Chapter 3 – The Broken (Follow me IChooseStefan)

ELENA's POV

I can't catch my breath. My entire body is shaking and my God I think my brain is going to explode within the confines of my skull. The bathroom is farther away then I remember and it seems to take me forever to get to it, closing the door behind me.

Finally safe – away from him, away from his questions – I lean against the door as I feel my legs giving way. Slowly sliding down to the floor, I grasp at my ring – fisting my left hand and covering it with my right as I hold them against my chest - I can't hold back the tears any more.

Stefan is right. I don't know what he's right about, but I know he's telling me the truth – I know he's the only person who's willing to tell me the truth. This ring, it's the second most precious thing in my life; Second only to my beautiful Allie. What's funny is I don't know where I got it, I don't know how much it cost or what kind of metal it is or when I got it… I have no idea. My first memory of it was while I was pregnant with Allie.

I was about to take a shower and just happened to notice it. I didn't think anything of it until I started to take it off and something inside of me told me no. Something inside of me knew that this ring is priceless. I started to ignore my conscience, but the moment my fingers grasped the metal and tugged I had my first panic attack. I started shaking and crying and sobbing…

When Stefan asked me for it I was appalled at the thought of taking it off, but more than that I was shocked that he'd pay it any attention. Then the questions… my suspicions about Stefan Salvatore are right – if there is anyone who is going to tell me the truth about my missing memories, it's him.

Can this really be happening? Have Bonnie and Jeremy and Matt been lying to me all of this time? Why? Why would they do this? The thought of my only family deceiving me for the past four years wounds me deeply – I can't remember ever feeling so broken and alone.

I can't keep living like this – hollowed and burnt to numbness. This isn't living. I'm tired of waiting to feel whole again. I'm so tired of the constant falling down and each time I just go lower and lower. I've missed so much while wallowing in my self-pity. Allie deserves someone stronger… I don't want to give up, I want to keep going but I just don't think I have it in me. Not now. Now that I know that I've been tricked and misled – a fool, too weak to handle the truth, to handle real life. I'm just weighing everyone down…

I shake my head, rub my fists to my eyes roughly wiping at the tears that won't stop. I need to calm down, I need to be still. It's involuntary when I move to my hands and knees, reaching to grab my purse from the lavatory. I just need to calm down. I can figure this out. I can work through all of this… I just need to calm down.

I sit back on my calves, dumping the pills into my palm; there's at least four Valium… I shake a few more out of the bottle and toss the lot into my mouth. The mineral taste is bitter but comforting at the same time. I don't need water to take the pills down, I've done this so many times before, yet there are quite a few in my dry mouth and I am still bawling - I'm struggling to swallow when I feel Stefan's arm quickly wrap around my waist and he lifts me completely in the air, my back against his chest. My legs don't even have time to straighten before his fingers are in my mouth – searching and scooping the pills from my tongue. I squirm; kicking and biting at his fingers but it doesn't stop him. Now empty, he shoves his hand further in my mouth – turning us towards the bathtub just as my gag reflex reacts and I convulse in his arms, throwing up the pills I've swallowed and the sandwich and water I'd consumed.

The heaving is violently racking through my body. Once, twice, three times… I lose count, nearly lose consciousness – my vision blurring and head swimming wildly.
I don't notice until later that he's set me on my knees and is kneeling next to me on the bathroom floor; holding back my hair with one hand and the other resting on my lower back as I empty my stomach into the pedestal tub.

Exhausted, completely and utterly spent, I'm limp against the cool porcelain – my arms hanging over the side and my forehead pressed against the smooth ceramic. Satisfied that I'm through vomiting, Stefan gently lays my hair against my back and I hear him begin to go through my purse, looking for my pills. I start crying again when I hear the sound of him emptying my medicine into the toilet. My heart breaks when I hear him suck in a breath through his teeth – he's found the plastic bag of Adderall that I bought from a girl on campus. Even though my body is completely disoriented, I can feel his disappointment. I sink lower, wish that I could fold into myself and disappear.

"What is this, Elena?" His voice sounds as broken as I feel.

When I don't answer him, I hear the plastic rustling as he opens the bag and I panic – quickly turning and trying to grab it from his hands. He reacts faster than I can move and my fingers close around nothing but air. "Please, Stefan. Don't throw those away." Begging him, I try again, moving closer to him, taking hold of his shirt to steady myself as I strain to reach the bag of pills in his hand extended far from his body.

