[ it would be a lie to say he has not been waiting for this moment: waiting since that moment with caroline at the ball and even before then. he has been waiting for his enemies, so prolific that haunt him even here; he has been waiting for the root of all that endangers and torments those he loves with baited breath: himself.
klaus cannot know it is the malevolent whispers of his mirror that causes that first crack in the glass, but he hears it, so sensitive and trained his ears are for trouble, and for her. he stills, rigid and unmoving in the space between crashes, his heart stunned. but he knows with dread that eschews denial, past the symphony of terror and concern, the moment he steps into the room a split second after. he sees the floor and the countertop covered in shards. he sees the mirror, destroyed.
no subject
klaus cannot know it is the malevolent whispers of his mirror that causes that first crack in the glass, but he hears it, so sensitive and trained his ears are for trouble, and for her. he stills, rigid and unmoving in the space between crashes, his heart stunned. but he knows with dread that eschews denial, past the symphony of terror and concern, the moment he steps into the room a split second after. he sees the floor and the countertop covered in shards. he sees the mirror, destroyed.
his eyes move to her and then he does. ]