"I could smell something; that was the first thing, the sense that came back to me before anything else. At first I couldn't place it, but my stomach groaned for it while my mouth filled with saliva. I know hunger, I'm a vampire, but this was such a new feeling. When my eyes opened, I remember cringing at the sunlight coming in through the windows and how my sight just wouldn't adjust. My skin burned, it seemed to be too taut across my body and, though I was completely naked, the sheets felt like they were made of steel wool. It didn't matter – the pain in my eyes, the way my skin screamed – I wanted to devour the source of that smell. Standing, I fell to one knee as I tried to gain my balance, all the while inhaling deeply, tracking the scent of something warm and fresh. As I grew even dizzier, my squinting eyes searched the room. It was not very large, but it was open and I could see pretty much every part of the small home from my crouched position next to the quilted bed.

To my right were two arm chairs, plaid and dusty. To the left of the bed was a large oak desk with an old radio playing an Italian folk song and it helped me place myself. I was in Lindsey's grandmother's home. From there I knew where to find the proprietor of that intoxicating scent. With that knowledge, I was empowered. I stood again and took large steps, crossing the space from the bed where I'd been laying to the round kitchen table with a good speed, but lacking grace - I broke a vase and the glass of a picture frame, knocked over a bowl of water and a wooden chair, but I made it to the table.
The moment I laid eyes on the fresh loaf of French bread, I knew it was what I'd been looking for. I can't tell you how elated I felt to see it there, within my reach – still warm from the oven. I ripped the heel off and bit into it with an aggression… much like, well, much like I had bit into veins and arteries. The crust was tough and flaky, but the inside melted in my mouth. Dropping the heel onto the floor, I picked up the loaf and began to gut it with ferocity. I was elbow deep in the hollow crust when Gia and Lindsey come in the front door – catching me red handed, and naked."
Stefan spoke enthusiastically, making a dramatic scene to explain his first memory after waking as a human following the Temple sacrifice. During the plane ride from Rome, he'd practiced – being sure to make it seem as pleasant and exciting as he could. From what Lindsey had told him, what Elena, Caroline, and Bonnie witnessed when he died on the Temple floor was enough memory of pain and suffering for anyone to endure. Stefan decided that the edited French bread story was funny and light-hearted enough to share, less the details of his bleeding insect bites, blistered sun burnt skin, the sky-high temperature that he carried for over a week, and the way his body reacted after he wolfed down the bread.
He could only liken it to when he had the flu as a young teenager, but tenfold. He wretched up the food, the water he'd drank with Gia's assistance, and what seemed like gallons of stomach bile across the old wooden floor of Lindsey's grandmothers kitchen; ending the twenty minute vomiting bender on his hands and knees beside the kitchen table, covered in sweat and puke splatter, with a nose bleed like a gushing floodway after a heavy rainfall.

Sitting around a large, corner-booth table, they laughed at the image of him standing naked with his arm in a tube of French bread. After the initial hugs and kisses and tight grasping, as if to test to make sure he was really there, Caroline suggested they go to an Ihop to grab breakfast and talk about what, how, and when. They'd all ordered, but he'd already finished his burger and fries - His endless appetite another trait of being seventeen.

"What did they do?" Bonnie asked through her chuckles, her hands teepee'd over her mouth and hazel eyes wide with amusement.

