Who Are You, Really?

"Mmm," Caroline purred softly; her eyes still shut as her head lay against the fluffy pillow and a hint of sunlight grazed softly against her cheeks.

She nestled a bit more tightly—more comfortably—into her place in the king size bed, with his arms wrapped around her waist and his forehead pressed firmly to the crook of her neck.

Caroline smiled softly to herself as she breathed—as he breathed—and she felt Stefan stir against her skin. He was mumbling softly and tiredly while he still held onto her and Caroline contemplated whether or not she should still pretend as if she were asleep.

This had been a complete 180 for her; because just 24 hours ago, she'd been running out of Stefan's bed as if the comforters were on fire when they woke up together in Vegas. But now?

She couldn't think of any place in the world she'd rather be than within his arms.

These toned, tanned, and trusting arms that she'd grown to find shelter in since last night, when his mother and father made her feel like the bubonic plague.

Like a peasant, who had no business being married to their son, even though it wasn't exactly as they had presented it to the Salvatores in the first place because in reality? It was much messier. And it was purely an accident.

But accident or not, it made Caroline feel like a homeless hillbilly, the way Stefan's parents stared at her, as if she was a charity case.

As if their son was making the biggest mistake of his life with this Southern reject of woman and they needed to save him from his bad decision—and himself—before it was all too late.

In Mystic Falls, Caroline had been the type of girl who could—within reasonable limits—date any man that she wanted. Here? It was like Giuseppe and Mary didn't understand why their precious polo playing son would even touch her with a ten-foot pole.

To them? Caroline was just yet another crisis in The Saga of Stefan and she needed to be dealt with, immediately.

To her? She wanted to show them up. She wanted to prove that she could be everything—and more—that they were looking for, for their son, and she wouldn't stop until she beat this.

Caroline couldn't rest until Mary and Giuseppe were head over heels in love with her because not only would it help Stefan to finally get their approval and judgmental eyes off of his back—and his trust fund back into his hands—but it would help her too. And not purely on the financial front, either.

She could be somebody who was admired, envied, and empowered. She could not only shut that pesky ex-boyfriend of hers up forever by seemingly moving on with her life once and for all, but she could also be the Caroline Forbes she'd never believed she could be again— after her own family fell apart and her parents left her with nothing to lean on , rely on, or even show for it.

She wanted to be someone, she realized, as she lay in Stefan's arms; looping the looks of disenchantment in his parent's eyes in her brain, over and over and over again.

She wanted to be a woman who never got those looks ever again—no matter where she went. She wanted to be a woman who was good enough for everyone; up to and including herself.

She wanted to be stronger, fiercer, and more fearless—not just the carrying the illusion of such qualities, because she knew it was what the world expected of her. She actually wanted to be those things, now and forever.

And if she had to do things Damon's way to get there, then so be it. Damon was an ass but he also seemed like a genius and a master mind if she were honest and if he said he had a plan, she was going to try it.

She just wished she didn't have to be up so early.

Caroline glanced at the clock on the night before she finally began to rise out of Stefan's arms—garnering a disappointed sigh from her cuddle buddy as she felt him shift on the bed behind her; watching her, as she tied her messy curls into a top-bun and placed her toes to the hardwood floor.

She definitely needed to take a shower and wash away the shame that still burrowed beneath her skin, as she tried not to wallow on Mr. and Mrs. Salvatore's words.

Today was a new day. She was going to treat it as such.

"You're up," Stefan said, as he looked to the clock and back to Caroline's shoulders as she faced away from him, stretching her arms overhead. "And you didn't even need an alarm… It's pretty impressive that you aren't still jet-lagged from the flight."

"Oh, trust me—I am spent…But I'm used to just being up early. We can blame that on Elena Gilbert," she said, as-a-matter-of-factly, before glancing over her shoulder. "She's kind of a fitness freak and somehow, I'm the one that she's gotten to humor her when it comes to being up at the ass crack of dawn to go jogging… Mostly because she had clinicals at the hospital by nine and I was just…bored," she admitted to which Stefan grinned and Caroline huffed. "My friends are interesting people."

