Elena came over to Stefan's place around eight in the evening, a little bit after her dad flew back to the field. She thought about inviting him over to her house, but Jeremy already made plans with Bonnie, since her house was full for a change.
Maybe it's better that way. Her house made her uncomfortable every time her dad left. She hated how he kept leaving over and over and over again, and she feared that one of those times he won't come back. She wanted to talk to Stefan with a clear head.
She didn't want to create any more bad memories in the house, either, in case something goes wrong. She had enough of those for a lifetime.
As she pulled over in front of his house, she realized how stupid she was. How wrong she was, asking from him to do what she asked from him to do.
She knew Stefan. She knew he's been with many girls before her, and there probably will be many girls after her, and she accepted that. She tried to concentrate on who he is at the present time, how he's with her, and how he hasn't given her any reason to worry so far.
But every time someone pointed it out, she would feel this irrational jealousy, a feeling that doesn't even make sense. They weren't even friends back then. They were more of a frenemies. She knows she can't change who he was or who he has been with, and neither can he, no matter how much he tries. You can't change the past.
Maybe she's been jealous because something has been preventing her from being with him in that way. Or maybe him being with so many girls is what has been preventing her, and she wasn't even aware of it.
Whatever it was, it had to stop, because she knew it's going to ruin them. And she didn't want that.
She got out of her car and walked over to his front door, ringing the doorbell. He opened her in a matter of seconds, a forced smile lingering on his lips, to let her in. He hasn't even tried to kiss her, and as much as it had stung, she understood why. He was probably afraid she will explode if he tries to make a physical contact with her.
He leads her to kitchen and offers her something to drink. She says she doesn't want anything even though her throat is dry.
"Here," she pulls a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of her jeans and hands it to him.
"What's this?" he frowns as he takes the paper out of her hands.
"The list of guys I've been with," she says, and it makes her throat burn.
He raises his frowning look from the paper to her. "I never asked you to do this," he says, slowly unfolding the paper with his fingers.
"I know," she sucks in some air, trying to cool down her throat, "I only thought it's fair since I asked the same from you," she can feel the tears piercing through her eyes.
He exhales a small stream of icy air as he unfolds the small paper in his hands. His fingertips go over the edges of the paper, and he swallows.
Before he unfolds it completely, out of his back pocket he pulls his own paper. When he feels it in between his fingers, he realizes how much thicker his paper is than hers. Something gets stuck in his throat.
"Darling, you know this doesn't change anything?" he asks her before he hands her the paper. She grabs the paper hungrily, her eyes never leaving his. "Those girls, they don't mean anything to me. They never did."
Somehow, that doesn't make her feel better. Somehow, it only makes her feel worse.
"I know," she says nevertheless.
When she feels the thickness of the paper in between her fingers, she freezes. She starts unfolding it, though. She keeps her eyes locked on his face as he unfolds the paper completely and his look falls down on it.
His eyes widen in disbelief. There's only one name down there. Only one name.
Matt Donovan. Lucky bastard.
He has no idea why is he so struck by it. It shouldn't come as a surprise to him. Elena openly told him she's been in only one relationship, and she's not a kind of a girl who would ever sleep with anyone but a guy with whom she's in a relationship with.
He raises his look and finds hers already locked on his face. He tries to hide his disbelief, but feels like he doesn't succeed in doing so. His look falls on almost unfolded paper in her hands, and all of a sudden he feels.. bad. Worse. The worst.
Like this is never going to work. They're too different. She's never going to be able to get over that list. She's never going to be able to get over his past, even if he swears doing things like that is the last thing on his mind at the moment.
The scary thing is that it's true. Even if she does leave him, he can't see himself going to his old ways. And if he can't do that, and if he can't be with her either, what is he supposed to do?
He wants to run. He wants to disappear before her look falls down on that paper. He doesn't want to face the disappointment on her face.
But it's like someone glued his feet to the floor.
He's not worthy of her. He's only going to corrupt her.
He looks at her face carefully, and he sees a child. The same girl he knew all those years ago. She's taller, and curvier, and her hair is longer, but that look in her eyes. They way her eyes are wandering over his face curiously, like she's seeing him for the first time. Like she's only getting to know the world. That look. How did she manage to keep that look? That childlike curiosity.
