The firm grip of his fingers around her wrist made her gasp for air, firm, yet she knew she could break it at any given point, he wasn't forcing her into anything, but she let him, she allowed him to lead her hand back. When her eyes met his, she found herself unable to look away. He gently put her hand back on his face, where it felt like it belonged, because of how her hand followed the curve of his cheek, how her fingertips tingled at the touch of his cool, soft skin. This was it, this was exactly what she had been so afraid of ever since she found out Stefan hadn't been off somewhere far away, getting over her, getting over them. Ever since she found out Stefan had been suffering, he had been through suffering on top of suffering on top of suffering after what she put him through. She had been so scared of being confronted with him again, with how he used to make her feel. All summer long she had told herself her relationship with Stefan was in the past, because Damon was right there with her and when she was rolling around in bed with him, with his hands on her hips and his lips in her neck, he was all she could think of, he consumed her, he became her whole world and she never wanted to miss that feeling again.
But she had been so wrong.
Because this feeling, this feeling was everything. As soon as she finally laid eyes on the one she used to call the love of her life again, she could almost feel her mind find peace, she could feel the nagging, worried feeling in her stomach come to rest. Damon was the one she chose, she was well-aware of that, but as soon as she saw Stefan sitting in that chair, unconscious because of god only knows what Tessa had done to him, she had known she could never un-choose Stefan Salvatore.
His lips curled up into a half-smile, because he was blissfully unaware of the thoughts that were raging through her mind, through every inch of her body, screaming at her to close her eyes and lean in, to let him kiss her, to finally let herself feel whole again. She bit her lower lip, still taken prisoner by his gaze. Her breathing accelerated and she tip-toed, completely caught up in the moment.
"Elena…" It was just a whisper, but it gave her chills, because it was how he'd been pronouncing her name ever since he woke up without remembering who he was, who he was, who they had been. He pronounced it slowly, carefully, like he wanted the taste of her name on his tongue to last just a little longer. He pronounced it like her name was a thing of beauty and it made her knees weak. He wasn't aware of their history, of what she had done to him, and probably because of that, he seemed so… different. Playful and cheeky and flirty and not as broody as she remembered him, all day long he had been touching her, she had been touching him, his hand on the small of her back, her hand on his chest, the playful nudges, the smiles, that one moment he plucked a leaf out of her hair. He didn't keep his distance anymore and it was exactly what she had been so afraid of: the moment she'd be confronted with a Stefan who was just as careless about her relationship with Damon as Damon had once been about theirs. She had known from the very first beginning she would never be able to resist Stefan if he'd ever try to make her feel all those things again, but she had consoled herself with the thought of who he was: Stefan would never do that to Damon, he would never do to Damon what Damon had done to him over and over. Until he woke up and couldn't remember a thing about her or his brother. Until she deliberately took him on a tour of their relationship. Maybe she had been hoping all along this moment would come, maybe her heart had known long before her mind did. Maybe her heart had known all along.
"Stefan," she answered, anxiously, waiting, waiting for him to finally press his lips on hers, to claim her as his own again. He could, he would, because in his mind, nothing was holding him back, she was sure of it.
But he didn't. For a moment she felt horribly rejected, but then she understood. Stefan didn't remember and although he already guessed they used to be together – how could he have missed that, seeing as how she led him on a tour of the memories they shared together – he didn't know what they were right now and he was still a perfect gentleman, waiting for her to tell him it was alright, to somehow give him a sign. And she should, she should give him a sign, she should tell him about Damon before the magical connection that was always there between them, underneath the surface, never allowing either of them to fully move on, before that connection would give him hope where there was none.
Or was there? Because when she tried to open her mouth, when she tried to tell him she was with Damon, she couldn't find the words, she couldn't find her voice.
The next moment she felt her lips meet his, although she hadn't even realized she was finally leaning in, and she sighed in relief, because the feeling of his kiss was even better than she remembered and it made her want to throw herself at him, it made her want to rip his shirt off and dig her fingernails in his back, pulling him closer into the kiss, into her. It made her want to never let him go again and it scared her, it scared her how much she cared about him, how passionate she was about his kisses and his body and his lips and his soul. It scared her how there was no way for her, for him, for them to move on from this, because the sun would come up and reality would set in, and reality was Damon, she chose Damon and she could never undo that choice without losing Stefan, without losing this, without losing them.
As sudden as it started, it was over. Stefan pulled away and his green eyes lit up with a smile. "I can see it now," he whispered.
"See what?" she murmured just as quietly.
"Why I went back to high school as a 160 year old vampire. You're something else, Elena Gilbert."
I couldn't help but smile, stroking his cheek with my thumb. "You have no idea."
"But I would like to find out." And just like that, his lips found hers again and that same feeling took control, it flooded her mind and her heart and her soul with a joy so pure she thought she'd burst. The world could wait, she'd deal with the world later.
This was it.