"Or so I've noticed," he nodded, as she slightly remembered that night in Vegas when he met them all and subsequently formed his own opinions.

Rebekah? A little anxious and a whole lot of blunt, but amusing nonetheless—even if that douchebag Klaus just so happened to be her older brother. Stefan could only hope that the apple fell far from the tree when it came to the two of them…Very far.

Next? There was Bonnie. Quiet—a bit reserved actually, but likeable—especially because she'd already put his brother in his place multiple times and Stefan lived for women who were completely immune to Damon and his "smoldering-gaze-I-can-rock-your-world" bullshit. Bonnie wasn't beneath any spells and Stefan adored that she'd seen through the older Salvatore faster than a speeding bullet. Knowing his brother, though, it would 1000% mean that the petite librarian would only serve to better pique Damon's interest—just to prove a point— though it was clear Bonnie already barely tolerated him.

That would be interesting to watch. He might actually get to witness Damon getting slapped for the third time in his entire life.

And then there was Elena—the friendly brunette with the doe eyes and infectious smile, who reminded him all too well of the woman who'd consumed him and his life for much more time than he wanted to or was willing to admit.

Katherine Pierce.

From the chestnut brown hair, to the slender legs that belonged to her elongated frame, Elena held a very strong resemblance to his past love, Katherine and that, quite frankly, rattled the shit out of him. Even though the two weren't related at all, Stefan—unfortunately—saw too much of his ex in her eyes for him to even pretend like he was comfortable being in her presence, though he'd mask his disdain and utter scorn for it very well when she asked him to take a shot with her at the Deadmau5 show.

Elena was a really genuine girl and he just had to remember that she was not her; that they probably could have passed for sisters in another life, but in this one, they were two completely different entities.

What he thought about her didn't matter anyway because he was "rightfully" married to Caroline Forbes and that was the beginning and ending of that.

And because they were married and he hadn't seen her in years before the entire Vegas fiasco, he wanted to know more about her. He wanted to be able to believably present this woman as his wife and the only way to do that was by engaging in a little Caroline Forbes 101.

It was impossible to assume that she was the same exact girl he'd interned with years ago, because there were things that'd changed about him too, even if it had only been some time between them.

"They mean well," Caroline concluded, as she snapped him out of his thoughts, while she gathered her things for the shower. "They can all be pains in the asses but I love them to death…I wouldn't trade my girls for the world."

"I remember you saying that in D.C," Stefan recalled as he sat up against the pillow. "That your friends were pretty much your life… I don't remember you ever really mentioning your parents, though…Are they still in the picture? Or at least, less dickheadish than mine are?"

Caroline swallowed hard at that before nearing the door much quicker than she'd presumed; never turning around to meet his eyes though she felt his gaze barreling down on her heavily, as the seconds passed.

She hadn't mentioned her parents for a reason—and it was because they were a mess. Stefan's may have been Grade-A assholes, but hers positively garbage. His parents already hated her because she seemed to be bottom of the barrel—she didn't need to give them anymore reason to roast her once they found out about the people who raised her. Liz hardly passed as anything close to a functioning mother and Bill simply didn't exist in her mind, for as far as she was concerned.

"Ah, ah—not so fast," she changed the subject gracefully when she finally turned around. "You already know about Klaus…and my three best friends; you've even met them. If you won't tell me about Katherine, or your friends, or anything, I'm not gonna just keep dishing about my life when you aren't doing the same… Fair is fair, pal."

Stefan licked his teeth at that.

She really hoped he couldn't read the pained avoidance that was just beyond her eyes when she thought about just how awful her childhood, teenage years, and adult life had been because of her parents. She guessed she was in the clear when he sighed with a shrug before hopping to his feet and running his fingers through his caramel hair.