"Elena!" I'm almost climbing over him, my right knee between his, my chest pressing against his chest as I try to get the bag from him. Stefan's right arm is wrapped tightly around my waist and I can't break free – but I'm pulling at his left arm, sobbing and begging and it's no use, he's too strong and I'm too weak. "Elena, stop!" Tossing the bag in the corner of the bathroom furthest away from us, he takes my face in his hands – he doesn't care that my cheeks are wet from tears and snot. "Stop." He says quietly as I focus on his eyes… so green, so beautifully dark and mesmerizing, familiar.

As my shaky breathing slows, we're still facing one another, still looking into one another's eyes. With gentle strokes of his thumbs, Stefan wipes the wetness from my cheeks – I close my eyes, overwhelmed with the gentleness of his touch. When he takes his right hand from my face, I open my eyes again, terrified that he's leaving me – instead, he uses his fingers to wipe the corners of my mouth, brushes down my hair with his fingertips.

Stefan is no monster. Stefan is not evil. I don't know what I was thinking, lost in the fog that seems to be ever present in my mind… of every person on earth, Stefan Salvatore is the last person I should be scared of. I have no memories to reinforce my thoughts, but in this moment, the way he's touching me, caring for me – the sweet kindness in his warm eyes, I can see how I could love him.

"You don't need those." Stefan whispers to me, he brow furrowed as he inspects my face.

I shake my head – he doesn't understand. They are all that keep me from going completely insane. "I do, Stefan. Please don't throw them away. I need them." I start to turn my head, I just need the comfort of seeing them, but his strong hands hold my head in place.

"Look at me." I struggle, "Look at me, Elena." It's no use, I'm too tired to fight, so I do as he says and look at him. He's so beautiful – his Roman face and leaf green eyes. "You do not need them. I promise you, you can do this. You can get through this." I feel warm tears rolling down my cheeks again – he's putting too much faith in me, I think. "I'll help you Elena. You can do this, okay? I promise you we can do this."

Somehow I know he's being honest when he tells me he'll help me. Somehow I know he'll keep his promise. I fall into him, my arms clinging to his neck and shoulders like he's a life preserver and I've been drowning for the past four years.

STEFAN's POV

After I threw those pills in the toilet, I cleaned the bathtub so Elena could shower – counting nine pills that she threw up. I don't know if she was trying to kill herself or if she was wanting to numb herself to the point of unconsciousness, but those nine plus the five I dug out of her mouth would have been enough to put her into an overdose.

While she showered I went through her purse just to put myself at ease. I didn't find anything else, so I went down to my car and got the blankets. By the time I got back to her apartment she was out of the shower and wearing the pajamas I bought her. The smell of her shampoo, the kind she's always used, it lifted my spirits somehow – maybe because it reminded me of the Elena I used to know.

I haven't slept at all though Elena fell fast asleep curled into a small ball against me. I would never have left her, but it wasn't my idea to lay here with her. How could I tell her no when she asked me to hold her? I don't want to take advantage of Elena, so as soon as I felt her body relax and her breathing fell shallow, I rolled to my back – she fell asleep with my right arm beneath her head and her hands holding tightly to mine.

I've been laying here praying. I haven't prayed in years… a long, long time. It felt odd at first, silently speaking to a deity that I haven't been a good follower of even though I've never lost the faith that my mother taught me. It's just that it's been close to two-hundred years since I've felt worthy of God. Elena, however, she is deserving of His grace, worthy of His help… I don't know if she's in her right mind, if she's turned to Him or not so I will do it for her. I've heard that one should not bargain with God, but I don't have much else to offer him besides swearing off human blood forever. I swore to Him that if He'd help Elena, I will never drink another drop of human blood. Believe me, I realize how big of a promise that is to keep, but if there is any reason in the world that will keep me on path, hold me to my word, it's Elena. After a couple hours of begging God to be with her, help her find her way, hold Elena's hand as she tries to make it through what I am sure is going to be a sad, dark time, it began to feel natural and safe, so I just kept silently talking – I covered everything from my missing my Mother and Father and Damon to asking for help for an author I really like and want to help get him published. It was nice, unloading like that.