He wanted her to keep looking at him like that, like she's amazed by what she's seeing in him. He doesn't want that look to be replaced by the look of disgust.
She deserves more. She's too pure, too good, too everything for him.
He could never deserve her, even if he lived thousand more lives.
She finally unfolds the piece of paper completely, and her look falls down on it. She scatters through the page, and her lips part slightly. She lets out a small stream of hot air that got stuck in her throat earlier.
"When did you.. " she finds herself unable to finish he sentence.
"14," he answers like he knows what she wants to ask.
"That's.." she doesn't raise her look from the paper, "Very young."
This is it. This is the part where he loses her.
"Who was your first?" she swallows, looking at the names on the list. There were too many of them. Far too many. 10 would be too many for her, but she knew there's more than 10.
"Melanie," he says her name without any emotion at all. It's not like she was desperately in love with Matt when she slept with him. But she felt for him, she cared for him. It was a nice memory, something she gets to hold onto. "Summer camp," he gives her more detail, and she can feel his voice is shaking. "There weren't as many of them in the beginning," he says, which makes her raise her head, "But as I grew older, it was easier, they were basically throwing themselves on me," he lowers his look so he doesn't have to make eye contact with her.
She does the same, and her look falls back on the names on the list. There are so many girls from the school. It's not a surprise no one is taking their relationship seriously when he slept with the half of the school.
"Does it make you feel better?" he puts his elbows on the kitchen island, "The list?" he says bitterly after she raises her confused look to him.
She presses her lips together. "No Stefan, it doesn't make me feel better," she huffs.
"Why did you make me write it then?" he asks, slightly annoyed.
The lines of her face relax and her whole weight falls down on her. "I don't know," she shrugs, "To see if you would."
He pulls his fingers through his hair. "That doesn't make any sense," he says, more annoyed than before.
Her cheeks get red out of anger. "Where's the difference, Stefan?" she raises her voice at him.
He looks at her confused. "The difference?" he furrows his brows.
"The difference between me and every girl on this list?" she raises her voice, looking him in the eyes.
She can see anger and pain flash inside of his eyes, and she doesn't know which emotion is more dominant. How will he react?
"The difference?" he asks the same question, but this time with a different tone of the voice. "You want to know the fucking difference?" he yells irritated, pushing himself off the kitchen island, making the blood in her veins freeze. "The difference is that you made me write this fucking useless list, knowing it will only give us more material to argue, and I did it anyway," he starts pacing across the room, never taking his eyes off of her, "Sometimes I think if you told me to throw myself off a bridge, I would, simply because I don't want to let you down, because I don't want to make you sad. It makes no fucking sense and it makes my fucking blood boil, because when it comes to you, I can't think straight. This is what you do to me, you turn me into a mad man. And I relish in every drop of that madness because it seems to make you feel happy and special, and you have no idea how much I love seeing that look on your face, the look of happiness and content. The difference is that I wouldn't write this for anyone else," he takes the paper out of her hands, and she trembles as he does so, not knowing is it out of fear or ecstasy or both. He crumbles the paper in his hand, making a small paper ball out of it. "I give you fucking nicknames and it makes me feel like a five year old, but the look on your face when I call you darling or beautiful makes it worth it," he looks like he lost all of his strength, like he's helpless, like all of the words got lost somewhere in the process, "The difference is that I fucking love you," he says breathlessly.
His look relaxes on her face, while her eyes widen in surprise. She stiffens next to the kitchen counter, clutching her hands to it.
"I love you, Elena," he swallows, scared of the words coming out of his mouth. He never said those words to anyone before. Except maybe when he was younger, but he has no memory of that. "I love the way you twist your hair around your finger, or how you blush every time I compliment you. I love how smart you are, even though it makes me feel like a complete tool sometimes. I love the way you care about people, even the ones you never met. I love how compassionate you are. I love the way you retell me the new episode of your favorite show, even though I have no fucking idea what you're talking about. I love how you can quote a book at any given time. I love the way you think and feel, the way you talk and laugh, the way you walk and touch. I love everything about you, but mostly I love the fact you gave me a chance to love all of those things," he looks at her helplessly, like a scared little boy. Like that boy who so many years ago fell out of her tree house and broke his arm. She loved that boy, even though she was just a child herself.