She was beginning to hate just how good he looked in the morning. Especially because she'd convinced herself that their hot night of sex had just been a fluke and it would never happen again, under future—or sober—circumstances, though her mind was already wandering the closer he walked in towards her.

The slower he moved, the faster her heart seemed to race when he looked into her eyes and she was reminded that she was just a girl with a massive crush on a guy who society had deemed "too good for her." Reminded that yes, while she'd had Stefan and his everything for a night before, this was the kind of guy who didn't belong to her—to girls like her.

He was only in here, waking up beside her in the morning, because she'd foolishly asked him to stay because she knew guys like Stefan couldn't—and didn't—say no.

Not when they felt like they owed you something. Especially not when they pitied and felt bad for you.

But that didn't stop her heart from skipping when he stopped before her knowingly and she was instantly brought back to the thoughts about that crazy night.

Stefan pressed her chest-first against the wall in his hotel room—his hands tearing through one of his shirts that she had just put on, while his lips kissed her ear from behind and his hands traveled down over her body, without a care in the world. Caroline bit her lip so hard it swelled, as she heard him moan her name against her flaxen hair; his hands firmly grabbing her chest as she felt him hardening through his boxers against her back, for what felt like the twentieth time that night.

She and Stefan were unable of keeping their hands off of each other. So much so, that a few shirts, condoms, and words exchanged later, they were on the verge of doing it, again.

This time, against his wall. And she didn't have any problems at all with that. He'd spent enough time of his back and so had she—if they didn't find another way to do it, they were never going to rest, they were never going to sleep, and Caroline couldn't subsequently remind herself to regret this in the morning.

On second thought? Maybe they should have just kept going until the dawn.

Caroline's thoughts were interrupted when Stefan turned her around to meet him—his eyes, specifically—before he pressed his lips deeply against hers and she swallowed his tongue hungrily, while her hands found his face.

Sucking, licking, biting, tugging—all of the things Caroline loved and appreciated in a kiss—as she gripped his hair strongly and swallowed each of her expletives, just in case Damon had gotten back and he was actually listening to every word that was going on between them.

Of course he could hear if he was here, she figured. He would hear her yell Stefan's name, mercilessly, as he discovered her, again, with his mouth. He would hear her back slam against the wall, repeatedly, as she tried to control the feeling and waves of sensation bouncing along like fireworks beneath her skin. Damon would hear it all.

But she didn't care.

And she had a feeling Stefan didn't either, as he slipped his fingers into her underwear; his fingers grazing against her so expertly and methodically, that she literally almost lost her balance and had to tighten her arms around his muscled shoulder even more.

Holy hell.

"Caroline, you alright?" he asked and the blonde cleared her throat, releasing her mind from the throws of passion, and nodded quickly when he folded his arms. "Did you… happen to hear what I said?"

"No," she said honestly. "Not exactly," she added. "Because I was too busy having sex with you again in my brain," she mentally noted before smiling. "I got…distracted."

"Well… Hopefully you won't be too distracted tonight, to go out with me on the town… I want to show you New York, if you're up for it."

"Of course I am," Caroline said almost breathlessly as Stefan smiled and she did her best to remain calm, though she was freaking out on the inside. "I've never been here before, you know."

"I know…And that's why I want to take you to a few of my favorite places…Dinner, maybe—"

"Dinner?" she asked as she met his eyes and he bit his lip when she gazed back. "You sure you wanna be seen doing that with me, when all these crazy photographers are up your family's ass right now?"

"I don't care about them," he replied with folded arms. "I just… want to give you the good ol' Big Apple Experience, minus most of the touristy bullshit—"

"And you want to show your parents that you're ignoring everything they said and going against their better judgment by still being involved with me; the country girl."

"Caroline, no—"

"Stefan, yes; I know exactly what this is and I… I can't be mad because it's what I signed up for, right? I'm a part of a plan—"

"But that doesn't mean that's all that you are," he said as she pursed her lips and he moved in closer; this time, his hands landing on her shoulders as they looked into each other's eyes. "I want to hang out with you tonight, Caroline—I wanna do something fun. I want you to have fun, while you're here…And what kind of host would I be if I didn't show you where I came from at least one of the nights while you were here?"