"What could they do… they didn't really know what to expect either." He smiled, sipping his second cup of coffee.
"I just." Elena couldn't take her eyes off of him, wouldn't move too far away; she was in awe. "When was this?"
Stefan could see that Elena was overwhelmed, just as he still was. Taking her hand in his, raising it from his leg to his lips and kissing her fingers, he continued, "Sometime in mid-February. The bread, that was on the 17th, but they said I was coming to a few days earlier." He turned his head and spoke to the group again. "Lindsey said that they weren't sure if their spell had even worked because Damon interrupted them right at the end. Once Rebekah took Klaus, and I guess you guys had left, they performed a locator spell. Damon had taken me quite a distance; it took them about a day and half to find me."
"So you were in a coma or something?" Elena questioned, a concerned look on her face as she, once again, inspected the man sitting next to her, not sure what she was looking for.
Stefan paused for a moment too long, telling Elena he was keeping something to himself, "Yea, I guess so." He cleared his throat, "I guess Damon thought the sun would do away with my body, he took my ring." Elena's free hand impulsively reached for the lapis lazuli ring hanging from the long beaded chain around her neck. Stefan's eyes moved to her, watching as she held it between her fingers, a knowing smile on his face as he spoke. "Cruz and Tomas came for me and took me back to Naples. After that I don't remember much, just waking up to the smell of that bread."
"What kind of spell was it?" Bonnie asked inquisitively.
"It has some kind of a connection to Lupercalia. Kind of like the original Mardi Gras. I'd unknowingly been drinking a spelled lamb's blood to help with my cravings, or so I thought."
Caroline laughed, "That stuff was terrible!"
"It wasn't that bad!" Stefan smiled. "Lindsey had used some ancient fig tree leaves associated with Lupercalia to bind the spell… I guess she was expecting something to go wrong."
"Lupercalia…" Bonnie sighed, "that sounds familiar"
"It probably is, given your family history. It's meanings have changed over the years, but the original significance was for purification and fertility." Stefan took three French fries from Elena's plate and shoved them in his mouth, chewing and swallowing before continuing. Elena lit up inside at how at ease they were with each other. "Lindsey used the time of Lupercalia to purify my body of what made me a vampire and give me new life."
"Seriously, this is insane. You're human?" Caroline asked, her voice neutral, but she was fighting a great wave of envy as she watched her friend, her mentor, devouring a plate of fries, just like a regular guy – her mind seeing fleeting images of blue eyes the color of a sun bleached sky smiling down at her, shining with worship.
"Pretty much. I've got a lot more life experience, but yea… everything else is just like a seventeen year old."
"So, you've got an endless appetite and are constantly thinking about sex?" Caroline teased.
Stefan's eyes cut to Elena as his mind registered the words.

She was all he could think of. Even more so than when he'd been a vampire and he couldn't help but attribute that to the ultra-active sex drive of the teenaged male.
Elena caught his glance and flushed a bit under his fiery gaze, but she didn't look away. They shared a silent, secret, and undivided moment – remembering the nights they'd made love, imagining what it would be like to experience each other again. Sitting so confidently, talking with her best friends, so enticingly desirable in a pair dark brown cargo shorts and a red long sleeved Henley with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, Elena couldn't help but want him - He looked both familiar and tantalizingly foreign.
"Better than thinking about blood." He finally responded, breaking their sultry gaze. Then added in a light-hearted voice as he gave Elena's hand a gentle squeeze. "Besides, it's a lot more fun to obtain."
They continued like that for another hour or so. Stefan explained that he would have to let go of the college degrees that he had obtained over his 164 years, and would be starting college in the fall. Saying that though he had money from the Salvatore family business it wouldn't last forever and since he could no longer use compulsion to get what he needed, he'd be finding a job soon. They could hear his eagerness in his voice; living life as a human had been an unattainable fantasy and it had finally come to be.
Nearing two in the morning, Bonnie suggested they call it a night and Stefan offered to walk them. Bonnie and Caroline seemed to lag behind a bit to give Elena and Stefan some space, some room to talk, but they'd been walking for over five minutes in silence, their fingers entwined. There were so many things to talk about – the time they'd been apart, how Elena was doing, how Stefan was coping, catching up with things about their friends and Damon, planning for their future – it was difficult to know where to start. As their eyes found each other once again, sharing shy smiles, Elena finally spoke – the first thing that came out of her mouth would have to do, she just couldn't think straight, not with him here, looking like he was, watching her with that look in his eyes.
"Why did you wait so long? It's been like a month since you woke up, right?"
Stefan swallowed, another sign to Elena that he was not being honest. "I had to get myself together. Learn how to do this again. I didn't want to show up at your door being more of a problem for you than anything else."
"You wouldn't have been a problem, Stefan." Elena hugged his arm as they walked, her head resting on his shoulder. "How did you find us in Miami?"
"Cruz."
"Cruz." Elena said his name like a fact. "I need to talk to you about that…"
"I figured we were going to have this conversation." He laughed, putting his arm around her shoulders. Elena's arm moving around his waist, thumb slipping in his belt loop.
"Why didn't you tell me that you knew him?" Elena asked.

