Stefan was unsatisfied with the way his conversation with Damon had gone. He'd been foolishly hoping for some sort of denial, some sort of assurance from his brother. No, Stefan. Don't be a brooding ass. What would I want with your boring high school girlfriend? Sure, she'd be a tasty snack, a fun few nights, maybe, but she's not worth the trouble. You're the one who loves the melodrama, baby brother.
He'd gotten nothing of the sort. Damon said they were just friends, but Stefan knew that Damon had added a silent phrase to that sentence: "for now." Stefan knew that Damon would have no qualms about taking Elena from him if she ever had a weak moment.
What makes her look at him like that? Stefan wondered as he paced broodingly around his book-strewn bedroom. Doesn't she mind that he's a ruthless killer? An unremorseful monster? His mind was endlessly replaying the events of the last few days. In the Grill, Elena hadn't reacted as he would have liked when Isobel accused her of being with both he and Damon, as Katherine had. Her lovely mouth had dropped open, but she had said nothing. Nothing. No enraged, indignant denial. No response at all. Stefan had just dropped his head in dread in that moment. He'd seen the flirtation between Elena and Damon for months, but it hadn't really occurred to him that there was anything more to it. Now, he was replaying and re-evaluating every moment he'd witnessed between his brother and his girlfriend – that hug outside the tomb when Katherine had not been inside, the way she stayed with Damon outside his cell in the basement when he was detoxing. Stefan paused on that for a moment – why did they stay the night together outside that door? What had passed between them while he distracted by the agony of hunger?
Stefan couldn't stand the direction of his own thoughts any longer. He needed to see her sweet face. He knew he'd find the reassurances he needed in her soft eyes, in her warm arms.