It was the equivalent of walking into a lion's den. Or at least that's what Elena thought. But the more she thought, the more realized that lions were, to some level, tamable. They performed in circuses where the ringleader stuck his head inside their open mouths. They formed bonds with humans and remembered them after years of separation. Elena didn't know if Originals could be like that, and it was for that thought she knew that stepping into the Mikaelson home was much worse than entering a lion's den. After everything she'd gone through, she would take the lions.

"Rebekah," she said in surprise when the Original appeared in the doorway. She half expected to Finn to answer or even Klaus, but not Rebekah. On reflex, she took a step back as she remembered the events that had transpired earlier that day.

"What do you want?" Rebekah bit out, lilting voice different than usual. Somehow more tired as though all she wanted to do was sleep.

"Is uh," Elena stuttered, "Is Elijah here?" Rebekah wanted to tell the doppleganger wench to go to hell or run back to her Salvatore boys, but Elijah's words from earlier still rang in her ears. Are we? Are we really better than they are? She stood back and held the door open and gestured for Elena to enter.

"He's in his room," she said, "Down the hall from our mother's. You remember where that is, don't you?" The malice was thinly veiled and Elena ducked her head as she hurried up the stairs. She heard the door bang shut behind her and when she turned, Rebekah had gone.

She found Elijah's room with ease, something in the air leading her. It was as though she was a compass hand and he was due North. Or that they were both magnets being drawn to one another. Whatever romantic notion suited her thoughts; she found she couldn't pick one. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was reminded of the other dopplegangers and how they were cursed with indecision. Yet another way I'm like Katherine.

She didn't bother to knock, merely opened the door and stepped into his room. The door closed with a soft 'click' and she fell back against it. Elijah stood in the center of the room, moving between his closet and his bed where a suitcase rested. With a methodical system reserved only for himself, he was packing his collection of suits as though they were fine China. She didn't bother saying anything; no introduction or nervous gesture. He knew she was there and they were both waiting for what she had to say.

"I got your note," she said, holding up the letter in question that she had tucked firmly into it's envelope after reading it again and again until the letters blurred. Elijah didn't even acknowledge she had spoken.

"You can't leave." His head tilted slightly in her direction as he neatly folded a tie. It struck her as odd that an Original would pack. The action was so… human.

"I believe the term is, 'It's a free country,'" he said and she wanted to smack him. But smacking an Original was a stupid idea period and smacking Elijah after what she'd done to him was even worse.

"I'm sorry," she said and honestly believed if she said it enough times, she might erase everything that had happened. He fetched a jacket from the closet and instead of folding it, carefully placed it inside a garment bag. The next item added to his suitcase was what looked like shoe polish and cologne. She'd never noticed what cologne he'd worn before and suddenly found herself curious. Her body reacted without her consent and she found herself coming to stand beside him next to the bed. She plucked the cologne from his hand and studied the brand, mouth quirking to the side when she didn't recognize it. Her eyes traced his hands to the line of his arms, up the lapels of his jacket, and finally to his eyes that were focused on his obsessive packing.

"Would you just look at me?" Her voice cracked midway through her request and she hadn't meant to whisper. It didn't matter though. He could hear her request and the apology behind it the same way he heard her heartbeat and knew she was a liar. She wondered if she was a liar worth forgiving. His eyes rose and met hers.

"Satisfied?" he asked, zipping his suitcase shut without looking down. He hoisted the strap over his shoulder with the ease of someone who had left many times before. The act of leaving was nothing new to him, but saying goodbye was.

"Not until you stay," she said and reached out to fiddle the leather of his strap. It was worn soft and in immaculate condition, the same as the man before her. She wondered how long he had had this bag and what adventures they had seen together. She suddenly wished she were something as inanimate and insignificant as a suitcase so she could go with him. Maybe Bonnie could turn her into a garment bag? No, she would prefer to be his favorite jacket so he would pull her on everyday and she could hold him forever.

"I'm leaving," he said, words deliberate. Everything about him was deliberate and she wanted to see what he looked like non-deliberate. Hair mussed and in jeans. Maybe playing a board game as trivial as Candy Land. Or maybe Monopoly. What piece would he choose to be?

"Please don't," she said, "I can't have you hate me." His eyes fells shut and Elena watched as he forcibly removed a few stones in his walls just to accommodate her. Others had let her into their lives and had welcomed her openly, but it meant nothing when she saw Elijah consciously remove the barriers between them in order for her to get at him. His hand rose and brushed a lock of hair away from her face before coming to rest on her cheek.

"I could never hate you, Elena," he promised and she wrapped her hand around his wrist, tethering him to this moment in the hopes she was strong enough to anchor him here, with her, forever.

"Then don't go, don't leave me." He leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her brow. It was a mere whisper against her skin and she thought she imagined it as her eyes slid shut. She inhaled the scent of his cologne and vowed to never forget it. Her grip on his wrist tightened and his whispered against her skin, lips ghosting over her flesh and sending chills down her spine.

"I will come back." She realized what he was going to do a moment too late. When she opened her eyes, she was met with an empty room and her hand was grasping at air. The suitcase and garment bag were gone and with them, their owner. In their stead were his cologne and the damned letter that had started this all, clutched tightly in her hands. Frantically, she tore the envelope to pieces in a violent attempt to get at the letter and promises it contained.

Always and forever,

Elijah

If there was one thing Elena Gilbert knew to be true it was this:

Elijah was a man of his word. And he would come back. Always and forever.

a/n: So freaking fluffy, I might die. Especially that list bit. Which I own. But I still don't own the characters and Julie still hasn't asked me to come write with her.

Fave, flame, faint.

oxox.