. Then another—an older photo, clearer. Lys in his kitchen, barefoot, hair pulled over one shoulder, looking at him with something caught between defiance and reluctant amusement. He’d cut that one out of an internal tower to log himself.

How I wished for my parents to be part of this day and to see their happiness. “Ready?” Startled, I gasped loudly for air as I saw Klaus standing in front of me with a smile on his face. He had one hand in his pocket and held a red rose in his other. He wore this especially tailored black tux that failed to hide his muscular body and only showed how sexy he could be. He had his hair back and his beard trimmed. He stepped towards me but I just stood up and turned my back to him to hide my tears saying: “Yes”