When she'd gone to Spain, she'd asked Stefan and Damon to give her space to think. Stefan, as she expected, had respected her wishes, or so she had thought. When she saw Cruz standing on the Temple, she'd been too grief stricken to question it. Afterwards, in the silence that fell over her in the weeks after Stefan's death, she'd come to understand that Stefan had asked Cruz to keep his eye on her while she was in Spain.
"Tell you that the guy you were hanging out with was actually a warlock acting as a spy for your vampire ex-boyfriend? Would that have went over well?"
Elena gave a small laugh, "Probably not."
"I just wanted to be sure you were safe. I wanted you to have a great time, something you'd never forget. Since I couldn't be there with you, I asked Cruz to help."
Elena cringed a bit, remembering her great times in Spain – how she'd thought Cruz had a thing for her, just like the innocent crush she'd had on him. She wondered if Stefan knew about their flirty relationship. Her silence led him to continue. "Don't close up on me now. After all of the things we've been through, you making out with Cruz while we were broke up is not on my radar. Really, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" Elena questioned, gazing up at him, the street lamps glittering in her eyes. "I don't know why I acted like that in Spain." Her words carried a lot more than an apology for her actions with Cruz – Stefan knew she was talking about her weekend with Damon, as well.
Stopping and turning to her, cupping her face in his hands, Stefan furrowed his brow "Elena, it doesn't matter. Not anymore. Just let it go. I –"
"Get a room!" Caroline teased, interrupting Stefan. Elena's heart hurt, wondering if she'd missed out on hearing him say the three words she'd dreamed of him saying to her for the last four months. Stefan's hands moved from her face as he took her hand in his, the intense moment over. "Are you staying here, too?" Caroline gestured up to the tall white and glass building they'd stopped in front of.
"The W?" Stefan laughed, running a restless hand through his hair. "Isn't this a couple hundred a night?"
"Well, if there is anything I learned from Klaus it was how to travel in style. Want me to get you a room?" She smiled with a wink.
For a fleeting moment he considered it, but his morality wouldn't allow it. "No, that's fine. I'm over at the Hilton."
Caroline felt a ping of guilt for a moment. She knew that Stefan never took full of advantage of the ability to compel to get the best of the best for free, and because of how much he meant to her, his opinion carried a lot of weight. "Suit yourself." She replied with a smile.
"I'm beat." Bonnie crossed her arms in front of her. "and I need to call Jeremy."
"That's something I need to talk to you guys about." Stefan was serious for a moment, his brow furrowed and eyes full of concern – much like he had been for most of the time Elena had known him. "I can't go back to Mystic Falls, no one can know about this - About me."
Elena gasp involuntarily. If he wasn't coming back to Mystic Falls and no one could know, how would they work out being together?
Stefan turned to her, "At least not yet." He continued. "I've never heard of a vampire becoming human again, and I guarantee you that if this gets out its going to cause a lot of trouble and bring a lot of unwanted visitors our way."
"So what are you going to do? Stay in Miami forever?" Caroline questioned, irritation on her face.
Stefan ran his hand roughly across his forehead, "Honestly, I haven't got that far yet… as soon as I could, I got my things and came to find Elena."
"Is she in danger?" Bonnie asked, eyes widening.
"No, not that I know of." Stefan felt bad that he laughed a bit at Bonnie's immediate reaction. It was actually kind of sad, he thought, how Bonnie was still on edge. Fearful of what threat was coming up next. "I just," He looked at her face, unable to contain his bright smile. "I can't live without her."

