A/N: This is for Fontiptoes birthday!
Stefan was never someone to dwell in nostalgia. Sure he likes the past, Rockabilly in the fifties; Woodstock no twenty years later and oh, those horrible shoulder pads in the nineties, but Stefan also likes to think that, this moment, here and now is a gift, one of the most precious gifts to be made. It's not like he didn't try doing that, he just wasn't very successful with that. He accepted that nobody really dances Rockabilly anymore and that teenagers nowadays think Woodstock was just a huge excuse to smoke a lot of weed and have a lot of…fun. Also, people may still wear shoulder pads sometimes, but they still look absolutely horrible, well that's maybe something that hasn't changed all that much. When he first lays eyes on Elena and immediately feels drawn to her, he first thinks it's his long-lost sense for nostalgia all over again, but when he got to know her and all her facets he realizes his was just enough of an idiot to fall in love. He's reluctant at first because he's the monster parents tell their children stories about and he shouldn't fall in love, he shouldn't for the sake of her. She's precious and pure and just so many things he's not. He can't resist though, so he meets her and it feels, strangely good like it's totally normal. He's an idiot, he understands that now. He's gonna embrace it.
Elena gets his new favorite past-time, but not in the dirty kind of way, but in a deeper, intellectual kind of way. He likes to learn essential stuff about her like, that her favorite book is 'Pride and Prejudice' but she can't stand 'Emma', or how she's allergic to hornet venom, but also the little things like how she always has to same song set as her alarm in the morning (Sittin', Waitin', Wishin' by Jack Johnsson) or that her favorite color for nail polish is something called 'Fuchsia Fusion'. Sometimes they'd simply lie together and exchange secrets, like how she could never cry at the end of Titanic, while he did. After he's done learning about her, he learns reading her. She gets a little crease just above her nose when she gets upset, or how she looks down at her hands before she tells him something uncomfortable.
What he quickly learns about Elena is that she absolutely loves everything that happened at least one decade before her birth. She listens to Bob Dylan while doing her homework; she tends a pair of powder-blue baby pumps she found at a thrift store like a treasure and she's really into that one retro breathed-on ice cream parlor they have in Mystic Falls. It's at the other end of the town, situated between what in earlier years was the town house and a record shop, it has polished, black and white tiles, red leather sitting booths and the whole stuff is dressed up. To be honest Stefan is never sure whether he landed in a life-time play of Mary Poppins or if he stumbled right into Disney World. You may have sensed it's not his favorite place to be, but Elena likes it so he'll gladly do that for her.
Right now he finds himself sitting on his bed, back leaning against his head board, Jean Paul Sartre in his hands. Elena lies next to him on her stomach, her long ended math's homework under her folded arms, chin resting atop her hands.
"I'm bored." She declares, pouting.
"Done with everything?" He asks, sending her quick smile. She rolls her eyes, sitting up abruptly.
"Yes, dad." She replies, batting her lashes "Is it okay if I snoop around a bit?"
"Sure."
She gets up and starts rummaging through his drawers, making comments about this and that and he soonly gets lost somewhere between poetry and prose, in the middle of the lines again.
"Oh" She exclaims, happily, catching his attention. He looks up to see her holding up an old record of his. It's Johnny Cash 'Folsom Prison Blues'. He closes his book smiling slightly to himself.
"Can I ask you something?" He questions, still smiling, while she traces her fingers carefully, reverently over the vinyl. Elena looks up to meet his eyes, biting her bottom lip.
"Of course."
"Why are you that much into basically that happened before you were born? I should be that way." Stefan remarks, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Let me put it like that. Would you want to grow up in a generation that calls Justin Bieber music?"
He frowns.
"Excuse me, who is Justin Bieber?"
"And that is exactly what I'm talking about." she tells him matter-of-factly, nodding confidently "But honestly, I don't get how can't like all that stuff after experiencing all that."
He sighs heavily.
"Sure I like Johnny Cash and The Great Gatsby." She scrunches up her nose "It's just this stuff doesn't last, so I'd rather not attach myself really to anything temporal."
"Oh, but that's unbelievable sad." She says lightly, leaning against his shoulder.
"You think so?" He presses a kiss to the top of her head.
"Mhm. You have nothing to go at if you wanna get away from what's happening currently." Elena explains, tracing her pointer finger over the back of his hand. He takes a moment to let her words settle in.
"I have you." He says after a while, laying his chin onto her shoulder.
"But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about something surreal, something that helps you to get lost with yourself a bit." She insists, frowning a little.
"To me you're still a little surreal." He utters, shrugging, slightly. She doesn't look very convinced until her face lights up.
"You know what? I can be your nostalgia! I mean not me in person, but memories like that. Would that be good for you?" For an answer he kisses her.
Stefan once thought being nostalgic meant being idiot. He said it once and he'll say it twice. He's an idiot. He'll embrace it.
A/N: Leave me a nice word maybe?