"Shitty, actually," she said and he smiled warmly as she laughed and shook her head. "Stefan, I'm sorry, okay? I just… It's been a while—a long time, actually—since a guy has been genuinely nice to me without trying to get anything in return."

"Well, you better get used to it," he said with a grin as she followed his eyes and his fingers squeezed her skin softly. "Because you don't owe me anything, Caroline … And I couldn't have asked for a better surprise when I ran into you in Vegas. Really. I… really am happy you're here."

There was silence in between them as Caroline digested that—unable to control the somersault in her stomach that happened purely as a result to his words. It was going to be really hard to pretend like she could do this "friends only thing" when he was being so charming and sweet and nice.

It was one of the things that had attracted her to Stefan all those years ago in the first place and if she wasn't careful, she'd fall into the grips of it right now.

Caroline tucked a strand behind her ear and Stefan's finger trailed slowly—gently—over her arm as his eyes looked into hers and her breath quickened.

She knew she was doing a miserable at pretending like she wasn't affected by this—by him—but then again, he was too; as she was sure she saw something in his eyes, in this very moment, that didn't scream "let's be friends," though it'd been all that his lips were saying.

No.

Because right now, she was sure he was thinking about it, too—about the way his lips felt against hers as he pushed her down into his bed and ground his hips to her skin, until the darkest hours of the night.

He was thinking about the way Caroline's kisses latched onto his neck; the way her teeth grazed against his collar just as roughly as her nails and he could do nothing but hold onto her tightly, as the fierce and ferocious blonde staked her claim and went to work.

As she dubbed him the prey in her hunt.

Stefan offered a look on uncertainty—hesitation—as his fingers retracted from her arm and Caroline let out a short breath she'd been holding in, apparently all the while.

"I should…probably shower," she gulped, before her mind added "Care to join me?"

She mental pinched herself for the thought.

"You should," he agreed finally; his green eyes following her eyes movement. "Damon will be mad if you're late."

"Yeah," she bit her lip awkwardly with a smile as she nodded. "He… will."

Stefan watched on as Caroline finally yanked the door open and escaped the room—his eyes trailing all along her frame before he shook his head and turned back to the bed where he plopped onto silently before taking the remote in hand.

When he heard the shower running from the bathroom down the hall he let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his head before his eyes began to focus on the movie onscreen.

Anything to stop thinking about her.

XXXXX

Caroline scrubbed her skin tirelessly, as the water from the shower cascaded onto her face and she breathed in deeply as she shut her eyes.

Her hands brushed over her cheeks before making their way to her mouth and over her chest—her fingers fighting the temptation to touch herself any further as images of Stefan flashed through her mind, and the water pattered over her heart.

"I wonder what I should have for breakfast," she thought lamely—and no doubt, as a means to distract herself.

Anything to stop her from thinking about him. Anything, at all.

XXXXX

"Caroline Forbes? He's ready to see you, if you'll just kindly follow me."

Caroline looked up from the issue of Entertainment Weekly that was within her hands and cleared her throat with a humble smile. She set the magazine down before hopping to her feet and nervously tugging at the plain white shirt He had instructed her to wear over the phone and put on her best smile.

Caroline fidgeted with her fingers as she followed the tiny brunette out of the waiting room and through a corridor where she saw plenty of waif, 5'9 supermodels either talking animatedly on their phones as they clutched their portfolios, or—even more intimidatingly—eyed her judgingly as she did her best to keep her eyes forward and her head held high.

Once through the cattle and into what had to be the nicest office shed ever seen in her life, Caroline saw a man with dark brown—almost jet black hair—sitting at a desk and yammering on into his phone, while she waited behind the receptionist until he was finished.

