"So, you don't remember what it used to feel like when we would dance? And my hand would touch your waist?"
"No."
"How about this? When our fingers would touch?"
"Nothing."
"And this. Does your heart really refuse to remember?"
Elena froze, but somehow kept moving closer to Stefan. Her heart slowly changing its mind, and every ounce her body trying to ignore it, fighting. She had not forgotten, how could she? She could recall every single memory, every single word being said, every single kiss..
After the Mikaelson party, when they had stood outside her house, he had told her why he wouldn't let the feelings take over once more. "If I let myself feel, all I feel is pain." She didn't fully understand. Of course, love was the dominating emotion he would let back in. Hadn't Elena convinced him of that?
Now she knew, that he had been honest, that what he said was completely true. With love comes pain so easily, too easily. If she moved out of this dark cloud she was drowning in, Stefan's love and understanding would not make everything okay again. At least, not immediately. It would be guilt that held her tight.
Eventually, their heads would be so close together, that their noses would briefly touch. It was too late now, she knew that. Stefan knew that. Elena was now swimming in the sea of every feeling she had ever felt. Her eyes were not cold and emotionless anymore, they were fragile. Tears filled up here lungs, she couldn't breath. But her eyes stayed dry. It was all inside her again, the sound of Jeremy's head hitting the cage-ground, the warmth of the flames that had killed her house, inch by inch. It was all her fault. Guilt. She had hurt so many people. Regret. Nothing could fix it. Pain.
"Please make it stop," Elena whispered, her voice shaking. She was obviously not thinking anymore. It was all wrong, but it felt so right. Damon was probably somewhere, watching everything. It wasn't fair to him. But – was it fair to anyone?
"I will." Stefan gently untangled their hands, to hug her, and she didn't fight it. She hided her face in his suit, but did not cry. She refused to look more weak than she already did, plus, this was prom. Now that she was somewhat normal again, she wanted to enjoy it.
Reluctantly, Elena took a tiny step away from the man she never wanted to let go of, straightened her spine and placed a hand on Stefan's back. He understood. For, what seemed like days, they just danced. There was a certain depth in their eyes, like they didn't have to speak to know what each other were thinking. They just knew. That was the result of being with someone for so long. Elena was not questioning the fact that pain truly had taken over her heart and soul, now that she had turned her humanity back on, but right there, for a few hours, she was able to put it aside. It was him, and only him, she could think of. A million kisses were not enough to show how much they loved each other.
So they had a lot of work to do.