CHAPTER 2
ELENA's POV

"Stefan, wait!" I'd love to say that I don't know what came over me, why I called for him to stop walking away, but I am fully aware of what I'm doing – of what I want. He stops, turning on his heel with this champion smile on his Greek God face; he knows what I want too.
"Elena!" Bonnie scorns. With just the saying of my name I know what she's thinking. Elena, you're engaged to his brother. You can't go off to his hotel room with him. This is not a good idea.
I ignore the Bonnie-voice playing in my head and without another word or even a 'see ya later' look their way, I jog off towards Stefan.
His eyes are asking me if I'm sure as I make my way to him and take his hand in mine, I nod. I am sure. In almost nineteen years of living I've been sure of very few things the way I am sure I want to be with this man. I don't want to let him out of my sight, and that ninety seconds or so when he was headed to his hotel and I was going to the room I am sharing with Bonnie and Caroline – when I wasn't touching him, that was enough. I am his, he is mine. I want to let him do all the things his gaze is telling me he wants to do to me. For the slightest of moments, I think he's going to tell me to go back to the girls, but he doesn't. He slides arm around my shoulder and we start off to his hotel.

The moment he closes the hotel room door there is a feeling. A thick, chest-pressure feeling that causes my body to feel somewhat tingly from toes to the tips of my fingers. My breathing has increased – shallower, but much quicker than normal. I find a seat on the single chair in the room, biting my lip and for some reason, finding it difficult to look at him. Stefan's not having that trouble at all - I can sense his eyes on me and as anxious as I am, I like it.
"Do you feel that?" He asks, his voice husky and soft. I look up at him. I do feel it, every time we've been in a room alone together since he was released from Klaus' compulsion; it's been there, taunting me.
"Yes."
"I thought I'd imagined it, when I'd think of you. Or thought maybe it had something to do with you being human and me a vampire… but it's still there," He was standing, leaning against the desk, facing me, his arms at his sides and fingers grasping the desktop. "it's like…" He fell silent, searching for words.

"Gravity." I complete his thoughts, my eyes finally gaining the courage to look up at him. He's beautiful – there's no other word to describe Stefan Salvatore. "Like a magnetic pull."
He nods with an easy smile.
"Do you still love me?" He asks flatly. I look into his eyes and I think I see fear, or maybe doubt, I can't tell, but whatever it is it breaks me.
I can't answer him. Not because I don't love him, because I love him so much that I know my words could never explain. With my brain unable to describe my emotions, I allow my heart to take over as I stand and close the distance between us, stopping just short of being against him. He's still leaning against the desk and we're eye to eye, chest to chest.
I look him directly in the eyes – his emerald eyes to my brown – then raise my hands, touching the sides of his face with just my fingertips. I trace each side of his jaw, down his neck. His breath catches and eyes close at my touch; I can't keep my lips from his.
When we kiss, I could die and know that I've experienced the greatest love. Everything is right – the pressure he applies, the way he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth a bit. We know each other well and quickly fall into a sensual slow rhythm. Before I know it, he's standing, pulling me against him, his hands pressing against the lowest low of my back. He takes a couple steps forward and I feel the bed against my legs, then against my back as he lays us down. The warm weight of his body on me makes my yearning for him increase and my kisses become more forceful, begging as my hands move under his shirt and I'm able to feel the roll of his back muscles. The way he's breathing, how his mouth is sucking and nibbling at my neck and collar bone, it's saintly. "Please, Stefan…" it comes out as a moan in a voice I hardly recognize.
He lifts himself up so that he's kneeling between my legs, and pulls off his shirt, then leans over me – looking at me like I'm his life source, his reason for living. His weight on one arm, his free hand pushes up the blue cotton tank top I'm wearing, exposing my stomach. When his fingers graze down my torso, across my navel to the button of my low-waist jeans, my body reacts and my back arches as my hands dig into the comforter we are laying on. He smiles wickedly, enjoying watching the effect he has on me. Whatever sad emotion that was in his eyes before this began has been replaced with an alert and scorching yearning that gives me chills of pleasure. "You're so beautiful." He sighs, stopping for a moment, looking me over. Suddenly, I'm possessed by my desire for him, unfastening my jeans and pulling my legs out of them quickly. Before they hit the floor he's on top of me again, our mouths devouring each other's kisses, our hands exploring bodies that we know so well.
"Stefan I love you, please, God, Stefan." I whimper as his hand pulls my right leg up and around his waist and he presses himself against me – I'm dying and alive and on fire – too hot and too cold all the same time. Every muscle in body tightening as he moves against me, his mouth on my chest, his rough hands on my skin, it's overwhelming me in a phenomenal mosaic of friction and heat and lust.
He kisses my mouth again, I'm unable to control the way my body is bowing beneath him as his hand moves up my side, across my breast and finds my face again. He rests his weight on his elbows, lifting away enough to look into my eyes. "I need you." His voice is quiet and carnal.
Resting his forehead on mine, he gives me a quick breathless kiss on my lips. "Please be sure, Elena... you have no idea how badly I want this."
"Yes" I'm breathless and lost in his unique Stefan scent of soap, skin, and hair product.
I barely release the word from my lips before he's at it again, now with more aggression. His hands are rough against me, his teeth tug at my bottom lip. He moves a bit and I hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking and I'm awash in the thrill of ecstasy. Once he's kicked off his pants, he kneels between my legs again, slipping his fingers under the waste of my black panties and kissing at my hip bone. He watches my face when he begins to slowly pull them down, teasing.
He smiles down at me, his lips parted slightly and a mischievous look in his eyes as he looks me over. "Wow, Elena…" he complements with a smile and I laugh, covering my mouth with my left hand.
In less than a second, something has changed. I watch as his eyes twitch a bit, turning dark, his shoulders and neck are tense, head cocked a little to the side. I'm lying in front of him, panties barely covering myself, top pushed up nearly over my bra – lightning flowing through my veins for him - and he's losing interest?
"What?" I ask, suddenly embarrassed about my state of undress.
Stefan gets off the bed, turns away from me – his back heaving as he breathes and muscles flexed. I wonder if he's vamping out - If he's going to turn back to me with fangs bared and blood red eyes. "Get dressed." He commands, I listen, something's not right.

