"Take your weirdly long fingers out of my plate," Stefan said as Rebekah took another french fry from his plate. "If you're hungry, why did you not order your own?" he raises his eyebrow at her confused.
Rebekah shoots him a glare. "I am not hungry. Why would you think I'm hungry?" she throws her wavy, vanilla blonde hair over her shoulder.
"Because there's half of the fucking french fries missing and I haven't even started eating," he replies as he watches his friend steal another french fry from his plate.
"I do not even like french fries," she says while nibbling on the said food, "Carbs."
Stefan cocks his eyebrow at her. "You love french fries. Once I had to take them away from you because you were basically swallowing them whole, it was too painful too watch," he shakes as he remembers the time when Rebekah got off her diet and violently attacked a plate of french fries in the Grill. It was like watching Jaws. Poor potatoes.
Rebekah shakes her head before throwing the last bite into her mouth. "It wasn't me," she denies it and steals another one from the pile. A crispy one.
"You're holding one as we speak," he says slightly annoyed at her.
She looks at the french fry in between her fingers before she puts it in her mouth. "No I'm not," she says while chewing.
He smiles at her and shakes his head in disbelief as he takes a hamburger in his hands and takes a bite.
He concludes he could never be a girl. He loves food too much. He loves it too much to even pretend he doesn't enjoy it, anyway.
Girls seem to think the skinnier they are, the more beautiful they are, so they end up looking like hangers, which is not attractive at all.
If there's something he hates, it's when a girl orders a salad and a glass of water. And then steals food from his plate.
If you're going to eat, then eat.
He will never understand women. He's not sure he wants to. The only people who understand women are women themselves, and all of them seem to hate each other. You never hear guys calling each other sluts because they own the same piece of clothing.
He likes women who know how to enjoy food. He would rather be with a girl who's not afraid to grease her fingers with a burger, even if it means she has few extra pounds on her body, than with a girl who eats her salad in a second and spends the rest of the night eyeing his plate like someone who hasn't been fed in months.
"Anyway," Rebekah says after they stay silent for few minutes, "You were telling me about Elena," she raises an eyebrow in his direction.
"Yes," he rolls his eyes as he takes another bite of his hamburger, "Can you believe the coincidence?" he huffs.
Rebekah giggles. "You know, for someone who hates her so much you do talk about her awfully lot," she says cocky, knowing it will upset him.
And annoying him is one of her favorite hobbies.
"Shut up," he snaps at her.
She giggles again because she knows she had succeeded in her intention. "I'm just saying I've seen you obsessing over many girls, especially ones who gave you a hard time. You like a challenge," Rebekah points out.
Confusion washes over Stefan's face. "Your point being?" he asks curiously.
"Well, you do not want to sleep with Elena," she says, even though sometimes she thinks that statement should be a question. Especially recently.
"God no!" Stefan raises his voice in exclamation.
Rebekah nods her head. "Which means she's the only girl you were ever emotionally invested in," she proclaims, making him frown.
"But I hate her," he says, swallowing the word hate.
Rebekah huffs and throws her hands in the air. "Hate is an emotion as well," she says in victory.
Stefan keeps glaring at her for some time before he leans over the table and says, "Your logic does not resemble our Earth logic," he says it quietly, practically through a whisper.
She shakes her head. He always has been stubborn. Well, for as long as she knows him at least.
"Are we going tomorrow?" she asks instead of continuing fighting with him on the previous subject.
He smirks at her. "Of course we are going," he says, asking himself why would she ever think they're not going to a party. When did they ever not go to a party?
All of a sudden Rebekah pulls a wide smile across her face. "I can't wait for Rome," she leans back on her chair as she exclaims excitedly. "I have to buy a new bikini," she says, looking like she's thinking hard.
"Shall I remind you you're in a relationship?" Stefan cocks his eyebrow at her cautiously, "With my brother, nevertheless."
She lets out a desperate sigh. "Women in relationship can't wear bikinis in foreign countries?" she asks him.
He has no answer to give to her, because she does have a point. And he hates when she has a point. He hates when people leave him speechless.
