Disclaimers: Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore and friends, along with the Vampire Diaries I - IV belong to L.J. Smith. Everything else is mine. No harm intended or money made from this fic.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
~ Seven ~
When he woke, she was gone.
She was at work, he saw, when he looked for her there. She was far from her typical self but he thought she did not look as strained as she had been the day before. Reassured that she had not left him, Stefan took himself off to the park to brood.
::So, Salvatore,:: a brisk voice in his head said conversationally. ::How does it feel to be tearing the girl you love apart? You're doing a _much_ better job now single-handedly than you and your brother managed to do together.::
::That's not fair! All I ever wanted was for her to be happy–:: he said defensively.
::Correction; all you ever wanted was to be with her and be happy. That's not quite the same thing, you'll agree.:: The voice of his better sense pointed out.
::Fine, but I certainly did _not_ set out to make her miserable. I just...never thought that being with me would make her _un_happy.::
::Well, the fact remains that your overwhelming obsession with her and your equally pronounced sexism – yes, you saw that in her head too, didn't you? – are doing precisely that. So now you have to ask yourself, Stefan; do you love her enough – and here I am going to assume that love is what this is all about – to sacrifice your own happiness for hers? Even if it means leaving her?::
At this, Stefan fell silent. It was never easy to recognize and acknowledge selfishness in one's self.
::No,:: he said slowly. His resolve grew with each statement as he said to himself, almost defiantly, ::I can't walk away from her. But I'll make it up to her; I'll make her happy; I know I can. Whatever the future holds – I'll take what I can get.::
* * *
The apartment was dark when she got back. Elena felt a pang of fear before she noticed the faint yellow light in the kitchen.
::A power outage?:: she wondered. ::I could have sworn there was light...::
She stood in the threshold of the kitchen and stared in amazement. On the table, dinner was set for two. Twin silver-domed covers reflected the dancing candle flames. Stefan, looking utterly delicious with the light playing across the panes of his face came towards her. He reached for her hands and drew her through the doorway. She did not resist as he ushered her towards the table and held her chair for her in a courtly manner.
She caught his hand as he started to go to his own seat. "Stefan, what is this?"
His free hand covered hers and he dropped to one knee. "I realized that instead of counting down the days we have together, I should be _living_ each day as it comes. I don't know what the future holds, but I'm not going to spend the time we _have_ worrying about it.
"I realized also that the only way to prove to you that I will love you, now and always, regardless of your physical appearance or circumstance, is to show you. And I realized that love does not limit or stifle; if you want to do new things with your life, I'll try not to hamper you – it may take a while," he admitted, smiling ruefully. "But I pledge to try."
He became grave, as befitting a solemn declaration. "I love you, Elena Gilbert."
She was smiling through tears. "Oh, Stefan." He took her hand and laid it against his cheek in the time-honored gesture of love and deep respect, then turned his head to kiss her palm. She slipped off the chair and into his arms. Tonight, her tears were sweet and they had to reheat dinner by the time they got around to it.
Notes:
~ Chapter ~
::Thoughts or telepathy::
_emphasis or italics_
~ Seven ~
When he woke, she was gone.
She was at work, he saw, when he looked for her there. She was far from her typical self but he thought she did not look as strained as she had been the day before. Reassured that she had not left him, Stefan took himself off to the park to brood.
::So, Salvatore,:: a brisk voice in his head said conversationally. ::How does it feel to be tearing the girl you love apart? You're doing a _much_ better job now single-handedly than you and your brother managed to do together.::
::That's not fair! All I ever wanted was for her to be happy–:: he said defensively.
::Correction; all you ever wanted was to be with her and be happy. That's not quite the same thing, you'll agree.:: The voice of his better sense pointed out.
::Fine, but I certainly did _not_ set out to make her miserable. I just...never thought that being with me would make her _un_happy.::
::Well, the fact remains that your overwhelming obsession with her and your equally pronounced sexism – yes, you saw that in her head too, didn't you? – are doing precisely that. So now you have to ask yourself, Stefan; do you love her enough – and here I am going to assume that love is what this is all about – to sacrifice your own happiness for hers? Even if it means leaving her?::
At this, Stefan fell silent. It was never easy to recognize and acknowledge selfishness in one's self.
::No,:: he said slowly. His resolve grew with each statement as he said to himself, almost defiantly, ::I can't walk away from her. But I'll make it up to her; I'll make her happy; I know I can. Whatever the future holds – I'll take what I can get.::
* * *
The apartment was dark when she got back. Elena felt a pang of fear before she noticed the faint yellow light in the kitchen.
::A power outage?:: she wondered. ::I could have sworn there was light...::
She stood in the threshold of the kitchen and stared in amazement. On the table, dinner was set for two. Twin silver-domed covers reflected the dancing candle flames. Stefan, looking utterly delicious with the light playing across the panes of his face came towards her. He reached for her hands and drew her through the doorway. She did not resist as he ushered her towards the table and held her chair for her in a courtly manner.
She caught his hand as he started to go to his own seat. "Stefan, what is this?"
His free hand covered hers and he dropped to one knee. "I realized that instead of counting down the days we have together, I should be _living_ each day as it comes. I don't know what the future holds, but I'm not going to spend the time we _have_ worrying about it.
"I realized also that the only way to prove to you that I will love you, now and always, regardless of your physical appearance or circumstance, is to show you. And I realized that love does not limit or stifle; if you want to do new things with your life, I'll try not to hamper you – it may take a while," he admitted, smiling ruefully. "But I pledge to try."
He became grave, as befitting a solemn declaration. "I love you, Elena Gilbert."
She was smiling through tears. "Oh, Stefan." He took her hand and laid it against his cheek in the time-honored gesture of love and deep respect, then turned his head to kiss her palm. She slipped off the chair and into his arms. Tonight, her tears were sweet and they had to reheat dinner by the time they got around to it.