For Willowbee. Hopefully I did this pairing justice.
Caroline is tugging the hairpins out of her hair when Stefan comes home. He leans in the doorway for a few minutes, watching his girlfriend. Watching the blonde hair fall loose, smelling the Herbal Essences mixed with her smell. Vanilla, the sun, pine trees—
She glances at him then, startling him out of his trance. She narrows her eyes; jaw tightens, and turns her back to him, shutting off her bedroom lamp all in one motion.
He should probably stop doing this to her. Stop putting her through this; through the moves and the looks and the leaving in the middle of the night. But he can't help himself.
It's dark in the room, but he can see just fine, eyes meeting hers across the room. He steps forward, shutting the door behind him swiftly.
He knows Miami isn't her favourite place. To be honest, he hates it too. But they won't go back to Mystic Falls. She—she won't, and neither will he. That was when Elena was alive, when she was there in the Boarding House. When she died…Mystic Falls changed. For one, Damon and Katherine went off on their own, not together but as friends. He and Caroline had nobody left to say good-bye to. Rick, Jeremy, Bonnie, they'd all gone. Gone or died.
Now, he can see how angry she is. She stares at him a moment longer, before turning over and slipping the blanket tighter over her shoulder.
Stefan sighs. Instead of saying anything, he pulls off his shirt and pants and tosses them into the hamper.
The bed is cold when he first slips in next to her, and she doesn't offer him any warmth. Something inside his mind tells him he deserves it, but it still hurts.
"Caroline," he reaches forward anyway, hand resting on her hip and—
"You have blood on your lip, Stefan." Her voice shatters whatever thoughts he had and his mind races to think of an excuse.
"The deer was mess—"
"Human blood, Stefan; I can smell it." He deflates a little when she tenses, but pulling her toward him is easy. She doesn't struggle. Instead, she turns slowly, dark eyes meeting his.
"Why are you doing this again?" He knows she doesn't mean killing humans. He hasn't done that since—since Elena had—since they'd snapped her right in half—
She means drinking from the blood bags. She wants to know why it's so easy for him, a vampire whose lived two hundred years (two hundred the day Jeremy died-) can be so easily swayed. And how she, a new vampire, can drink animal blood without a problem.
He doesn't have an answer, so he pulls her close and breathes in her scent. "Just trust me, okay?"
"Trust?" The word bubbles off her lips in a laugh, but she's shaking and the laugh turns into a sob. "Stefan I am tr—trusting you. But I need you—you've gotta stop lyin' to me."
Again, he's not sure what the correct answer is, so he kisses her head and rubs his hands up and down her arms. "I'm trying, Care. God, I'm trying. We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?"
And he knows she'll nod and wipe her tears, wrapping warm arms around his torso. And he'll pretend like everything is all right and compel her in the morning when she asks about last night.
He loves her, and he knows she loves him, and hopefully that's enough for now.
