Lover Be | The Originals

Chapter Eight | A Walk in the Snow

"Our Winter Walk" by Aisha Haider

"Hi again," Malia greets Klaus at the end of her set with a smile. "You've become a bit of a groupie."

"It seems I have," Klaus agrees. 

"I don't mind. It's nice to have a fan."

"You've gotten quite a few fans judging from how large the audience has grown since you first started playing here."

Malia closes the piano and grabs the drink resting on top. She stands and turns to him.

"I've been wondering," she starts. "You said you've traveled for a while. What's been your favorite place?

"I'd say Florence. It was a cultural landmark. The art, the music, the food. It was invigorating."

"That's everything I'd imagine. You really make it sound like the heart of the Renaissance," Malia said dreamily.

"Oh, you have no idea," Klaus looks behind her for a moment. "What's got you to think about this?"

"I don't know. You've been everywhere. All over the world. I've been . . . here. I've been to New Orleans and I've been to St. Louis. Your world is just so much bigger than mine."

Her eyes widen and she quickly drops her gaze, chewing the inside of her cheek. The words had fallen out faster than she could stop them. 

Klaus reaches out a hand to her face and Malia instinctively flinches in surprise. Klaus pauses, then tries again. This time, Malia allows him to tilt her head up, and the two stare at one another.

"I could show you," Klaus says.

Malia stares at him, startled by his forwardness. Klaus realizes her surprise quickly.

"I'm afraid I'm getting ahead of myself," he drops his hand, this time being the one to look away. Malia laughs nervously. 

Her phone lights up with a notification and she gets a glimpse of the time. She sucks in a quick breath.

"I should probably get home, actually."

"You don't want to be caught alone on these streets at night. Let me walk you," Klaus says.

"Oh yeah?" Malia rolls her eyes jokingly. "And how do I know you're not some mass murderer?" 

"I suppose you don't," Klaus responds. "But I promise that I have no plans of murdering you."

"I think that's exactly what someone who was about to murder me would say," Malia raises her eyebrows and throws on her jacket. "Come on, then. All of those weird deaths around here have really been giving me the creeps."

Klaus follows closely behind and reaches past her to grab the door.

"Oh, and he's a gentleman, too," Malia passes him with a goofy grin. "Chivalry isn't dead."

The winter chill soaked into her bones as soon as she stepped outside. Malia throws on her earmuffs, regretting that she didn't put them on before walking outside. Klaus offered her his arm to shield her from the winter chill, and she took it.

"How are you not cold?" she inquires, restraining herself from pulling him closer for warmth. "It's freezing out here."

"Call it a tolerance to the cold."

"Still," Malia's body involuntarily vibrates. "That jacket is working overtime."

The walk isn't a long one. In just a few minutes, Malia stands in the doorway of her apartment. Klaus stands patiently on the other side. 

"Tonight was a good night," Malia says. She begins to open the door for him to follow her inside, but then she pauses. "I'm . . . not going to invite you in. Not tonight."

Klaus nods in understanding, his hands folded in front of him.

"Thank you for walking me home," Malia says softly, then grins. "And for not murdering me."

"Anytime, love."