Rebekah looks at his disappointed face and decides not to push it any further. "Speaking of the one because of whom my hands are chained from touching hot Italians," she takes her bag from the chair next to her in her hands, "I have to meet him," she gets up from her chair, gives Stefan a peck on the cheek, and turns to leave.
But before she does, she bites her lip after which she clenches her teeth, and turns around to tell him, "In the end, we're going to regret the chances we did not take."
Rebekah bumps into Stefan from behind and pushes a bottle of beer into his empty hands. "You're here!" she exclaims with a loud tone of voice, "I've been looking everywhere for you!" she yells into his ear.
Even though she is standing beside him, yelling, he can barely hear her. The music in there is way too loud.
"Are you drunk?" Stefan cocks his eyebrow at her.
"No," she shakes her head, and he glares at her. She tries to turn her look away from his. "Maybe," she rolls her eyes as he continues glaring at her. She raises her hand in the air and parts her fingers, making a small gap between them, "A little," she replies. "Yes," she breaks under the intensity of his stare. "And I'm having a blast!" she throws her arms in the air and starts jumping around him.
Stefan laughs lightly at her.
He loves every edition of his friend, but drunk Rebekah is probably his favorite Rebekah.
She stops jumping around and eyes hims wearily. "Why aren't you drunk?" she asks him.
There's a smirk on his face. "I'm saving myself for Rome. Italian women need me. I must not let them down," he answers cockily.
Rebekah rolls her eyes at him. "They will survive," she says as she grips his fist with her fingers and raises the bottle to his mouth. He takes a few sips.
He looks down at her. He finally gets a chance to see what she's wearing once bright yellow light falls on them.
He chokes on his beer.
"Holy hell woman," he looks down at her short, silver sequin dress and black pumps, "How did Damon even let you go out dresses like this?" he thinks about how his brother can't be happy with her girlfriend jumping around dressed like this among teenage hormonal bombs.
She puts her hands on her hips and raises her eyebrow at him, "Luckily, I do not need my boyfriends approval to go out dressed in a certain way," she sticks her tongue out at him.
Stefan huffs. "Women," and he takes few more sips of his beer.
Rebekah takes a tequila shot from a waiter who passes by them, "We're pesky little things, aren't we?" she licks the salt from the edges of the glass, "With our needs and wishes and opinions, annoying you strong men and ruining you animal need to mark your ownership on the things you want with our basic human rights crap," she raises her glass to her lips, "Bottoms up!" she makes a sour face as she drinks every drop of alcohol and puts a lemon slice in her mouth.
He smiles at her.
This is why Rebekah is his best friend. Because she's the person who can stand up for what she believes in while she's completely drunk. She can also say so much shit in one minute without even blinking.
She would make a good politician.
"Bekah, there's something I wanted to ask you," he sips on his beer casually, "Who is that girl?" he points his finger at the girl in front who is standing with her back turned to them. "I do not recognize the ass."
Rebekah stumbles in front of him and looks at the girl he's pointing at. She shakes her head. "I have no idea."
Stefan pouts. She has a really, really nice ass.
He takes the last sip of his beer and puts the bottle on the table next to him. "I'm going over there. Wish me luck," he inhales deeply.
Rebekah claps her hands as she watches him go. "Get in there Salvatore!" she yells after him.
As he walks in the girls direction, he can't take his eyes off her ass. It's so perfectly round and middle sized, like two perfectly shaped buns.
He stands behind her and takes a deep breath before he says, "Hey there beautiful," as he pulls his signature smirk over his face.
The girl slowly turns around to face him with a complete and utter shock visible on her face.
Something gets stuck in his throat. "Gilbert, what are you doing here, pretending to be an actual human being?" he spits out at her.
She crosses her arms on her chest, anger mixed with confusion visible on her face. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" she yells at him, clearly irritated.
He keeps on glaring at her. He is completely unprepared for this situation, because this turn of events is the last thing he had expected. Who knew Elena Gilbert had such a nice ass?
