sparks

Elena, on being happy. [No spoilers, Christmas present for Dearbhla!]

...

She hated the way everyone tip-toed around her after the accident. It wasn't the same way everyone acted around Jeremy – Jeremy with his scowl and the way it was just so obvious he wasn't okay. It was the way everyone smiled at her that riled her, their empty condolences and the way they refused to meet her eyes. She hated it.

After the crash, when the grief had sunk in, like claws had ripped pain into her chest that wouldn't go away – she had promised herself she would be happy. No more moping, no more staring blankly out the window, no more hanging around waiting for the dead to come home. A new Elena, independent and content.

Then she met Stefan. And Stefan made her smile, Stefan made her happy – but... Here's the thing – Stefan was nice. He was the boy who took you to the prom, the kind of boy you took home to meet your parents. The kind of boy who bought you dinner and walked you home, the boy every girl on a rebound wanted, their very own prince charming.

Stefan was a vampire – but he was nice – he was normal.

It was lovely at first – it was still lovely – but normal and nice just isn't everything Elena wanted.

Then there was Damon. Damon who was dangerous, Damon who was a danger to everyone she knew and loved. Damon who was confident and self-assured and not like he seemed. Damon who looked happy, Damon who wasn't happy at all. Damon who could make her better, stronger.

Well. Time would tell until she discovered what – or who – could make her truly happy.