Elena sighs, looking at the many vases of flowers cluttering up her kitchen and living room – all long since withered. Kol ghosted her, a few weeks back, and Elena hasn't had the time or energy – or frankly, the desire – to throw out the last few bouquets he gave her.

She knows that Kol's absence is for the best; Damon and Stefan have certainly told her that enough times.

But… Elena can't help but miss Kol. At least a bit.

The way he would smile at her as he held out a new bouquet of flowers: as if Elena made him happy, just by accepting them.

The way his fingers would brush against hers when they walked: as if he wanted to hold her hand, but hadn't yet worked up the nerve to ask.

The way he would ilook/i at her when she spoke: as if he was more than admiring her face and her figure. (As if her words imattered/i.)

It was… sweet.

If sweet were a word that could ever be applied to a thousand-year-old homicidal maniac. Elena reminds herself that her thing with Kol only started because she was trying to distract him so he wouldn't kill Matt. She reminds herself of Elijah's stories about Kol – about his repeated warnings that his little brother was the worst of them.

(Elena isn't sure how anyone can be worse than iKlaus/i.)

Elena tosses the dead flowers in the trash, and looks at the vases. With Kol gone, she doesn't think there's any reason to keep so many – she's unlikely to ever need more than one or two vases at a time, going forward.

But she can't bring herself to throw them out. (Not yet.) It would be admitting what she already knows: that Kol is gone, and he isn't coming back.

That whatever drew him to her, his attraction – his iattention/i - has faded. And it isn't coming back. iHe/i isn't coming back.

Elena sighs, leaving the vases where they are for now. She can deal with them later: they aren't hurting anyone.

A week later, Elena is curled up on the sofa reading a book, when the doorbell rings.

It's Andrew, from the florist closest to the Mystic Grill – with a dozen red roses, in a beautiful glass vase. Elena takes them. She looks - but there's no card.

Elena wonders if Damon is playing with her – rubbing in the fact that Kol is no longer interested. He constantly snarked about the flowers.

Elena puts down the vase on the end table, but before she can tip Andrew, he waves her off, telling her that isn't all.

His assistant walks up behind him, holding another vase of red roses. It looks like the bouquet contains slightly more than a dozen this time – perhaps fifteen.

"What's going on?" Elena asks.

Andrew shrugs. "I was given specific instructions," he tells her. "And I don't question my best customer."

"Your best cust…?" Elena trails off, as Andrew points to his delivery van. A second assistant waves at Elena – and then starts unloading the back.

And keeps unloading.

And ikeeps/i unloading.

Some of the vases are too large and heavy for Elena to carry, and so she steps aside (careful to issue no invitation) and tells Andrew where she wants them.

By the time Andrew and his assistants are done, Elena's living room is full of bouquets of red roses – consisting of various sizes, from two or three roses in small vases, to gigantic bunches of what look like ihundreds/i of roses.

Elena isn't sure she's ever seen so many bouquets in one place before.

Not even at a florist.

There are easily ithousands/i of red roses altogether, on every surface of her living room and kitchen.

When Elena tries to tip Andrew, he shakes his head, telling her that everything has already been taken care of. He says there's no card, and he won't give her any other information – including who sent the roses.

Elena sighs, and closes the door. When she turns around, she just… stops, for a moment, and admires the bouquets, and wonders what on earth she is meant to do with so many flowers.

The doorbell rings again, and Elena turns to open the door.

It's Kol.

He's holding the largest bouquet of red roses she's ever seen. Elena didn't know that it was possible to fit that many flowers in one bouquet.

It looks like a rose ibush/i. There must be a thousand stems. (Kol bears the weight like it's nothing, but Elena knows there's no way she'll be able to carry it.)

"Elena…" Kol murmurs her name softly, and their eyes meet for the first time in weeks.

Elena knows that she's focusing on the wrong things – but she doesn't want to think about what it means, that Kol is back after so long away. (Are his affections so fickle…?)

"Kol," Elena greets him back, trying to keep her voice neutral. "Where have you been?" she asks, and perhaps she reveals more of her hurt at Kol's abandonment than she intends, because his face crumples – he looks like he'd rather she have stabbed him.

"My bastard brother drove a dagger into my heart," he tells her. "Nothing less could have kept me away."

Elena swallows, her mind racing. Why would Klaus…?

"I'm sorry I was gone so long, love. I hope I can still call you that. Because I do love you, Elena," Kol tells her. "I'm going to love you forever, my darling, and you know I don't say that lightly." He holds out the bouquet like an offering.

He waits there patiently, love and hope and fear written across his face so clearly.

Elena just stands there, looking at him. His face starts to fall as Elena makes no move to take the bouquet.

"I'm not going to be able to lift that," she tells him, and Kol looks at her, clearly uncertain. "Why don't you come in?" she murmurs, her heart in her throat.

He smiles, bright and ijoyous/i.

In a flash, Elena is cradled in his arms, and she's tilting her face up to him, and he's leaning down, and then…

They're kissing, softly at first, tentatively – and then passionately, as Kol realizes that Elena is responding, and deepens the kiss.

Later, they lie in bed, naked and basking in the afterglow, and Kol grabs a rose, gently trailing the petals from her neck, to her breasts, his lips following to press kisses everywhere it touches.

"I love you too," Elena whispers, like a secret.

Kol smiles, teasing her nipple with the rose until it tightens, sensitive and wanting; and then he presses a kiss there.

"I know," he murmurs back. Elena pushes him onto his back, and Kol moves easily under her touch.

"You know?" Elena asks, her voice a bit snarky. He reaches up, and brushes her hair off her face, and cups her cheek tenderly.

"It's the best thing that's ever happened to me - iyou're/i the best thing that's ever happened to me," Kol tells her, his expression almost painfully sincere.

Elena thinks that he deserves another kiss – so she gives it to him.

And another. And another.

Everything else can wait.