She's looking at him angrily, with her arms crossed over her chest, patiently waiting for his response. This is a bad time to be staring at her boobs, Stefan, he thinks for himself. He looks behind her, and her friends are glaring at him as well. Everyone except that perky blonde. She's chuckling.
He wishes Rebekah would come over and save him from this uncomfortable situation he had found himself in. But that's not going to happen. He knows she's probably standing there and having a good laugh.
"I saw a nice ass. How the hell was I supposed to know it belongs to you?" he tries to defend himself.
Did he just openly compliment her ass?
The lines of her face soften, and she blushes slightly.
It's weird. Girls he hangs out with usually do not blush when he says such a thing.
It's a change, and he can't decide is it a positive or a negative one.
He has no idea what to do, so he decides to do what he always does. What he's best at. Say something inappropriate.
"Seriously Gilbert, where have you been hiding that thing?" he smirks at her smugly, "Are you a shape shifter?"
She stomps with her foot on the floor like a little child and an angry sound comes out of her mouth. "You need professional help, you sick pervert," she yells at him, and few people turn around to look at them. She was louder than the music itself.
He doesn't let her push him out of the tact. "Hey, I'm not the one walking around with that fine ass," he defends himself by putting his hands in front of his body, his palms opened.
You're not making it any easier on yourself, he thinks to himself.
"If you like that fine ass so much, why don't you ask it for a dance," Caroline finally voices herself. It was only a matter of time.
Elena turns around and shots a deathly glare at Caroline, but the blonde ignores her.
"I would, but the fine ass comes with that annoying mouth," he says, and Jeremy lets out a chuckle.
Her own brother. Elena wants to throw something at him.
"Or maybe you're too much of a chicken to do it?" Caroline cocks her eyebrow in Stefan's direction.
Well, I guess every person has to have an annoying blonde best friend whose tongue is faster than her brain.
Elena turns around to face Stefan.
"Fine," Stefan huffs, always standing up to a challenge, "Gilbert," he looks down at Elena, "Would you like to dance with me?" he smirks.
"No."
"Oh come on now!"
"Elena," Bonnie says her name in despair, "You're acting like you're going to get cooties from him."
A grin appears on Elena's face. "Well now that you have mentioned it, I might."
Stefan rolls his eyes. "Someone is chickening out," he hums amused.
"I am not a chicken!" Elena whines annoyed.
"If you weren't one, you would dance with me."
"Well maybe I will."
"Well maybe I will too."
"Let's go."
Stefan offers her his hand. "Let's go," he says as she puts her hand in his.
He pulls her after him as he walks through the crowd towards the dance floor, and she turns her head around and mouths to Caroline I'm going to kill you, before they disappear in the crowd.
She has never done this. Ever. She has no idea what the hell she's supposed to do. Is she allowed to touch him? How does she react if he touches her?
The sun goes down, the stars come out, and all that counts is here and now, my universe will never be the same, I'm glad you came.
She's been on a few parties, but usually, she would just sit or stand by the side and watch others have fun. Or their idea of having fun, anyway. Sometimes she would have a few drinks and comment about how some of the girls are dressed, but that's about it.
You cast a spell on me, spell on me, you hit me like the sky fell on me, fell on me, and I decided you look well on me, well on me, so let's go somewhere no one else can see, you and me.
Plus, this is Stefan. She hates the guy, and he hates her. There's a lot of mutual hate. So what are they supposed to do now? Grope each other on the dance floor like nothing matters?
Turn the lights out now, now I'll take you by the hand, hand you another drink, drink it if you can, can you spend a little time, time is slipping away, away from us so stay, stay with me I can make, make you glad you came.
Life has a tendency to surprise you when you least expect it, or when you're not in the mood for any surprises. She knows that. She knows that life is a game in which rules change way too often. She's fully aware of it since life did it to her too often.
The sun goes down, the stars come out, and all that counts is here and now, my universe will never be the same, I'm glad you came, I'm glad you came.
Despite her awareness, she had let herself be surprised one more time. She was surprised by a natural way her body was moving next to Stefan's. How her actions and steps came naturally to her. How completely normal it seemed to dance with him in that way.
