Chapter 4: The Beginning

The next morning Stefan ventured out towards the garden in search of Elena. He found her crouched over freshly tilled earth. When he approached, she was just beginning to dig small holes to place for the new daffodil bulbs she had purchased the day before.

"Good morning Elena," he said with his signature smile. Elena gazed up at him with a look of bewilderment on her face.

As if to answer her question he added, "Mrs. Flowers told me your name yesterday." Among other things I'm sure, Elena thought. "Would you like some help?" he questioned.

She appeared to think about it for a second and then promptly handed him a small garden shovel.

With tool in hand, he kneeled down next to her and began to dig additional holes. "What are you planting today?" he inquired. At this she reached behind her and pulled out a package of daffodil bulbs. "Ah, daffodils. They are nice flowers." Elena nodded in agreement.

Nearly half an hour later, the final bulbs were placed in the ground. At this Stefan stood from his spot on the ground and promptly reached out his hand to help Elena up. How chivalrous, she thought to herself. The duo promptly gathered the remaining tools and headed back into the boarding house.

"Where would you like these?" he asked gesturing to the small garden tools he had been carrying. She signaled for him to follow her and they quickly climbed the stairs to the third floor. As Elena walked ahead of him, to her room he assumed, he couldn't help but let his eyes travel down her backside. He took in her petite frame and the natural sway of her hips as she walked. There was no doubt about it. Elena was attractive. He became so distracted that he hardly even noticed when she stopped at a door at the end of the hall.

Stefan looked around suspiciously. How had he not noticed that Elena's room was right next door to his?

Elena promptly opened the door and walked over to a small toolbox at the foot of her bed. In an instant Elena had the box open and was beginning to put her tools inside.

Stefan took this opportunity to gaze around Elena's bedroom. The most prominent feature was the crimson comforter flowing off her bed with the half a dozen or so pillows placed neatly on top of it. From there he glanced to her nightstand. It was rather simple, only holding a small vase of flowers and an antique clock. To the left of the nightstand was a dark wooden trunk much like the one in his room, he noted.

It was at this point that he noticed Elena on the ground, staring back up at him. "Sorry," he stated and handed her the tools he had been carrying. When she had finished putting them away, she rose and sat in the oak chair in front of her desk. The desk, itself, only had a laptop and a small pencil cup. She's lives simply, he noted.

Elena gazed up at him as if to inquire about the questioning look on his face. Stefan took one last look around the room and said, "You don't have any pictures." At this Elena immediately became solemn. This room was so different from her room in high school. Back then her bedroom had been filled with photo collages of her friends, family and, of course, Matt. That room was so vivacious and cheerful. But her life now was anything but cheerful, and her room reflected that. She couldn't bring herself to display any pictures. Not of Matt, for obvious reasons, and especially not of any of her friends. After the incident her friends had been so comforting and supportive. But that only lasted for a short time. They soon gave up when they realized she wasn't going to speak to them. One of the saddest moments in your life is that moment when even your best friend doesn't understand you anymore. To that, Elena shook her head as a single tear ran down her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Elena," Stefan said genuinely. "I didn't mean to upset you." Elena looked back up at him and gave him a sad smile. With that he put a strong hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. Elena pulled a tissue out of one of her desk drawers and began to dab at her eyes.

Stefan felt a tiny pang in his heart. He knew what it was like to lose the one you loved. Even two hundred years later, he still thought of Katherine. She had been his first and only love. She had made him into… what he was today.

"I'm so sorry, Elena."

He wished he could make everything better for her. He wished he could take her pain away. But at this point, all he could do was let her know that he was there for her. There if she needed him and there if she wanted him to be.