Now, she loves the man that boy grew up to be, and she loves him with everything she has, even with the child hidden deep inside of her.
"I'm falling in love with you, and there's not anything I can do about it. It makes me scared as hell, but I can't stop falling in love with you. I would keep on falling in love with you even if you froze time and us with it."
Her eyes fill with tears. How could have she been so stupid? She was acting like such an idiot, asking from him such a stupid thing, like making him to write a list of girls he was with, like it's going to change anything.
Like they're going to disappear if she burns the paper with their names on it.
Those girls, they mean nothing. He couldn't even remember the names of some of them.
He doesn't carry them with himself, they're slowly fading from his memory, as quick as they came into his life.
But she's a part of him now, and he will carry her everywhere with himself.
Even 50 years from now, when he's wrinkly and grey, holding some other woman's hand while watching their grandchildren play in the sand, he will remember her and the way she made him feel, because you never forget your first love.
He keeps on looking at her, waiting for her to say something. Anything.
She slowly walks over to him and stands before him, looking into his teary eyes. Eyes full of fear and expectation.
"You know what, Stefan?" she puts her open palms on his chest, holding his look with hers, "I fucking love you too," a smile appears on her face, which makes him smile as well.
She gets on her toes and presses her lips against his.
"Umm," she says as she detaches her lips from his, "Are we alone?"
"Yeah, why?" she can feel his hot breath on her lips.
"I was thinking.." she puts her hand on the nape of his neck, "Maybe we could go upstairs, to your room," she pushes herself down on her feet, looking into his eyes, trying to read every emotion he's going through.
"You don't have to," his voice trembles.
"I want to," she says determined, kissing the corner of his lips.
"You sure?"
"As sure as I'll ever be," she says, "Which is 100%, for your information," she smiles, and he smiles after her.
He takes her hand into his and leads her upstairs to his room, even though she knows the way.
He closes the door behind them, and when he turns around, he can see her holding the hem of her shirt already, ready to pull it over her head.
"No, no," he stops her, getting a confused look from her. "Let me do it," he smirks.
She drops her hands and lets him do whatever he wants to do. Before he peels her shirt off her body, he kisses her neck, removes her collar to the side, kissing the tip of her shoulders, and then, in one quick move, he pulls her shirt over her head.
She can't even remember lifting her arms to allow him to do so.
She helps him get his own shirt off. Once he does, the sight in front of her takes her breath away. She has seen him shirtless before, but this time she got a chance to concentrate on his torso especially.
He's freaking hot.
She lowers her lips on his chest and plants a small peck on it.
"You're rock hard," she hisses deliciously.
He frowns. "Already?" he looks down.
She rolls her eyes. "I mean your body," she giggles as she presses her palms onto his chest.
"I work out," she shrugs it off, like it's not a big deal.
"I can see that."
He smirks down at her as he puts his hands on her small waist, pushing her towards the bed. She can feel her legs touching the edge of the bed before she falls down on it. He places himself on top of her, holding his hands next to her head.
He kisses her lips. Then her neck. Her collar bone. Removes the straps of her bra and kisses her exposed shoulders. She reaches for her back and unclutches her bra, removing it from her body. He buries his head into her chest, and she puts her hands on the back of his neck, pulling her fingers up and down it.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs into her skin, his head going down to her stomach, planting kisses around her belly button. His voice makes her skin vibrate, covering it with goosebumps.
She reaches for his jeans and unzips them.
Like a pro, he thinks to himself.
He unzips her jeans as well, pulling them off her legs, while his jeans fall down his. He gets rid off his briefs before he does the same with her panties.
She blushes as she lays there in front of him, completely naked.
She blushes, and he falls in love with her a little bit more than he loved her a minute ago.
She tries to cover herself up, but he stops her, shaking his head.
"Turn the lights off at least, then," her voice jumps a little.
He shakes his head again, throwing the covers on the other side of he bed.