She had no idea what has gotten into her. Her fingers were in her hair. She was bringing her body closer to Stefan's with every passing second, until she could finally feel his chest on her back. Her slightly wavy hair was flying in the air. She was moving her ass so close to his groin.
She could have felt his hands on her hips.
And she was actually having fun. She was dancing like a lunatic.
She was also surprised by how good it feels to feel nothing like herself.
Then the song stopped, and she remembered every good feeling is fleeting. Every moment is fleeting.
Everything goes back to normal.
A slow song starts playing. She probably knows it, but she can't remember it at the moment, because she has turned to Stefan and they're looking confused at each other. Who the fuck plays a slow songs on parties?
She can feel herself blushing.
"Well, thanks for the dance," she says shyly before she turns around to walk away from him.
She wants to run as far away as she can from this uncomfortable situation.
As she makes her first step, she feels his fingers gripping around her waist, and he pulls her back to himself. She rolls around and bumps into his chest. He's much taller than her, even now when she's wearing heels, so she has to look up at him. Her palms are pressed on his chest as she does so. He takes one of her hands in his and puts the other on his back, and he does the same with his other free hand.
"We said we're going to dance, so let's dance," he tells her.
She's trying to avoid his look, so she only slightly nods.
She becomes afraid of this feeling. Of how comfortable and uncomfortable she can feel at the same time.
"Salvatore?"
"Mhm?"
"Get your hands off my ass."
When she arrives home she can't wait to get out of her dress and shoes, and slither in her comfortable pajamas. She cleans the make up from her face and ties her hair into a ponytail.
And she falls into her bed tiredly. She's so tired that she thinks she's going to fall asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.
Except she doesn't.
Her thoughts do not let her fall asleep, but she does not want to let them invade her mind completely.
She hums some song inside of her head while she rolls in the bed until she can't remember how the words go.
She can't forget his hands on her body. Or his breath on the back of her neck. Or how, at one moment, he nuzzled his nose in her hair on the back of her head. How comfortable she felt while dancing with him, or how she felt nothing like herself while being on that dance floor.
She can't forget how good it felt to feel his body next to hers. Or the fact her palms became sweaty when he took her hand into his.
So she started asking herself, does her hate for him exists, or did she create it only to cover feelings she was too scared to admit she has in the first place.
He knows he shouldn't be thinking about the smell of her perfume. About the fruity smell on her neck he felt as he let out a stream of hot air on it. Or how nice she looks with wavy hair, because it's a nice change from her usual hair style. Or how her eyes popped out now when she had put some more make up on.
And he knows for sure the thought she looks beautiful with or without make up shouldn't have even crossed his mind.
He should be thinking about how amazing her ass is, or how right Damon was, she does have spectacularly long legs. He should be thinking about how hot she looked in that little, tight green dress. He had never seen someone looking so classy in such a short dress.
Hell, it's Elena Gilbert, he should not be thinking about her at all.
"Stefan," drunk Rebekah murmurs his name while lying on the bed next to him, "You slow danced with Elena. That's like saying I love you on the first date," she giggles in the sheets. "You had a metaphorically emotional sexual intercourse with the girl you supposedly hate," she says through a light, tired laugh.
Stefan huffs. "I do hate her," he furrows his brows, thinking how that sentence sounds less convincing than it did yesterday, even to him.
"Mhm. Keep telling yourself that," she says so silently barely he can hear her. "Did you get a soul boner?" she giggles one more time.
A small grin appears on his face. "No, I got an actual boner."
"You get a boner on everything that walks, talks and has a vagina."
"Walking and talking is not obligatory."
"You're disgusting."
"I know."
"Stef?"
"Mhm?"
"I think I'm going to puke."
"Do you want me to take you to the bathroom?"
"Can you bring the bathroom to me?"
"Sure, Bekah."
He gets up from the bed, walks on the other side of it, puts his arms under Rebekah and picks her up in his arms. She throws her arms around his neck and murmurs into his skin, "Thanks Stef, you're the best."
AN: There's never too early for romantic development, eh? Baby steps, though. The biggest problem those two have is the fact they really do believe they hate each other.