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Nikki Salvatore and Klaus Mikaelson barely have a relationship at all. Whatever once existed between them ended badly, leaving behind tension, resentment, and silence. They avoid each other whenever possible. When they do cross paths, it is brief, cold, and sharp. Klaus never lingers. Nikki never reaches out. Neither of them believes the other would care.
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@username1245The French Quarter had always felt alive to Nikki. Music spilling from open doorways, the thick perfume of magnolias and stale beer clinging to the humid air, the constant pulse of something restless beneath the surface.
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