Caroline glanced at him briefly before surveying the room in the modeling agency and trying to keep her jaw intact. There were plaques and frames of pictures elegantly lining the wall, featuring the faces of many celebrities she'd recognized—mostly high fashion models—and the guy in front of her was present in almost every single picture.

When she called the number Damon had given them last night and she was connected directly to whoever this guy was before her, she was told—quickly—an address, what to wear, and what time to show up.

It wasn't until the yellow taxi cab pulled up in front of the modeling agency had she known exactly what Damon got her into.

And right now? She still couldn't say she had any clue, as she watched the man talking and typing busily before finally getting a client off of the phone and mumbling quietly to himself as his eyes locked to the screen of his Mac before he finally acknowledged them.

And it was with more of a glare—definitely no hint of welcoming smile.

"Caroline Forbes," the receptionist said shortly before gracefully walking out if the room and shutting the door behind them.

Caroline swallowed hard before offering a smile and extending a hand just over his mahogany desk.

"Hi, I'm—"

"I know," he said quickly, to which Caroline shut her lips and took in a deep breath. "Have a seat, Miss Forbes," his British accent added.

Caroline retracted her hand once he made it clear he wasn't about to shake hers and she took a seat in the plush chair that was in front of her—delicately crossing her legs and folding her hands above her denim jeans.

The man with the accent stared at her—clear scrutiny in his eyes—before grabbing a pen and jotting down a few things. Caroline sighed as she watched him look up every so often and she imagined just how much cuter he could have been if he wasn't such a standoffish asshole.

Then again, could she really expect anything else from contact of Damon's?

No, definitely not.

"I understand you're a friend of Mr. Salvatore's," he finally said and Caroline snorted softly at that but maintained her smile as her blue eyes connected with his brown.

"I didn't know you guys used the term friend so loosely here, in New York," she quipped, much to man's amusement, as she finally cracked a grin. "I know Damon; we're…"

"Trust me, doll—I don't need specifics," the man said as she huffed and he tapped the end of his pen to his desk. "Damon gave me a call and asked me for a favor. And seeing as I owe him quite a bit of my dues, I just couldn't say no… The bastard has me by the throat."

"As he likes to have most people," she pointed out before straightening up in her chair. "Who are you, exactly? And what am I doing here?"

The man chewed at his lip before rising to his feet and pacing the floor as Caroline watched. He rubbed his scruffy beard as he eyed her again.

"I'm Enzo—Enzo Dierden and I'm the CEO of this modeling agency," he gestured as Caroline's eyes wandered the room again. "Dierden Elite happens to be the top modeling agency, here in New York, and we have business from here to the west coast, and all the way out over the sea. California, Paris, London, and even Milan… You name a fashion capital, and we're there," he said as Caroline bit her lip and he stopped beside her chair.

The cushion on this thing probably cost more than here month's rent.

"So, Damon blackmailed one of his fancy client friends into doing what for me, exactly? I don't have any aspirations to be a model. I blog and I bartend—that's what I know."

"That's absolutely fine, Miss Forbes—many of our girls do this as a hobby; a side job that pays for what they need or gets them where they need to go…. Granted, the ones who take it more seriously as a career make more money and book more gigs…But you're not here because I want you to walk a runway, Caroline."

"Then what am I here for?"

"You're here because your dear Damon wants you to learn a little bit of grace. He wants me to work with you on your fashion—your hair, your makeup—"

"What?" Caroline asked as she folded her arms over her chest and her eyes widened. "I'm sorry but is this Pretty Woman?"

"More like Cinderella," Enzo muttered as he walked towards her and ran his fingers through her hair. "Just how often do you use a deep conditioner, love? And when was the last time you treated these roots?"

"You have to be kidding me," Caroline muttered beneath her breath as she watched Enzo skip to his intercom and furiously call on his assistant Cassandra to come back into his office, while he eyed Caroline all the while.

She self-consciously brushed her fingers through her hair.

"I like my hair," she said stubbornly. "I don't want to change it."