The eastern sky is turning pink with the sunrise and to be honest, I'm thankful for the day. I can fight a few vampires, I can take down werewolves and hybrids and a whole host of Originals if I have to… but I am feeling a little lost and very scared of this villain… the drugs, her depression – I know it's all as a result of the compulsion, but I have no idea how to fix it. The darkness of night only made the situation seem even more threatening and I'm hoping that I'll get a little more sturdy in the sunlight.

I turn my head to look at Elena and find her looking right at me – I'm startled. Her eyes are still sleepy, slightly red around the edges with heavy eyelids, her hair somewhat unruly from going to bed with it still wet. It hurts my bones that she's so beautiful, yet broken.

Words seem out of place somehow – like it's too early in the morning or maybe too soon after what we experienced last night – we don't speak. I like looking at her. I like that she's looking at me. I'm encouraged by the softness of her gaze and relaxed smile of her mouth – this is the closest that she's been to the Elena of years past since I saw her in the conference room at work. When I feel her hand coming to face, I don't stop her though I wonder if I should have when her fingertips touch my lips. It's instinct, kissing her fingers. Elena watches my lips as I watch her eyes. When she grazes her nails through the hair above my ear, brushing it back, I close my eyes – she has no idea that she's just broken my heart with her gentle touch. That exact motion, this same sensation is the last thing I can remember feeling when I suffocated in my blood on that bridge in Rome. I hope that she doesn't see the tear fall from the corner of my eye.

It's unfair that she and I have had to go through the kind of hell we've experienced – over and over being ripped apart, shredded and mangled. Elena doesn't deserve this kind of pain. It's all my fault – I understand that I am the bearer of all the weight, but it doesn't change the fact that I cannot stop loving her. Maybe I'm being selfish, I don't know, but I know I can't leave now. My plan of leaving for Dallas after this weekend dissolved when I promised her I'd help her. Wrong or not, I'll love Elena until my last moment on this Earth. I don't care that being with her is just going to make it harder on me when I have to lose her… it doesn't matter. I've given her my word and made promises to her, promises made over many years through tears and through blood. She is my soul.

"I know that I am supposed to hate you." Her voice is barely a whisper, barely able to be heard by human ears. "I just don't think I can." Those words wouldn't sound like much to anyone else, but for me there as close to hearing her tell me she loves me as I am going to get. I flex every muscle, hold my breath, try to keep myself from filling my desire. My body wants to hold her. My lips want to kiss her. I can feel myself giving way to my thoughts of her body tangled with mine so I sit up. I need to put distance between us. Putting my weight on one arm and bending my leg, I start to get up off of the pallet we're laying on when Elena grabs arm. I look back at her laying on the blanket– inspecting her deep brown eyes when she says, "You can kiss me. If you want."

I'm not sure if she even finishes her words before my lips find hers, my fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face to me. Her lips fit against mine like a puzzle piece, her full bottom lip perfectly curved to be enveloped between mine. We don't move for a long moment – I wonder if she can feel the gravity between us, the frequency that we've shared since the day I met her. When I move back, just an inch or so, I want to kiss her again, but I know that it's got to be her choice. It seems like an excruciating long time before she closes the space between us and kisses me again. I've had many years to long for her kiss, for the gentle friction of her tongue against mine… I would have waited a hundred years to experience this. She kisses me softly, pulls away, hovers close to my lips before kissing me again - sucking my bottom lip into her mouth a bit, her tongue grazing against it before I meet her movements. I'm concerned that if I take over, take the lead and set the pace that it'll go too far, I know what I want – so I stay still, let Elena decide how far she wants this to go. My hand moves to her neck, into her hair and she kisses me deeper – I can't hold myself back, I'm losing every ounce of strength I have each time her lips slip against mine. Just as I decide I can't take it anymore, start to give in and take over, she turns her face away, breaking our kiss – she's out of breath. Elena's hand comes to my face, slips through my hair and pulls me down to her – hugging me, my lips kiss her neck. She gives a little laugh, "I had a feeling you were an excellent kisser… at least I got that right."

I smile, let my hand move down her neck, grazing down her arm and removing her hand from my hair as I sit up on my elbow. She's still wearing my ring. I hold her fingers, kiss her knuckles, kiss the ring.

"Tell me about the ring." Elena's eyes are focused and clear in the dim, blue gray daylight.

I inhale deeply, trying to buy myself some time. I don't know if I can talk about it. I don't know if she's going to believe me. I'm not sure if I can handle that. "I gave it to you."

