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The crowd flowed down the wide avenue of The French Quarter.
The mood of the people swirled in unseen currents beneath the surface of their faces. In a thousand people, young and old, there wasn't a single frown or expression of worry. The only sound was the music of the jazz band playing out of the way of the moving crowd. Ahead could be heard the cheering of tourists watching 'magicians' perform magic right in front of their eyes.
Molly walked through the crowd, the corners of her mouth lifted up into a slight smile as people in outrageous costumes passed by her. She didn't know what they were celebrating— considering everyday is a holiday in New Orleans— but everyone seemed to be having a good time. The celebration was a riot of colour, everyone a little more hyped up than they should be.
Molly wondered if these tourists knew that this city was crawling with witches. Powerful ones, too. Molly didn't have to be a witch to feel the magic radiate through the streets. Molly pushed her way out of the crowd and onto the sidewalk.
She lets out a sigh of relief as the sidewalks were much clearer than the streets. Molly takes Kai's coat off, holding it close to her body as the Louisiana humidity started to get to her.
A group of men begin to walk past her in the opposite direction. They weren't part of the celebration— clearly— as they were all dressed in flannels and bootcut jeans. They were muscular, and undoubtedly intimidating. She catches the eye of the one at the front, with blonde long hair and blue eyes.
He returns her gaze, but it changes from merely a passing glance to a sense of recognition, to worry, to confusion. Molly watches as he walks past her, not lifting his gaze off her back, before him and the rest of the men behind him enter one of the shops beside the sidewalk.
Molly shakes the confusion from her head as she continued to walk— unaware of her destination, or plan for that matter. This decision was purely on whim, and she was soon starting to hate herself for being so impulsive.
That eerie feeling of being watched creeps up on her back as she continued down the street. She thought to ignore it, but it grew more intense— more possessive.
She stops in her tracks, staring down at the sidewalk for a moment before quickly looking up across the street— right up to where the stare was coming from.
Klaus Mikaelson stood at the balcony of one of the old buildings. Angry eyes staring right down at Molly, before speeding completely out of sight.
"Shit." Molly mumbles, before shuffling away and out of his view. She knew the chances of having a run in with him were high, but she didn't think it'd be this soon.
She looked around quickly through the bright crowd, for any sight of him. Klaus angrily pushed his way through the dancers as Molly caught a quick glance at him.
