He turns right and enters the waiting area as a soft wind blows on the white washed walls. He spots her immediately, arms wrapped tight around her body, her back to him.
The room is empty save for them, fluorescent lights shining harsh reflections on the pristine floors. The rows of chairs are empty, askew and out of order but abandoned, as if they've resigned for the night.
Her shoulders are rigid, like they're the only ones holding her up, her blonde hair limp and unalive.
Elena's hands are just above her elbows, trying to provide some semblance of comfort, her brown eyes trying to catch Caroline's, but to no avail.
She hasn't said a word since the terrible news, just allowing herself to be dragged into conversations and wrapped in meaningless hugs. She has no desire in participating in this peculiar dance of the living. She has no desire in staying. So she allows them to pull her in, hug after uncomforting hug. But they never feel right. They're not soft enough and they smell different. They're not hers.
She stares straight ahead, out into the stillness of the night. She wants to escape. Leave. Go. It reminds her of a particular Salvatore who she hates, whose arms she doesn't miss, whose voice she doesn't crave.
She understands now, the lure of the road, the comfort of dropping everything behind.
"Caroline."
His voice is soft, comforting, but strong still. She can hear the worry in the back of his throat, he doesn't even hide it. She doesn't want to turn, doesn't want this facade of strength and stability to end. She refuses to let go of the numbness she's induced inside of her, but she knows she can't hold it in for longer.
His palm is on the small of her back, concern radiating from him like waves. She closes her eyes shut as she takes a deep shaky breath.
Elena watches the exchange, watches something pass between the two. She lets her eyes drop to the floor, she knows that right now all they need is each other. so she excuses herself and volunteers to get them cups of coffee for the night.
His eyes don't leave her form, paying no attention to anyone but his bestfriend. Her hair is a curtain of blonde shielding her face from his. He tries again, rubbing his thumb a little on her back, up and down.
"Care."
He's not afraid of touching her, he knows he needs this reassurance as much as she does. He hates how people think she's fragile when she was the only one who was strong enough to remain rational after the whole trapped in the other side debacle.
He's noticed it from before, how she would always seem to need to be in contact with him - elbows brushing, linked arms, feet on his lap. He used to think that was just the way she was, but he knows now that she's only like that with him. Just him.
He takes advantage of that now, her unspoken permission to her skin.
So he takes a step forward, her shaky breath hot on the skin of his chest. His hand goes to tuck her hair behind her ear, the other slipping onto her cheeks. Stefan tries again, allowing his need to see her float out in his breath. "Hey."
He watches her take another breath, her chest rising and falling and beating so hard they can both hear it.
When she meets his eyes she falls apart, fear and sorrow flooding her irises, her body screaming pain and defeat.
She's falling apart so he pulls her to him. She's falling apart but he keeps her together.
He's all too familiar with the pain. It consumed him not long ago. A breath catches in his throat as he is reminded of the crippling feeling he had to live through for months. Alone.
He holds her tighter, arms securely around her shoulders. He makes a promise then, that he won't ever allow her to go through that kind of loneliness. Not by herself. Not ever.
He let's her weep, tears marking the side of his sweater, warming the curve of his shoulder.
He wills her pain to spread to him, seep into his skin through her tears. He closes his eyes shut, forming wrinkles on his face. He rocks them both for what felt like hours until the sobs stop and her breathing returns to normal.
She turns in his arms and meets his eyes for the second time tonight. He finds a silent plea in them. One so out of place in her always bright eyes. Don't leave.
And he answers her with his own stare. I won't.
He pulls her back in, plants a kiss on her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."
Author's Note: I know I still have stories that need to be finished (huhu). But worry not! I have not abandoned anything. I'm just trying to figure out how to write it better. I'll get to them soon. Promise! Leave me reviews please! Thank you!