"It's an engagement ring?" She asks like she already knows the answer. I nod, bite my lip as I recall her face when she stepped off of the elevator into the lobby – already wearing her wedding dress – beautiful and so happy… unbroken. "I'm sorry that I can't remember."

I sit up so I don't have to face her. Close my eyes tightly, wonder if I'll ever see that girl again… the girl that knew she loved me. Standing, I pop my neck, then extend my hand to her. "Come on, let's get you something to eat."

ELENA's POV

We haven't said much since we talked about the ring this morning. I'm feeling more and more embarrassed about how I fell apart last night and I can tell that he's exhausted. I'm already on my second cup of coffee and have nearly finished an orange cranberry muffin when Stefan comes back to the table. After ordering our muffins and coffees, he stepped outside and stood on the sidewalk to make a phone call. I took a seat near the window – I guess I did it so I could watch him. I hope he doesn't realize I was observing him for the length of his phone call.

"It's good huh?" He motions to the one-bite left of my muffin. "I don't live too far from here and when I run in the mornings I make a stop by for the muffins."

Smiling at the thought of him running, I lean over to him and fake whisper, "You're a vampire…"He doesn't need to exercise or eat muffins.

"What can I say… I'm sucker for human food." When he sits he tucks his cell phone into his back pocket and I can't help but ask.

"Was that the girlfriend?" He nods, sipping at his black coffee. "Did you tell her your old friend from Mystic Falls lost her mind last night and you had to stay over and sleep in the floor?"

I guess it's too soon to joke about it because he gives me a stern look, his eye brows knitted together. "Not funny." He says. "But no, I didn't tell her about you."

I find that odd – I feel like Stefan is an honest guy, keeping me from his girlfriend feels out of character. "Why?"

He shrugs, "She didn't ask."

I consider his response and it makes sense I guess. Outside of a coffee shop at seven in the morning doesn't seem like the right place to bring up spending the night at another girl's apartment without being directly asked.

We go back to our silence for a bit and it's comfortable, just being with him. I am sure he notices me inspecting him, but he keeps his eyes on his food as I look him over. He's really something… my mind goes back to a class I took my sophomore year – Greek and Roman History. The chiseled jaw, hard cut shoulders, arms, and chest muscles, long and lean frame; if it were possible for the Disc Thrower to come alive, it would be Stefan's sculpture-like body. He's wearing his white-ribbed tanktop, what was his undershirt before I threw up on his blue button-up - the tight cotton fabric doesn't leave much to the imagination.

"Thank you." I don't feel like I have to thank him, or apologize even, but I want him to know that I appreciate what he did last night. He nods again. I wish he'd talk. Tell me what's going on in his head. I believe him, that at one point I was in love with him – I can only imagine how terrible this situation must be from his point of view. I guess that's why I let him kiss me this morning. I mean, he's gorgeous and there was an obvious tension between us… in another life I would have kissed him, maybe more. But the truth is I let him kiss me because I knew he wanted to and I felt like he'd earned as much.

When he nods again, I understand that he doesn't want to talk about last night, not yet, and go back to my curiosity about his girlfriend. "What's she like?"

"My girlfriend?" Stefan asks like he has no idea why I'd bring her up. This time I nod – pushing him to talk. "Um," He scrunches up his face, looks up at the ceiling, to the art on the walls. "I don't know. I mean… what do you want to know?"

"What does she look like?"

He frowns, "Blonde, medium height, green eyes, same age as you – vampire." He shrugs again and I decide to dig deeper. I want to know Stefan… if I knew him and loved him once, then I should get to know him again.

"How long have you been together?"

"One and off for two or three years, I guess."

"Does she love you?" He narrows his eyes when I ask this – I'm not sure why questions about his girlfriend are making him uncomfortable.

"In a way."

I roll my eyes, "What does that mean?" When Stefan pops his neck, clears his throat, I can tell I should probably leave the topic alone – but I don't. "Do you love her?"

Stefan leans back in his seat, eyes on the table as he turns his paper coffee cup in a circle with his thumb and middle finger. "Come on, Elena. It's too early for this."

"So you love her but she doesn't love you?" I try, getting a little aggravated by his evasiveness.

He looks at me, square in the face, lips pursed. Stefan is frustrated. I wonder if it's from sleeping on the floor or the girlfriend-issue. "Are we back to twenty questions?" His voice is light, playful, so I smile, popping the last bit of muffin in my mouth - I slept wonderfully and have no problem discussing her. "It's not like that between us. She and I, we have this… understanding, if you will. I know she's holding out for someone else. She knows how I –" He pauses, looks away from me. "She knows about you."