"Donald Trump loves his too, but that doesn't mean it looks good, my dear," he grinned and Caroline scoffed. "We're just going to give you a few highlights, alright? Don't throw a fit."

"I'm not completely graceless or blind to fashion, you know," she said as his assistant walked through the door with a tape measure and instantly pulled Caroline to her feet as Enzo watched on. "I read Vogue, sometimes—and I watch America's Next Top Model… Oh! And I own a pair of Louboutin heels… and they're real," Caroline noted as Cassandra sized her around the waist. "I may not be the most fashion forward, but—"

"Isa Arfen, Stella Jean, Piazza Sempione," Enzo said as Caroline's eyes narrowed and he held up three fingers. "When you can name a high-fashion designer you enjoy who's name sounds foreign to the everyday tongue, perhaps I'll consider our work here done… But until then…We have a lot to work through."

Caroline sighed as Cassandra snapped the tape measurer shut and the man clapped his hands definitively as he looked into her eyes. And the look he was giving her right now let her know that he meant only business.

"Are you ready for your transformation, Miss Forbes? I was thinking with those highlights first."

XXXXX

Stefan stared out from the window of the window of the room at New York Presbyterian Hospital and he sighed before turning back to his grandmother and offering a nervous smile.

Even though the woman had still been asleep, he felt a gentle comfort in coming here—even if it was just to watch her—for a few minutes—if not hours—on end.

This time? Three hours, he realized as his eyes glanced over to the clock and he made his way back to the seat just beside her; her steady breathing fill the sounds of quiet in the room and helping him to feel a little less anxious as it reminded her that she was okay.

"It was just an asthma attack," he repeated into his head as he took her hand into his and smiled. "You're gonna be okay," Stefan said aloud before kissing her knuckles and massaging her skin with his thumbs. "If my Dad is good for anything, it's hiring the best doctors," Stefan reassured, as his breath got caught in his throat.

The same doctors that his parents threw him to, the second his well-being started to become a problem for them and their fortune.

"You're fine," Stefan nodded as he felt his chest tighten and his lip begin to tremble. "You're in great hands. Everything is fine."

Or at least he would just keep telling himself that.

XXXXX

"I think I am severely overdressed," Caroline noted, as she walked behind Stefan into a dive bar on the Lower East Side—the heels Enzo sent her home in throbbing on her feet, as her tight navy dress hugged her curves, and her freshly-dyed honey blonde hair bounced on her shoulders as she moved.

"Trust me, Care—nobody cares, here," he said as they slid into a booth and the girl sighed smoothly when she glanced around and saw no one giving her evil eyes or dirty looks for showing up to this place like she was in the running for Miss USA. "Besides… I think you look nice."

Caroline's head whipped around at that as she looked into his eyes and Stefan smiled gently before pulling a drink menu out of the place holder and examining it completely.

"I… looked nice for the last place we went to," she noted, as she thought back to the trendy restaurant they'd gone to Uptown, where they had wine and she'd actually ordered duck.

Despite her initial apprehension to get anything more than an appetizer when she looked at the prices on the menu, Stefan urged her it was okay and that he wasn't going to go broke over it.

And after her day with Enzo that consisted of a hair appointment, makeup workshop and wardrobe overhaul, she was going to need more than a plate of bruschetta to gain back all the energy he'd stolen and then some.

She'd realized, though, that all the trouble was definitely worth it, as Stefan stopped mid-sentence the second she walked back into Damon's penthouse and he could do nothing to tear his eyes away from her as she stared at him carefully before cracking a joke about being blonder, or something.

Caroline had no clue what she aid and Stefan barely did, either as she moved past him to the bedroom and he still stood there quietly; gathering his thoughts and trying to collect his thoughts long enough to let her know their reservation was for 7PM and she should probably get ready.

"Is this how you fish for compliments?" he joked after he put in their drink order and the waitress walked away. Caroline bit back a grin when he smiled when she noted the easy light in his eyes.