"You can see everything," she swallows those words, saying them so silently she's not even sure she said them at all.
"That's kinda the point," he smiles at her, confirming the words indeed came out from her mouth. "You're incredibly beautiful," he compliments her, and she blushes some more, "I do not understand why would you have a reason to be ashamed of your body," he lowers himself on top of her again, pulling his fingers over her stomach. Then, his fingers stop on a bump, and he remembers. Her scar, the place where the bullet went it, the same place from which they took it out.
"That shouldn't be there," she gulps.
"I don't care."
"I still think we should turn the lights off."
"No. I want to see you. The way your body bends, the way light and shadow play on it as you move, every facial expression you make. I want to see it all."
She could understand that. It was probably a turn on for guys, watching the way women experience pleasure, pleasure they provide them with.
"Okay," she gives in. She freezes because she has no idea what to do next, and he keeps looking at her.
So she pushes him off herself and makes him fall on the bed next to her. She climbs herself on top of him. If he wants to look so much, the least she can do is to provide him with a good show.
His hands instantly fall on her naked hips. She smiles at him, and a huge grin appears on his face.
She places herself on top of him, and bites her lower lip as he fills her from the inside. She gasps a little, so she presses her lips together to stop herself from gasping furthermore.
His ego doesn't need anymore growth.
When she adjusts herself, and when she finds the position she's the most comfortable in, she slowly starts moving on top of him.
His hands start climbing up her body until they finally reach her breasts.
She starts moving faster, quickening her pace.
She wants to keep herself from moaning, but she can't.
So she moans, quietly, and then louder.
When her back start to ache, she lowers her torso on his, letting him do some work now.
He removes his hands from her breasts, since it's an uncomfortable position now, and he places them on her ass. He squeezes her roughly before he starts pounding into her, and she continues moaning loudly.
Her voice is even sweet while she moans, Stefan thinks to himself, surprised he's able to make a valid though at the moment. He doubts he could make a sentence, though.
Then, her whole body stiffens, like a rock. The only reason she knows she's still human is a hot, boiling blood in her veins. The blood in her body is like a flowing river, getting faster and faster with every new wave the splashes against the land. She can feel her own blood splashing against the insides of her body.
Her heart starts pounding wildly. Thump. Thump. Thump. She knows this is not normal, and she wonders what's going on with her. But even though these symptoms point to something bad, they're providing her with extensive pleasure, so her train of thoughts is stopped immediately.
She feels like she's going to explode.
She starts sweating, and her hair is glued to her face and the skin on her back.
Her breath gets lost in her throat before it becomes harder to breathe.
Her mind becomes fuzzy. Foggy. Unreadable. There are no thoughts there.
And then, a splash. An eruption inside of her body.
She relaxes.
But she feels tired as well. He lets go off her and she rolls off of him, on the other side of the bed.
"What," she says while trying to catch her breath, "Was that?" she covers her face with her palms.
"You see, when two people really love each other, they - "
"You're not amusing," she interrupts him in the middle of his sentence, "I don't mean the sex, I mean the feeling," she removes her palms from his face to look at him, "I've never felt like that before," she says as she tries to remember the time when Matt made her feel like that, but she couldn't.
He furrows her brows. "Felt like what?"
"Like I'm going to explode. Like my mind is shutting off."
He chuckles. "You just had an orgasm," he shrugs it off like it's not big deal. Then his face becomes serious, "Wait," he looks at her, his eyes wide in surprise, "Are you trying to tell me you never had an orgasm before?"
She frowns. "I guess not. My sex with Matt was pretty plain. I've never been on top before," she meets his surprised look, "I've felt some pleasure, but never like this."
"Wow," Stefan gasps, "If you weren't my girlfriend, I would tease Matt so much," he grins.
She comes closer to him. "And why won't you tease him now?" she asks with a smile on her face.
He smiles back at her, bringing his face closer to hers. "Because I love you," their noses touch.
"Say it again."
"I love you. I love you. I love you."
AN: I hope an "I love you" + sex in one chapter make up for neither in he past 20 of them.
Thank you for your reviews, you're all kinds of wonderful.