On his exterior, Stefan is strong and confident – looking at him you can see he's got it all together, he emits an aura of classic style, intelligence, and assertiveness – but his eyes are telling. Something about the grass green specs shinning in contrast with the olive color of his iris, maybe it's the deep evergreen boarder – I don't know, but I can see in his eyes that he's vulnerable.

"Is he human? The someone else that she's waiting for?"

His expression tells me he's not being completely honest when he answers, "He's comatose."

"I can tell you're lying." My words come out of my mouth like I'm surprised – I am, really. I hardly know Stefan yet I'm able to read him like a book.

Stefan smiles at me – this bright, proud smile - it's a beautiful sight. "I'm sure you can. You know me very well."

I feel victorious – it's stupid I know, I can't remember much about him, about us, but I like that at some point in my life this man was mine… deep inside me, I'm electrified with the thought that in an instant, Stefan would give himself to me all over again. I know he wants me and the darkest parts of me like knowing that I have power over him. This strong, unbreakable, immortal man bends only for me.

"Tell me about us."

Stefan takes a long drink of his coffee and I figure he's getting his thoughts together. "I will. I'll answer any questions you have; I just don't think we should get into all of that right now." He's worried about me; I can see it in those telling eyes of his. "Besides, the moving truck should be here soon and I need to get some things done before the gala tonight."

Stefan's change of subject works – I don't realize that he's tabled my question until much later in the morning. "Gala?"

He furrows his brow at me. "Jennifer didn't tell you? Robert wants you there." I shrug, shake my head – this is the first I've heard of a gala that I'm expected to attend. "It's a fundraiser, for North Carolina's literacy program – black tie."

"I have nothing to wear to a black tie fundraiser gala." I sigh, frustrated – my heart beginning to race. My first responsibility as co-editor for Paestum Publishing and I'm going to fail… of course. My nerves start to give, my fingers tremble on the table top. I need a valium and knowing that I don't have any and cannot get a prescription for them really sets fire to the panic attack. My lungs start to hurt at the same time my lips begin to shake – I can feel the burn of tears forming in my eyes.

Stefan takes hold of my shaking hand. "Hey, it's fine." Gently squeezing my fingers, I look at his hand enveloping mine, then to his eyes. "There are some nice shops in town; we can find something for you. You look amazing in anything, so it won't be hard." The combination of his joke and his laugh make me smile through my anxiety. "Seriously, this is nothing. Okay?" I breathe in and out slowly – keep my eyes locked with Stefan's as it seems to be helping me calm down… they really are a beautiful shade of green.

I nod, swallowing. "Okay."

"There will be a lot of people there, so you and I will just blend in. Robert never goes to these things and I wouldn't be surprised if Jennifer skips out on it, too. A top forty band is playing and she's is more of a Slipknot kind of girl."

Nearly completely calm, I'm surprised at how quickly my panic attack resided and laugh at the thought of Jennifer head-banging in a mosh-pit somewhere – she was wearing a vintage yellow sundress and had the look of an off-beat hipster when I met her at my interview.

The feeling between us changes somehow, morphing into a whole different kind of atmosphere the longer we look into each others eyes – maybe it's his boyish smile or the way our fingers lace together like a muscle-memory – the friendly, upbeat quality is quickly replaced with something thicker, more electric. When I feel the core of my body aching to move to him, I remember that push/pull sensation I experienced when I found him on the other side of my door last night. It's forceful and hard to resist, especially when he cocks his head to the side a bit, parting his lips just so. I feel my fingers start to shake again but I know its not panic – I want him. I want him badly. My nerves are tingling with such ferocity that I almost do not feel the vibration of my phone against my hip until Stefan's eyes leave mine and he looks towards the buzzing sound.

It runs through my mind to just let it go, I don't want to lose this moment – it feels so good, heavenly and innocent and sinful all at the same time – but the mother in me wonders if it's something to do with Allie. The instant my hand leaves Stefan's the electricity is gone and I miss it immediately. The way Stefan sits back in his seat, rolls his head from side to side tells me he feels the same way.

I read my text message with muddied thoughts of what could've happened had my cell not interrupted Stefan and I. "It's from the moving company. They are fifteen minutes away."

