It's been such a long time since I posted anything on here. This is pure procrastination from what I should be doing but I have been super intrigued about this relationship for the last few episodes and I really wanted to see if I could write something. Enjoy :)
"You didn't invite me to friendsgiving," he says. His tone sounds disappointed and defeated.
"Probably because we're not friends anymore," she says pointedly. She looks up from the pile of clothes she's in the middle of folding and frowns. "Why are you here anyway?"
He pushes off the doorframe and reaches to close the door behind him. She watches his movements guardedly, stopped dead halfway between her dresser and her bed.
"It bothered me that you didn't invite me," he admits, hands pushing into his pockets in a clear sign of discomfort.
"Well it bothered me that you left for three months, ignored me and then lumped me with your newbie vampire girlfriend to look after so you could skip town again," she retaliates.
Check mate, some part of her brain thinks cynically.
He nods. She thinks she hears the faint whisper of "fair enough" under his breath.
He sinks onto Elena's bed, hands clasped together in front of him, bent forward like he might be praying in a church pew.
"Okay," she says, annoyance colouring her tone, "are you just going to sit there until…?"
Until what? She forgives him? She gives an inch? She gives any indication whatsoever that she might talk to him again sometime this century?
Not gonna happen, she thinks.
"I didn't think about it," he says openly.
He doesn't give her any more than that. She's still standing uncomfortably in the same position and she can't believe he's trying to drag out a conversation she doesn't even want to have.
"Didn't think about what, Stefan?" she asks irritably.
"You," he says blankly.
She feels a wave of heat hit her, the kind that she used to feel when she was human, right before keeling over having seen stars only seconds before hand.
"Well, thanks," she says hollowly. "That's fantastic, Stefan. If all you wanted was to come over and make me feel like more of an idiot about everything you needn't have bothered because I don't even want your friendship anymore, let alone-"
"I wasn't over Elena," he says conversationally. "I don't think I was over her until that day when we had visions of each other."
The words still her dizziness and the room comes into focus. She feels her legs carry her around to the other side of her bed where she sinks into a sitting position facing Stefan directly.
"Go on," she says, against her better judgment, kicking herself for actually giving him some indication she may talk to him again sometime this century. Giving him an inch.
"And then I realised," he says simply. "It's ironic that those visions, which were amazing, could make me realise that I was over her. But I was, and I hadn't realised it until that moment."
She doesn't say anything, waiting for him to continue.
"And then everything exploded," he says with a sigh. "And I died. Everyone died. And everyone came back except Damon and I… lost it."
She feels the sympathy in her expression and wishes she could hide it. Sympathy will only get her abandoned for three months again, she reminds herself sternly.
"I just wanted something hollow to distract me," he says. "Hollow job, hollow problems, hollow relationship. I didn't want a reminder of my real life."
He looks up at her. "You were the biggest reminder of my real life."
She drops her gaze to her hands awkwardly. "What? Do you want me to apologise for making everything so much harder for you when Damon died?" she laughs. "Sorry I offered you my support, that I rang you so often-"
"I don't want you to apologise," he says with an unamused chuckle, "I just want to explain. To make you understand."
She waits again, dragging her gaze reluctantly back to meet his.
"Your friendship was the biggest reminder of my life," he says simply, "and when Enzo said… I just, I just couldn't understand how it could be true. How I could have missed it."
"And for the last couple of days, after everything you said at the hospital… It's all I've thought about."
His gaze is uncomfortably hard, like he's trying to solve a problem with it. She reminds herself to breathe normally, chants at her heart to stop hammering against her chest.
"And then," he laughs, "it bothered me that you didn't invite me to friendsgiving."
She doesn't know why but she stands, turns to go back to folding her clothes. She feels a hand on her shoulder when she does and she pauses, wills herself to not turn around, to resist, even if for a moment longer. Just so that tiny, isolated feeling of resistance might grow enough for her to walk away all together or kick him out of her room.
"Caroline…"
She turns and she hopes her expression is more forceful than it feels, which is not very forceful at all. In fact she's pretty sure she looks embarrassingly stunned.
She's surprised that he looks much the same. Agitated even, gaze darting between her eyes and her lips.
Don't, she thinks, but doesn't say.
She opens her mouth with every intention of saying it, but he covers her mouth with his own before she can choke it out.
Her mind stills itself, forgets that she's meant to be angry and unrepentant. The kiss starts out slow and languid, like a slow, relieved sigh. Her body feels weightless in the face of it, like she could be watching the whole thing from the other side of the room.
She feels (or rather observes from the other side of the room) his hand move to her face as he deepens the kiss. She feels (observes) the urgency in it then and responds, turning her head ever so slightly and pressing her body against his firmly.
She gasps in surprise when he pulls away moments later. She feels like her whole body might collapse from the weight returning to it.
"I wanted to see what that felt like," he says.
What did it feel like, she screams internally, but before she can act on it some residual part of her starts in annoyance. "You can't just walk into someone's room unannounced and kiss them to find out how you feel about them, you dick!"
She sees the corners of his lips twitch in almost amusement. It's enough to revive the angry, unrepentant part of her brain again.
She walks to the door and opens it pointedly, gaze hard and indignant. He breaks out into an open grin as he walks towards it, ducking his head as he walks out. She makes sure to slam the door when he's out in the corridor. Once she's alone she feels all the air in her lungs expel quickly, like she was holding her breath the whole time.
Seconds later, she hears her phone go off.
She marches to her bedside table and almost breaks the screen in her attempt to access the new message.
I think I might like not being friends with you.
She sinks into her bed as the weight goes out of her again, staring at the screen bleakly.
Check mate, she thinks to herself.