He asks again; "Please, what is your name?"
The suit he wears is dark, a midnight blue that looks so out of place in the autumn sunshine you instinctively take a step back. He'd passed you on the street, a polite excuse me, touching your shoulder and then – he'd stopped. Stared at you like you had the answer to the question he'd been wondering all his life. You looked away; to the fallen leaves, dead, under your boot.
"Do I… know you?"
"No, no… I'm sorry," he almost smiles, pained, "I just need your name."
"It's… Y/N."
He nods, "Thank you."
And you watch as he walks away, slowly, methodically, without a glance backwards, content with a name and fallen leaves.
/
It's later that evening you see him again.
"Y/N! Can you get the door?"
"I'm not decent!" You say in to the mirror, loudly, so your grandma can hear downstairs.
"Just put a dressing gown on! Please, it might be my parcel."
Sighing, you push away from the vanity and pull on a robe. It's obnoxiously pink but feels like slipping back in to childhood every night. "Okay, I'm going!"
His midnight suit looks even darker against the deepening sky and you can't control the reddening of your skin in front of this handsome man.
"Y/N," he almost breathes your name; releasing it like an exhale. You shiver.
"Who are you?" You ask.
"My name's Elijah." His accent tugs at the ends of his name. "I understand this is unorthodox but I had to see you again."
Whoever this man is, he shouldn't be here. And yet, his hand is on the door – just as you move to close it.
"Please. I can explain myself…"
"You need to leave," you try to say but your voice is shaking under his stare, powerless.
"I'm a vampire, Y/N. I'm over a thousand years old and yet, I can't stop… thinking about you. Your name, your face… it…" he sighs, "But you won't remember any of this. If you see me again, you will walk away. Do you understand?"
Your head nods without your mind.
Elijah straightens, "Good."
And he leaves as silently as he did the first time, melting in to night and leaving you breathless with confusion, mystery and most dangerously, intrigue.
/
Your grandma had lived in Mystic Falls her whole life. It was a sleepy town with sleepy residents – those that were born here, died here too. Sad, in a way. Its people belonged to the walls, the forest, the other people – everything pooling in to everything. But then there were the vampires. Folklore, of course, but a folklore that, like Mystic Falls' inhabitants, was woven in to past and present.
And Elijah. The man aggressively played on your mind as you tried to sleep and crept in to your dreams. You awoke with a start, wiping your neck of the blood that left a pattern in your slumber. A vampire. You say it over and over as you walk to the Grill, dizzy with it. Ridiculous.
As always, the Grill was teeming with regulars; school kids, drunkards, friends and thinkers. Matt Donovan was sweeping through tables, a boy, Jeremy Gilbert, just behind him. He didn't look much like a boy anymore. Grown and yet, tired. You guessed losing both parents did that to a person – aged them, unwillingly.
"Y/N?"
Matt pulls you towards him in an embrace.
"I'm surprised you still remember me," you laugh.
"It's only been four years – you haven't changed that much."
"Rude," you say playfully, giving him a push. "So… how are things? What have I missed?"
His face pales. "A lot but… things are better now."
"You're just going to leave me with 'a lot'? Come on Matt, we were neighbours."
"Look, Y/N, it's great you're back and all but trust me, this is better left in the past."
"Right, I understand," you offer him a smile. "I'll catch up with you soon, okay?"
Matt smiles back but it feels strained. It seems the Mystic Falls you left behind, left you behind also.
/
You notice him almost immediately, leaning against a lamppost, watching. It thrills you, quiet and full of warning. Elijah. But when you risk a look again, it's just a lamppost. You snap your eyes shut to dissipate the teasing images in your mind.
And then you see him, walking, again, with lazy purpose, across the street. Mysteries have always frustrated you; answers are much more exciting. And this is why you follow.
Keeping to the slices of shadow cast by the main street windows, you walk several metres behind him. If he was dangerous, you wanted enough distance between him to run and if he wasn't, well, that was the answer you needed.
The street narrows in to a path; the avenues shifting to large houses – mansions even. It makes sense for the man in the suit to live here. 'Money Falls', that was what you and Matt used to call it: the perfect Trick or Treating target. Yet, as you continue walking, even the trick or treating houses seem modest compared to these estates. You can only imagine the lawns that sprawl beyond their marbled faces.
Elijah turns suddenly and you push back against a hedge. Missing your shadow, he disappears in to a driveway. You exhale –
"It didn't work."
The voice came from behind – rich and commanding.
"How-?" You stammer, turning to face him.
He chews on his cheek, regarding you. "The compulsion did not work. Why?"
"Compulsion… What do you mean compulsion?"
Elijah takes a step forward – you tense with the narrowed distance. "I think we should do this inside," he murmurs.
"Inside…?"
He raises his eyebrows. "Follow me, Y/N."
/
It's more like a palace than a house: a grand staircase, chandeliers, red velvet curtains hung in loose folds, draped from gold, stretched walls. Sensing your awe, Elijah clears his throat: "It's a little extravagant, I must admit."
"Now, now, brother. Is there even such a thing?"
You turn to see a man saunter in to the hallway – a wine glass in his hand. He looks momentarily surprised to see you before settling in to a smirk, "And who might you be?"
"I thought you were on a trip, Nicklaus," Elijah's voice echoes.
"I was… until I got bored. Travelling alone is so lonesome, don't you agree?"
Elijah does not say anything. You try to control your breathing.
Nicklaus laughs, "I can hear your lady friend's heart from here. She is quite lovely."
