He was 168 years old, to date. And never, did he ever stop to really think about this implication until now, as he sat on his couch, head reclined back, another glass of scotch dangling from his right hand. He looks up, watches the ceiling, the familiar gnawing of hunger at the pit of his stomach rising to the surface just slightly, before he takes another sip. You'd be surprised how much alcohol helps your everyday vampire, at least that much hasn't changed.

He's 168 years old. He's lived through both world wars and the Great Depression and even palled around with Winston Churchill once upon a time. He's seen so much and lived dozens of lifetimes. Time, in fact, isn't even a factor anymore. Years are like hours, days like seconds. And it just hit him, really hit him that this is his reality. That this is his eternal life.

He's 168 years old. Elena is 18. What makes her so special? What about those eyes, the replicated ones, scratched the surface of his apathy? She's so, so young. Practically an infant, compared to him. Yet, magically they somehow met in the middle. It struck him how he could just watch her grow old, and get married and be happy, because in the long run she will never live the life she wants with him. A woman born to care. To be compassionate and to love. He knew, and he's met billions of people in his unnatural lifetime enough to be an expert, he knew that she wouldn't be happy. That she couldn't be. She's like Stefan, he realizes. Simply someone who isn't suited to a life like his. The life of a killer.

Elena.

She was like water running through his hands. He's trying to catch as much of her as he can before she's lost in the ages. Until the next one with her face comes along. He contemplates waiting. Let Stefan have this one. It'll be a marginal loss, a loss he's already been so acquainted with, that the real surprise would be living without that tug constantly pulling at the pit of his stomach. But then he shakes his head to himself, dismissing the idea but not completely. Maybe the next one will be more amiable, maybe the next one will choose him.


She sighs. She contemplates moving away from Mystic Falls forever. "There are millions of fishes in the sea," her mother had once told her. She'd been 12, tangled among the sheets, dried tears plastering hair all over her face. She'd barely felt the ghosting of her mother's fingertips on her bowed back, the evidence of heart break so bright it was blinding. "Don't worry, hun. There are lots of guys out there. I'm sure Matt will come around." She shook her head then, another wave of tears shaking her. "But he's the only one I want!" She remembered hearing her mother chuckle, fueling her upset. And she hadn't understood it then.

How immature it seemed.
However, who said that she knew better now? What if this heart break and this impulse is simply a phase? One amongst many that she'd already experienced? She wished she had her mother with her once again, the light she followed whenever she was lost. The only one who'd been able to throw things into perspective, and to somehow pick up the pieces and arrange it in a way that actually made sense. But now she's alone; alone to wade through adolescence, and heart break. How does she know if what she's experiencing is real? Real enough to seriously consider sacrificing her life? A life? The fact that she was beginning to feel something for Matt once again scares her. Her fickleness frustrates her sometimes, but can you really help the meandering feelings of an eighteen year old girl?

The chiming of her ringtone jostled her out of her thoughts. The name 'Stefan' flashing through the screen. She decides to cover her thoughts, and storing it later. Because for now she's still young, for now they still love her, so she doesn't have to think yet.

Not yet.


HI guys (: So I'm kind of stuck with Hands of Fate, if it wasn't already obvious. And I've had so many plot bunnies running around that I continuously ignored because I just wanted to finish that fic. I wrote this awhile back whilst trying to get my creative juices flowing again, and though 'what the hell' so I posted it. (:

For now Hands of Fate is in hiatus since I'm starting something new, which would hopefully jolt me back to finishing that one.