"I don't understand…" I sigh, slipping my into my heals and straightening my pants legs over my feet.
He swallows hard, he hasn't looked at me since the sudden change in his demeanor – he's closing himself off. He's put his shorts back on, but is sitting shirtless as the end of the bed, elbows on his knees and hands fisted together under his chin. "I'm sorry, Elena. I lost control of myself. It won't happen again."
I'm getting angry only because I'm feeling rejected. "Was I not just laying there begging you to make love to me, Stefan?"
"Please don't be upset." He turns to me, reaching his hand out.
I stare at it for a moment but I'm unable to resist – I place mine in his. "I just don't get it."
He doesn't offer to explain, but something in his eyes is telling me I shouldn't pry – not tonight. After a long moment of silence, he pulls my hand to his mouth and kisses my fingers, then my wrist. "Just stay with me tonight."
I sigh, I thought that was what we were doing!
"I just want to hold you." He adds, somehow knowing my thoughts.
I am exhausted. He looks tired, too. And to be honest, I don't want to leave him. There is no place I'd rather be. I nod and he gives me a sweet smile, a smile of relief.
As I climb on the bed, he moves up next to me and pulls my back against his front, kisses my hair and in what seems like less than a minute, I am completely asleep in the arms of the man I was made to love.

CHAPTER 3

I wake up in a panic, anxiety coursing through me – had last night been a dream? I turn to my back and reach across the queen mattress; he's not there. I can feel my tears coming, I'm alone. It wasn't real. A reflection of the sun on a brass ring of the brown leather duffel sitting on the desk catches my eye. I touch my lips – they're swollen from his kisses. Coming to a bit more, I hear the shower water start. I let out the breath that I wasn't aware I was holding in a long slow exhale.

As I relax into the bed, a surge of joy enveloping me, I replay the intense foreplay from the night before. Closing my eyes, it's almost real – I want him all over again. What happened? Why did he stop? He was concerned that I wasn't sure… that's just like Stefan. At the sound of the shower door closing, I'm hit with a vision of naked Stefan in the shower and, without allowing myself to second guess it, I'm out of bed and undressing. I'll join him. I'll be the one to make the first move – leaving no doubt that I am sure.