"Do not provoke me, brother."
"Provoke you? Oh, I wouldn't dream of that Elijah. I just want you to share." He smiles at you, predatory, and then, he's sniffing your neck. You freeze, utterly terrified now. Elijah animates, pushing the other man to the ground. He places a protective arm in front of you, and you can see the veins in his neck, gasping for release.
"Territorial, are we? But unlucky for you, I am bored." Klaus leaps towards you again, yanking your arm towards his mouth. In an instant, Elijah shoves you backwards against the wall. You wince, winded. The other man takes a step back, his eyes feral.
"Who is she?" He breathes.
Elijah shakes his head, enraged, "You do not touch her."
You place your hands on the cold wall behind you, steadying yourself. It feels too much to comprehend, collapsing atop your body, these men… not men at all.
Without looking up from his brother, Elijah speaks, "Y/N, you need to leave."
But you can't move.
"You're vampires, aren't you?" You breathe.
Elijah spins, appearing before you in a blur. "Yes. Which is why you need to leave."
"Because you want to kill me."
The danger in his stare dissipates almost immediately. The temper that dusted his gaze, now open and searching. "No, it's because not even a part of me wants to."
/
You spend the afternoon in your room. Vampires, the supernatural, Elijah, Klaus; reality has been dismantled and rebuilt with you, somehow, a fragment. You walked from the house for about ten minutes before hitching a lift with an old friend of your mum's, occupying the passenger seat in shaken silence.
"Y/N, come down and have some food."
"I'm not hungry, Grandma." You barely look away from the ceiling.
"Fair enough," she turns then pauses, "That boy called by the way."
You sit up, suddenly wired. "Did he have an accent?"
"An accent? No, honey, it was Matt." She raises her eyebrows, "He said he wants to catch up… Are you okay?"
You can't lie to your grandma, no one can. Choosing, instead, not to answer, you stand and attempt a smile. It feels wrong. "I'll go and see him now."
Talking to Matt was priority. If not for enlightenment, for some normalcy. He was always the anchor in the messiness of life in this town, and you for him – you don't think you'd ever not feel the twinge of guilt when you saw him. For being able to escape.
Turning down your old road is like revisiting a forgotten timeline. The oak tree you'd carved your name in to, the fence you'd got your first splinter from – it was all there, preserved, a time capsule. A part of you felt betrayed by the existence of vampires. How dare they come and re-write all that you knew? You left this town knowing it would never change. The reason why you left it.
You're just about to knock on Matt's door when you notice Elena Gilbert across the road. She is talking to someone – a man, you think – their back to you. He turns to walk away and you duck, immediately. Elijah disappears down an alley, leaving Elena frowning. You place a hand over your heart in an attempt to calm it.
"Elena!"
She looks over in your direction. You cross the road, urgent.
"Do you remember me?" you ask, stopping awkwardly in front of her, unsure of how to articulate.
"Wait, Y/N? Matt's neighbour?"
"Yeah, it's been a while."
She smiles, "It's good to see you."
You smile back as best you can. "I – er, I heard about your parents. I'm sorry."
Elena blinks, for a second, as though remembering. Like Jeremy, she wears a wearied, tired expression that shows through her smile.
You swallow, "Who was that man you were talking to?"
She almost catches her uncertainty in time. "Oh, just a family friend."
"This is going to sound crazy but, I think he's…. He's not safe, Elena."
Realisation draws across her face, "You must be the girl."
"What do you-"
"You have to come with me," Elena interrupts, grabbing your hand.
/
The car ride is short but threaded with the unspoken. Elena looks perturbed, glancing at you wearily every few moments. The truth you want is one you're afraid to ask. You settle for small talk instead.
"I'm guessing you and Matt are still together," you offer.
"What? Oh, no. We broke up a few years ago."
She stops the car before you can say anything else, announcing the arrival of another very large house, albeit not quite as ostentatious as Elijah's.
"Why are we here?" You ask tentatively.
"There are some people we need to speak too," she answers, opening the car door. "Come on."
She walks ahead to knock on the imposing looking front-door, dark and uninviting. You step out on to the gravel, check your phone is still in your back pocket, and run.
"Y/N!"
You hear her begin running after you.
"Y/N! Wait! It's not safe!" She pants, "Please, stop!"
But she hasn't caught up to you. If she were a vampire, she would have. You slow down, breathing heavily. Elena smiles, tentative.
"I know this is all really scary, but… you can't do it alone," she says carefully.
You stay silent.
"It's safer in the house, Y/N. Trust me."
You stare at her bewildered, "How do I know there aren't just going to be more vampires in there!?"
"She's right, Elena. You can never be too careful."
This time your heart leaps at the voice behind you, almost throwing you off balance.
"Damon!" Elena snaps.
The man smirks, arrogant, very, and the most striking man you have ever seen. It's startling. Damon settles comfortably in to your stare, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm afraid I am indeed a vampire, friend of Elena's. But I am one of the good ones. Now, at least," he grins.
Elena touches your shoulder, "He's not going to hurt you, Y/N."
"Y/N… pretty name for a pretty girl," Damon smiles and you have to look away.
"Damon...," Elena warns.
"I don't bite," he jokes, reaching for your hand in chivalry. For a moment, it falls helplessly in to his before he drops your fingers, as if burned. You glance up at him and he is staring at you with something like shock, only more tender.
Elena breaks the silence. "Stop being weird, Damon. Being a vampire is already freaking Y/N out enough."
He blinks, "Right. My bad... Let's head in, shall we?"