"I don't know, Stefan—is this how you go about making me feel like I'm the prettiest girl in the room? By taking me to a bar where my inches are 6 inches and everyone else's are two?"

"We don't have to stay if you feel uncomfortable," he said, when the waitress placed their drinks before them and he watched Caroline reach in. "There's…actually something interesting going on tonight—if you're into it. My friends, Lexi and Marcel—"

"You have friends?" she gasped sarcastically, and when Stefan tossed the wrapper to his straw at her, Caroline smiled brightly when he brought his drink to his lips and she swallowed down a sip before placing hers down. "I'm kidding—go on."

"My friends, Lexi and Marcel, are having a wine night—if you'd like to go… Marcel's dad is this huge wine mogul out on Long Island and I know it's last minute but—"

"Of course I'd love to go," Caroline said as she watched Stefan's smile spread to his cheeks before meeting his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

"I don't know—I thought it seemed like I was rushing things," he said as she rolled her eyes. "I didn't wanna move too fast—"

"Stefan—we're married," Caroline noted as she waved her hand and looked into the man's eyes as he let out a deep breath and ticked his jaw. "We're far past the stage of rushing things. Besides— I'm never gonna win your parents over if I don't step out of my world and into yours," she said before taking a sip of her drink. "What better way to show them I mean business than to infiltrate your circle?"

"It's a very small circle," he corrected. "Lexi Branson, Marcel Gerard, Josh Rosza and Sophie Deveraux…that's it; those are my friends. The only ones I've ever had."

"All the less people to win over, then," Caroline smirked as she downed the rest of her drink and hopped to her feet. "Let's go—I'm dying to be educated in Stefan 101. Do your friends know about our little mishap in Las Vegas?"

"Absolutely not and let's keep it that way. I trust them but not the people who will most likely be around when we tell them any stories."

"Lips sealed, it is," Caroline said as he paid the ball and they began to walk out. "Are we taking a cab or the subway?"

XXXXX

"So then I told Stefan—'Listen: if you're attempt to heat up that five day old burrito and have it for lunch, the least you could do is take it out of the foil—I have insurance, but even the best in the world won't cover a dumbass move like that."

"Marcel—you will never let me live that down, will you?" Stefan smiled and his friend gave him a pat on the back with a smile and a shake of the head, signifying that it was a losing battle and Stefan had indeed lost.

"Not a chance—I'm taking that one all the way to the grave."

"What are friends for, right?" Stefan winked as the two clinked drinks and Caroline smiled whole-heartedly as they stood in the living room to Lexi and Marcel's apartment.

She had been listening to his best friends gush about all the stupid and silly things they—or Stefan—had done in particular, over the years, and she couldn't help but smile when she realized this relaxed and reserved version of Stefan—even the Stefan she'd known in D.C—had a bit of a wild streak to him. The sweet and calm guy that he seemed to be much of the time was just the tip of the iceberg and Caroline couldn't wait to know more as the night went; that was, if she wasn't too drunk to remember any of it by the time they left.

With a glass of Mr. Gerard's finest pinot in hand and their host and hostess filling up their glasses every time they dwindled, it was pretty safe to say Caroline was bombed and it wasn't even 10:30 yet.

The EDM music blasting through the loft and the crowds of people talking, laughing, and having fun was enough to make her feel good but then every time her eyes casted over to Stefan—who was now being pinched at the cheeks by Lexi as she teased him for that mushroom haircut he had in the ninth grade—she felt even better.

Stefan's friends—Lexi, Marcel, Josh, and Sophie—were nothing like his parents and she could only whisper a silent praise as they welcomed her happily when Stefan broke the news that they were married and it had happened in Hawaii—just like Caroline told Klaus—instead of the Vegas quickie story that he knew would have garnered much deeper sighs and looks of regret.

If he could get his friends to believe in this, maybe his parents would too, and they would finally get off of his back. Besides—Caroline had already become a pro at dishing out all the faux Hawaii wedding details; as she gushed on about everything from the ocean, to the color of the sand to the flowers.