The small bathroom is cloudy in a haze of steam from the hot shower and the glass walls of the stall are foggy, but I can see him – facing away from me. He's got his hands on each side of the shower head and the water is rushing down his body from the crown of his head. I don't know why I'm being quiet as I open the stall door and step in behind him, but I'm almost silent. I feel like a voyeur – looking at Stefan, inspecting the slight dips and rises of his herculean body. He has the shape of an athlete – firm and muscular in all the right places. The water forms a V-shaped waterfall from his head, between his shoulder blades and my hands move to touch him. He's deep in thought, still not aware that I'm behind him when I softly place my hands on his back and kiss his shoulder. He tenses and his back expands as he sucks in a deep breath, but he doesn't move. His skin is so warm from the water that I know my kiss must feel cool.

I move my hands around to his chest, one mirroring the other - my lips resting on his skin, eyes watching his reaction – moving them down his torso ever so slowly, giving him the chance to stop me. I feel the ripple of his exceptionally formed stomach, his navel, and then the thin vertical line of hair on his pelvis as he releases a low, guttural groan and his back relaxes with the breath. So quickly, before I can realize what's happening, he turns and pushes me against the tiled wall – my hands above me, captured beneath his – and his green eyes are sultry and burning for me. He's no longer a vampire, but my God he's graceful and strong, so strong. He holds me like that, pinning me with his hips and torso, staring into my eyes. His hair is a wet, sexy mess and the water beading up on his face, dripping from his lips, makes me feel dehydrated, thirsty for him. I arch a bit, my mouth begging for his kiss, but he backs up just enough that our lips do not meet. I see the pleasure in his eyes as he watches me wanting him, nearly panting. He moves my hands together; grasping them both with one fist– then takes my face in his free hand. I don't move as his thumb grazes my still sensitive lips.

"Elena." He says my name like a plea, then kisses me softly on the corner of my mouth. "You take my breath away," I liquefy. Moving slowly, he kisses the other side with the same amount of tenderness, "You own me, Elena." I'm weightless, my body a mass of nerves that can only hear him, can only feel Stefan. His hand slips into my hair as he kisses my lips, his tongue flicking against mine. It's a passionate, yet heartbreaking kiss – slow and deliberate, meaningful. He looks at me, like he's never seen me before or like he'll never see me again, I can't tell which, but there is a sadness in his eyes. I move to kiss him again but he's still holding me in place, "Elena,…" he sighs my name, "You'll be the death of me." I want to kiss away whatever doubt he has, but he releases me and steps out of the shower.

I stand there for a moment, a long moment. My body is on fire for him but my desire is slowly morphing into anger. By the time I dry off, I'm shaking with fury. I walk out of the bathroom, still pulling my tank top over my wet body and I lose it.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I yell, glaring at him as he's casually buttoning up his light grey shirt, his face blank until he hears me. "What is it, Stefan! Do you want me to reassure you? Is that it?" I toss the towel I'm still holding onto the floor. "Fine. Stefan it's you. You are all I want. Please Stefan, I want you to love to me! Please! I lov-"

"ELENA I KNOW!" His voice is loud and brimming with anger. "I KNOW OKAY!"

"What is it that you know, Stefan?" I ask sarcastically putting my hands on hips. My tone much quieter as the expression on his face is somewhat sobering, threatening.

He takes a deep breath, then pulls a pair of shorts from his bag. "I saw it last night, but honestly I didn't think anything of it," The anger in his voice is still evident, but he's his usual self again. "I didn't place any special meaning on it. Not until I saw that you'd taken it off."

"What?"

He digs in the pocket of the shorts and then holds his open hand out to me, the platinum engagement ring is laying in his palm.

"I couldn't sleep. I haven't been able to think of anything else since I saw your bare finger last night…" He lowers his hand, inspecting the ring as he holds it gently between his fingers. I remember how he suddenly stopped, the feeling in the room changing when I covered my laugh with my left hand. I'm think I can feel my nerves dying as numbness creeps across me. "I remembered hearing something fall, on the boardwalk – when I put two and two together I got dressed and went looking for it. I had to know if it was a ring."

