This one's for the lonely
The ones that seek and find
"Who are you?" The woman- girl, was more appropriate- sat on the floor by the fireplace with her legs crossed beneath her. She seemed unconcerned by Stefan who stood in the doorway, hesitant at the presence of the impish individual with auburn hair styled in a way that brought to mind the Roaring Twenties. Or the Ripper Twenties, in Stefan's personalized timeline.
"Elise," she said, lilting voice both girlishly light and quietly solemn. A child with an old soul and wide, mossy green eyes that observed him calmly. She was entirely unconcerned by the fact she had intruded into the home of a vampire currently coming down from a ripper binge.
"You seem familiar," Stefan said, "Do I know you?"
"Not really," she admitted, standing and allowing her pale gray sundress to float about her knees, "You did, however, kill me in 1923." She smiled then, a dazzling smile that made Stefan's stomach do a backflip. He remembered her now. Elise LaGrange of Chicago by way of Boston and New Orleans. Sixteen and impossibly dreamy with dresses that grazed her knees. Her family and moved from Paris the year before she'd been born and she always spoke of the country she'd never seen with a fondness that had captured Stefan's attention. But when they met in 1922, he hadn't been polite Stefan Salvatore who tipped his hat and held the door open for ladies before escorting them home. He'd been Ripper Stefan who murdered men and women in back alleyways and cars and sometimes tore their bodies to pieces.
"How did you survive?" She stepped around the couch, just as light on her feet as always, and touched the palm of his right hand. One pale finger traced the length of her thumb and her eyes softened as she was transported to a different place and time. It was the transformation that always occurred when she had spoken of Paris, it's lights and the beautiful people who danced in them.
"I bit your hand," she said, "Remember?" Stefan looked down at his palm and for a moment he could clearly see the delicate bite she had caused after he clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled her into an alleyway. An alleyway where he drained her and left her for dead. To think the drop of blood she pulled from his body had been enough to save her.
"I'm sorry," he said, but she stopped him, mossy eyes bright and smile situated on her face. Elise had always been the happy sort.
"Don't be," she said, "I went to Paris. Rome. Istanbul. I saw more of the world than I could ever dream and it's all because of you."
"I killed you." She sighed, a mere whisper as her smile melted into a pout as she did her best to frown. Her lips would never cooperate though and Stefan recalled teasing her on more than one occasion.
"Yes," she said, "You did kill me. You killed me and left me in an alleyway and completely ruined my dress. That was my favorite dress, I'll have you know. So if you'd like to continue apologizing, you can start with buying me a new dress. And then you can take me dancing like you promised."
The corner of his mouth quirked up and hers screwed up as she tried not to grin. She had won and she knew it because it was a rare occasion where Elise LaGrange did not get what she wanted. Especially when it came to Stefan Salvatore. He'd always been especially doting and fond of her.
"You remember that?" She grinned then, that radiant smile that had always made Stefan pause. He had known Elise before Klaus and Rebekah and while the Original duo had never understood his affection towards the young human, they had respected his request that she be left alone. To think he protected her against the Originals only to kill her himself.
"Apparently," she said, "A vampire never forgets. But you forgot about me, so I suppose that is not true." She shrugged, a delicate raise of the shoulder before stepping around him. He clutched her arm, fingers resting featherlight at the crook of her elbow in an attempt to tether her to the moment for just a little bit longer. Elise paused because she'd never wanted to escape Stefan and that realization caused him to clutch at her just a little harder. Maybe if he held onto her, he wouldn't be the one to runaway.
"I still owe you a dance," he said. He was rewarded with a smile and for just a moment, everything was alright in the world again.
a/n: Just wanted to say that the lyrics in italics at the beginning of every chapter are from the song "Comes and Goes" by Greg Laswell. There's only about eight or nine parts to this story, so we'll be done in no time. As always, fave, flame, or faint.
oxox.
