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Four year old Klara Jane toyed with the golden necklace around her neck, she was alone for the first time.
Not completely alone.
Her mother was dancing somewhere in the village, enjoying the festival, but still too far for her liking.
Klara was the sort of child to hide behind her mother, using her as a shield between her and the stranger. She'd generally keep to herself, wanting to converse with the other kids but not comprehending what to say or how to say it. What if she got it wrong?
As of now she kept to one good friend and used her as a shield in much the same way she had with her mother all those years ago. She let her friend to the talking in social situations and blushed furiously if a boy she liked entered the same room as her, causing her to make her excuses and dash out.
But right now? She had to be brave.
Niklaus couldn't keep his eyes of her.
He was a typical boy, skinny, curly haired. He was handsome too. freckles covered the entirety of his nose and seemed to fade away as it got closer to his cheeks.
He could sense her nerves from six seats on the log, down, he scooted past all the people and sat beside her staring into the fire with her.
"Berrie?" He offers, Klara turns her head a smile gracing her face.
"No, Merci." Her accent was thick, beautiful nonetheless and it wasn't particularly hard to understand her, well not for him.
"Are you from France?"
"Yes." She smiles, her smile made him blush.
"My mum says the country is beautiful. I guess the people are too." He was a little older than her, almost six and yet he spoke like a teen, his words alone made Klara blush a ferocious red.
She giggles, "You're so cute."
"Oh please, anything but cute." He laughs with her.
"Join us." Her mother mouths from not to far, Klara gulps nervously. Klaus caught on, he saw her mother wanted her to dance and she was too afraid to actually do so.
She was incredible scared, her hands shook and she was attempting to take several breaths in, in fear of having another panic attack.
Klaus noticed her shaky hands, he laid his slightly bigger one on top of hers. "You'll be fine." He looks into her eyes, reassuring her.
"Thank you." She sighs.
"I'm Niklaus." He releases his hand, putting it outwards for her to shake.
She laughs at the formality, placing her hand in his and shaking it firmly.
"I'm Klara." She smiles.
A/n
I know they speak a little toop good for four and fiveyear olds but this is like a thousandyearsagosowho knows.
Yes Klara has a french accent but she obviously grew out of it:)