It was enough to trick his friends into believing it and their enthusiastic congratulations! followed by shots was all that he could have asked for.

He would eventually tell them the truth—Lexi, especially—but not tonight. Tonight, Caroline was his destined wife and he was her husband and the truth was better left buried where no one—especially not his parents could find it—even if every river in the world had run dry.

"You two are adorable," Lexi noted with a pout as she watched Caroline shift towards Stefan for good measure while he took hold of her hand. "I'm just upset you didn't tell us about it sooner—I would have definitely flown to Hawaii.

"Much better than that Hollywood shindig thing Katherine wanted—" Sophie stopped when she saw Stefan look to the ground and Caroline purse her lips as she smiled politely. "Oh wow—you know I'm drunk when I start talking about… her. I'm gonna go get some water and slap myself on the hand for that."

Caroline watched on as Sophie excused herself and the rest of Stefan's friends smiled brightly—awkwardly—as they each tried to pretend the K word hadn't been mentioned though Caroline had a feeling this was what Stefan didn't wanna let out of the bag.

The fact that he'd almost married someone else.

"She's sorry about that," immediately jumped in as he bounced back and forth between Stefan and Caroline's eyes. "I mean—you know; Katherine was her friend, too… She was… close with all of us."

"Unfortunately," Stefan replied.

"Stef, man—"Marcel started as he looked into his eyes. "I know it's been harder for you but—"

"But nothing," Stefan cut him off and Marcel pressed his lips shut. "If you all still wanna worship the ground my ex walks on, then be my guest—but I won't, anymore. I can't."

"Just because we want peace on the East Side doesn't mean we're choosing her, Stefan," Josh stated. "We just… it's hard for us to hate her when you never gave us a reason to…when you never gave us a reason to…You won't tell us why we should."

"I shouldn't need a reason," Stefan nearly raised his voice but stopped himself when he noticed the clear concern in Caroline's eyes before he shrugged a shoulder. The mood between the friends shifted dramatically as it became more than clear that Stefan's ex-girlfriend—or fiancé—was still a means for division. And right now? Caroline still had no idea why. "Listen, I'm gonna go to the bathroom—"

He stopped when the door to the loft opened and he saw her; the 5'7 brunette, with the long curls and black lashes as her eyes met his almost instantly and Stefan swallowed hard as the people by the door greeted her.

Embraced her, as if she'd known them all for years, though he was sure it was just seconds and they were already her puppets.

Just like his friends had been; just like he had been.

"Lexi, Marcel—"he started. "What the hell is she doing here?"

"I sent out a mass text," Marcel confessed as Stefan shook his head and Katherine's eyes remained locked on his; amusement dancing behind her gaze as she stared him down unashamedly. "It went to everyone."

"That and we didn't know you were coming, Stefan. I'm sorry—" Lexi said apologetically though it was too late, as Stefan let out a short scoff before downing the rest of his beer, turning on his heel, and walking out of the room.

Caroline stood there frozen for a second—eyeing his friend silently—before she finally took off after him. She felt Katherine's eyes follow her the entire way and for the first time in her life, she didn't want the attention.

She didn't want anything that Katherine Pierce happened to be selling.

As Caroline walked into the kitchen and saw Stefan holding a freshly opened bottle of Jack to his lips, she could only be left to wonder just what the hell it was that she'd gotten into. And if she'd be able to get out of it, with Stefan Salvatore and her marriage intact.

A/N; THANK YOU all for your continued reviews on this story—it means so much to me! I hope you enjoyed the sterocuddle in the beginning of the chapter, complete with some memories before Caroline had to go take a cold shower. Do you think the attraction is all in her head or is Stefan into too but just not as willing to show his cards? HMMM. How about Enzo and finally the introduction of Stefan's friends who seemingly are still friends with Katherine, even after whatever went on between them? Lastly—Katherine showing up, what do you think will happen? As always, I appreciate all of your kind words. R&R and until next time! xoxo