Stefan stayed at Elena's apartment long enough to make sure the movers were no threat and that they had everything under control. Leaving her was strangely difficult for him. He knew that he'd see her in a couple of hours – once he picked up his suit, hunted, and showered – but it had been a long night and Stefan's love for Elena somehow grew even deeper by sunrise.

Caroline made it to Dallas safely. During their conversation before breakfast he told her that he wouldn't be joining her on Monday as originally planned. Blaming it on work, Caroline bought it without too much push back. She knew Stefan was loyal to Robert Dexter, he considered him a friend even, and if Robert asked Stefan to stay longer to train a replacement, it wasn't surprising that Stefan would agree. That lie was easy to get away with. What he was finding more and more difficult to get around was Elena's questions about his girlfriend… about Caroline. The only thing he knew for certain about Damon's compulsion was that he specifically mentioned Caroline being with the Originals. Remembering the way Elena reacted when she remembered Stefan's fall from grace, the months he lived out his ripper ways, he was terrified about how she would react if she believed he was dating her enemy, Caroline. Stefan knew he'd have to tell her eventually; continuing to lie to her would only make her reaction worse.

Sitting on his bed, freshly showered and full from his hunt, Stefan thought about how the tables had turned and he was now the strong hold, Elena the one needing saved. He'd not been sure of himself at first, but the more time he spent with her he was gaining more confidence in their connection. There had been multiple times where he could see Elena chipping away at the compulsion – it would take time, but one day, he was sure she would find her memories of him. It was good that she wanted to know the truth, wanted him to answer her questions – but Stefan knew he would have to approach much of their story cautiously. This Elena, though he loved her deeply no matter what form she was in, was not the Elena he was accustomed to. Strong and resilient, controlled and steadfast. This Elena was harder to follow, her reactions more difficult to predict. He hated to even think it, but she was weakened. Weakened

Inhaling deeply, letting his lungs stretch to full capacity, the ache of his sore muscles from his run helping him focus, Stefan put on his blue cap and stood. She is weaker; he thought as he fastened his belt and straightened the fabric of his grey tee-shirt, but it doesn't matter, I'll stay with her until she's strong again. It doesn't matter how long it takes.

When Stefan pulled up to the curb in front of The Market Street Lofts, Elena was just coming out of the lobby. He recognized the brown canvas messenger back – she'd had it since her trip to Spain. It was nice to see small reminders of his old Elena, though if he were to be honest about it, he enjoyed this Elena too. He wanted her to be stronger, yes, but the time they spent together he was in the moment –not longing for Elena of old.

"Everything make it in one piece?" Stefan turned his face away from her, fighting a smile as she bent to sit in his low-riding Mustang – Elena was wearing a short sundress; white with a lime green paisley print, and his car sat low enough that if he'd kept his eyes on her he could have seen further up her dress than she would approve of.

The moment she got in her seat, Elena pulled at the length of her dress, cutting her eyes to Stefan and wondering how much he saw of her before he turned away. It had been a while since she'd been out with anyone other than Matt, but Elena wasn't naive to the point that she couldn't read the silly smile on Stefan's face as he pulled out onto the road. "From what I can tell."

He could feel her eyes on him and turned to look at her, finding her smiling at him with a knowing look on her face. "What?" He laughed.

Elena sighed with false exasperation, "Nothing! I did it to myself by wearing this dress I guess."

Stefan wanted badly to lay his hand on her thigh, but settled for resting it on the gear shift between them. "That is a perfect dress. I love it. You should wear it every time you are planning on getting in or out of my car." He teased. Elena noticed how his eyes seemed to glitter in the mid-day sunlight, lightened by the day to the color of summer grass.

Playful Stefan – Elena rolled her eyes at the thought of all the different versions of him that she'd seen… Caring Stefan while he helped her last night, Professional Stefan at her interview, Friend Stefan when he showed up with her care package and sandwiches - she wondered what Sexy Stefan would be like. Elena recalled the kiss they'd shared at dawn; the way it took her breath away… realizing she'd been quiet too long, her eyes still inspecting him, watching his lips, she blurted out the first thing she could think of. "What happened to your Lexus?"

