My frustration was seething.

And as I watched her glide solemnly around her room through her window, she seemed tense. She paced back and forth, stopping mid step to close her eyes and breathe. What could possibly be worrying her at a time like this?

Everything was settled; not a scratch had been forced against her; not a threat was pushed her way. Now that Klaus was gone, it seemed as if all of her worries should be diminished by an unraveling sense of bliss. But she wasn't giddy, nor did she seem content and I could tell by the gleam in her dark russet eyes; she was dejected.

The temptation to enter her room was exhausting me, yet I continued to keep my head tilted to the side, examining her every move from a safe distance. This was my second night here from my arrival last week; no one had known I was back yet. Not even my own siblings, but I had to check in on her; to make sure she was safe.

But how would I explain the reason for my departure and my arrival? That I had fled to various countries because my affection for, yet another, Petrova was overpowering my emotions, my thoughts and my strength? No. I wouldn't let it be known to anyone; I would not consider holding a reputation of what I once believed in. As far as my family knew, I was still bitter towards the idea of love.

But there she was; a Petrova descendant, and I seemed to be falling in love with her through an open window.

I couldn't be, no. That was impossible. I had not known her long enough nor have I experienced the trials in her life alongside of her; but I have experienced sorrow and I figured that was enough.

The Doppelganger.

The Petrova's Curse.

Katerina's words rang throughout my mind, leaving an essence of memories in its path. I internally shouted, pushing all images of Katerina, Tatia and Elizabeth from my conscious and focused on Elena as she finally collapsed on her bed, placing her face into her hands.

Guilt struck my chest; I shouldn't be here. I have caused her enough grief.

But as her eyes watered, gleaming against the reflection of the porch's light, I grimaced realizing her loneliness. Her parents; gone.

Alaric, dead.

And Jeremy…deceased.

Swallowing my pride, I managed to pull myself together. In a sudden movement, I had already unlatched the door to the Gilbert's home, fled up the familiar stairs and stood face to face with her bedroom door. When I reached for the handle, the extract against the knob burned my hand leaving me in a somber amount of pain; I gasped softly, rubbing my hand and knitting my eyebrows together when I noticed the vervain stinging against my skin.

She was taking precautions.

With a sigh, I rolled my eyes. I hadn't wanted to make this a larger deal then it already had become. It was foolish for me to be here, desperately attempting to win the heart of a Petrova. I swallowed dryly.

I finally convinced myself I was doing no good by standing outside of her bedroom door. "Elena?" I muttered, slightly knocking twice.

Her sniffling had diminished as my knock seemed to echo throughout the empty home. "Elijah?" She squeaked.

I smiled to myself. "Yes and there seems to be a hint of vervain on your door handle." I replied, smoothly. I shoved my scolded hand into my pocket, feeling the ashing skin flake off as it rubbed against the fabric of my jacket.

"Oh, right, sorry." She sniffed again, her voice closer to the door. "Hold on."

When I saw her face, it seemed perkier than I had noticed from my peeping earlier. At first, I wondered if it was because of my entering, but of course, I pushed the thought away suddenly feeling extremely arrogant. If I knew her well enough, she was afraid to express how she truly felt and that made me…miserable.

"You're back," Was the first thing she said as I crossed her room to the recognizable window seat. She folded her arms, standing in front of me, her lips pursed and her eyes puffy. I noticed the redness around the rims of her dark orbs and frowned noticeably.

"I am," I replied. "And you don't seem to be doing any better." I mumbled, watching as she bit her lip and shook her leg as if she was edgy. I examined her as I waited for her reply with a raised eyebrow.

"Paranoid," She corrected. She sighed, plopping down against her mattress. "There's something else out there…" She whispered, her eyes boring a hole into her carpet, staring at nothing. "It doesn't end this easy, Elijah."

I watched her expression, fearful, and her eyes were frail. She seemed thinner and bags hung underneath her eyes as if she hadn't gotten a good night's rest in quiet awhile. I tilted my head down to my chest, saying nothing.

Because she was right; nothing ended this way. Not for us.

I silently muttered a slight curse word at the sudden discomfort from my scolded hand; I somewhat pulled it out, only so much to where I could see the damage that had been caused. Elena, as perspective as she is, noticed the scald.

"Elijah, I'm so sorry." She apologized while walking towards me; she casually situated herself beside me as she touched my forearm. I felt a string of electricity flow throughout my body when she touched my hand, pulling it from my pocket. I reluctantly, yet effortlessly, let her take it. "How much does it hurt?"

"I'll manage," I barely breathed as she stroked her fingertips along my skin.

Elena didn't say anything, still biting her bottom lip. She continued to inspect my healing hand before it finally shed itself a new layer of skin, leaving no trace of a vervain burn behind. Elena gasped, pulling her fingers away and then smirked up towards me. I returned her with a simper and twisted my hand.

"No harm done." I said.

Elena's expression declined, as did the scar against my palm. A few moment of silence passed before she croaked, "Elijah," In a feeble voice. So weak, in fact, that if it was possible, my heart would have sank to my toes. I felt a hint of exhaustion in her voice as she slowly blinked.

I continued to gaze into her eyes, watching my reflection from her tears. "Yes, Elena?" I speculated, tenderly.

Elena's lips quivered. "Please don't leave me alone again." She whimpered.

And in that moment, I realized that I had loved her.

I took her in my arms, and placed my hand against the back of her head while kissing her forehead. Tears welled in my eyes as she slowly sobbed into my chest, her tears staining the front of my shirt.

None of that mattered, now.

She was limp in my hold and I could feel her heart beating, her pulses vibrating; her breath cascaded against my neck and her fingers braided themselves in my hair. She kept muttering, "I'm becoming weak," And occasionally, "I've hurt so many people."

"Elijah, I'm sorry," She sniffed, pulling back. She wiped her hands against my shirt as I reluctantly let her go.

I shook my head. "Don't apologize, Elena." I whispered, wiping a hand through her hair.

She tried to smile, but failed before she noticed my tears. She leaned forward and smeared her finger along my cheek, then let her hand fall flat against it, caressing my skin with her thumb. I closed my eyes.

"Why are you crying?" She asked, solemnly.

My lips formed into a taut line, trying to smirk. "I just don't like to see you this way," I stated, leer diminishing. I watched as her eyes flickered to my lips before finally, she slid on her knees, scooting into my lap where she buried her face into the crook of my neck.

There was a long moment of silence where I continued to hold her and hushing her gently before she finally took my face in her hand, her eyes wet with tears. "Promise me, you'll stay." She mumbled. "Promise me, Elijah."

I made no hesitation. "I promise you, Elena."

And I kept my word.

I always did.