Stefan's heart nearly stopped – "My Lexus?" The Lexus he's purchased in Miami. Moving his eyes from the road to her face, back to the road, he was taken aback. "How do you…" Swallowing hard and turning down the already low volume of the radio, "I don't understand, what's the last memory you have of me?" Elena's face told him she wasn't sure where he was going, why he's suddenly become tense and serious. "You shouldn't remember that car, Elena." Realizing that "shouldn't" was a bad way of phrasing it – unaware of being compelled, Elena wouldn't understand the parameters of what she was forced to forget. Trying to cover his slip up, Stefan added "I mean, that was during your freshman year."

Elena didn't catch it, but was happy that she'd remembered part of something she'd lost. "It's not like that really. I mean, it's not like a time line. I just have bits and pieces and a lot of it I can't place in any specific situation. I just remember things, not memories…"

Stefan was quiet for a long moment, driving with his focus on the street in front of him. After a while, Elena wondered what he was thinking about. What has making him hold the steering wheel so tightly, why his jaw was flexing. She wanted to question him – why would her remembering his car make him react like this, she missed Playful Stefan. Pulling into a parking lot and easily finding a spot in front of the windows displaying wedding and prom dresses, Stefan finally looked at her – his face was unreadable, Business Stefan.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Elena asked, frustrated with the turn in his mood.

Running his hand through his hair, Stefan was unsure about where to start. He needed to know more. "What do you remember about me?" Elena wanted to answer the right way, tell him what she knew he wanted to hear. Focusing, putting all her energy into bringing up her memories of Stefan, she felt her head begin to ache, her neck and shoulders tensing. Drudging through those muddy years was physically painful for her and when Stefan noticed it – the furrowing of her brow, the slight grimace on her face, he quickly felt bad for asking. "You know what, we talk about this later. It's not a pressing issue."

Searching his face, Elena knew he was a bit disappointed, as was she, but her failure to remember anything from those years was nothing new for her – she just hated seeing Stefan upset. "Are you sure?"

Nodding his head, Stefan smiled and took her hand in his. He could tell that the pain she'd felt when trying to recall memories through the compulsion had succeeded. "Absolutely, we'll talk later. For now we've got to find a dress that doesn't look like you are on your way to senior prom."

The rest of the afternoon went by quickly. Elena tried on a few dresses, modeling each one for Stefan. They had an ease to their banter – flirty and witty – that Elena was growing quite fond of. She knew which dress she wanted within a few minutes of looking through the special occasion store, but liked the idea of letting Stefan look her over. Through his laughter and jokes, she could see him wanting her – the way his eyes would darken, linger over the curve of her hips or the low cut of the dress longer than it should have. The way his eyes, his desire made her feel was something she was finding impossible to resist – she couldn't get enough of it. With the tension between them ever increasing, it was painfully obvious to Elena that her relationship with Matt had been plutonic and uncharged for many years… maybe for as long as she could remember. Stefan opened doors for her, held her hand, was just slightly domineering – in an old-world, romantic, and gentlemanly way that made Elena feel all-woman, all-encompassed by his attention.

Once she'd chosen the steel grey, just-above-the-knee, sleeveless v-neck dress that seemed to hug her chest and torso perfectly before flaring out just enough over her hips, Stefan insisted that he purchase it. He told her it would be a business expense since Jennifer had forgotten to tell Elena about the gala, but in reality Stefan knew Elena couldn't cover the cost of such an expensive dress and he was happy to buy it. She was beautiful in anything, but he was especially fond of the way she looked in this dress. At nearly twenty—four, Elena was no longer a girl in any way and the smoky grey color and sheen of the satin against her dark hair and olive skin made him hunger for her.

"I still need to get my suit from the dry-cleaners." Putting the car in park in front of Elena's apartments, the thought of kissing her bye ran through his mind more than once even though he knew it wasn't a good idea.

"So eight then?" Elena gathered her dress from the back seat, tucking it over her arm and filling her hands with the to-go box with her left over lunch and plastic cup of Dr. Pepper. "I can be ready by seven or so if you want to go to dinner." It was a sly way of asking him to dinner, she knew, but it was the best she could come up with.

Stefan caught it and smiled that boyish smile, modesty and sexiness wrapped into one. "I do. I do want to go to dinner." He laughed, letting his hand rest on the seat next to her, the back of his fingers grazing the skin of her thigh. Such a simple, gentle touch that gave Elena a surge of electricity through her body.

Inhaling quicker than she meant to, a telling sign that Stefan did not miss, Elena returned his smile. "Seven then. It's a date."