"Stefan." I sigh. This is just a speed bump. I don't want to marry him. I want you. My mind is speaking but my mouth isn't moving.

"Just tell me it's not Damon, Elena." He looks up at me, his eyes pleading with me, his voice breaking. "It can be anyone else and I can let it go, I can forget anything and everything that's happened. Just say it's not Damon. Tell me you haven't promised yourself to him, to my brother."

My silence and tear filled eyes are all the answer that he needs.

He implodes, I can see it. I see him breakdown inside. I see the pain wash across his beautiful Roman face. I watch as his mouth shakes just before his teeth take hold of his bottom lip, trying to gain control. He's staring down at the ring like it's sucking the oxygen from his lungs.

"Stefan, you can't understand what losing you did to me. I…" I can't think of how to explain to him that I agreed to marry Damon because he was the closest I'd ever get to having him back again. "I haven't been myself. I love you. I just wanted to be as close to you as I could. I didn't eat, I couldn't sleep. I didn't want to live without you. Please. I kept seeing you, seeing you fall to your knees. Don't be angry with me. Not now, we finally have a real chance, Stefan please!" I'm truly begging – words spilling from my mouth before I can arrange my thoughts.

I'm shaking and crying and I'm in his arms, he's holding me. Calming me. I hear him trying to steady his breath.

"I'm not angry with you." His voice is flat, emotionless, but he gives me soft kiss on my forehead as he gathers my hair into a low ponytail in his hands.

"I'll end it. I'll tell Damon the truth – that it was a mistake and I'll give him the ring back. He'll understand." Even in my state of distress I know that is a lie – Damon will not understand, he will not go down without a fight.

Stefan releases me gently, like it hurts to pull away - taking my hand and placing the platinum ring in my palm. "No."

I look at him like he's gone crazy. "No?"

He runs both of his hands through his hair, drops back into the bed.

"What do you mean?" I honestly have no idea what he means by 'no'

Stefan sits up, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "I can't do that to him." I want to scream what about me? What about what we want? But I don't, I'm frozen. Stefan, human, seventeen year old Stefan Salvatore is telling me we can't be together. After everything – Damon, the council, Katherine, Elijah, Klaus, Rebekah, the Temple in Naples… it's this ring keeping us from being together. "If things end between you guys, organically…" the words come out of his mouth like they leave a bad taste. "then I swear to you, Elena, I'll be there. But I can't… after living with no end in sight, being human again; knowing there is an end, I have to make things right with my brother before it's too late."

I wonder for a moment if this poetic justice is nature's punishment.

He's choosing Damon over me…

They sat in the silence of his decision for half an hour – the stormy grey clouds moving in from the Atlantic a background through the large windows of Stefan's hotel room. Elena sat in the arm chair, curled into the corner; Stefan on the bed – the magnetic pull still there, their love still fighting for the light of day. He wasn't mad at Elena, but he couldn't deny that he was angry.

For four weeks, while recovering from the transition and working to get the necessary documents together to start his life as a human, Stefan allowed his imagination to run wild. Finally human, able to give Elena the kind of life he'd not been able to provide as a vampire, he pictured their life together. There was nothing left to keep them apart. While sitting alone in the coffee shop where he'd taken Elena for lunch in Naples, he thought of what it would be like to propose to her, how her eyes would shine with tears of joy, the way her voice would be the most beautiful music when she said yes. Another time, he'd seen a young father playing in the Plaza with his two sons and he was hit with the overwhelming realization that he could have children. He and Elena would be able to raise a family.

"I thought about what our kids would look like." Stefan spoke in a scratchy whisper, but the sound gave Elena a startle after the long silence. His eyes on the tan berber carpet as they had been for a long while. "We'd have two, maybe three or four… I wanted to take them camping. I even sort of planned on how I would teach them to swim out at the falls by Wickery Bridge. Right there before where the river bends, where it's not too deep, you know." He swallowed hard. "I had this dream, twice actually… I'm sitting in a chair. The room's dimly lit and there are butterflies and fairies and just all kinds of girly things on the walls and on the shelves." He gives a sad laugh. "I'm reading a book to this little girl. This sweet, tiny, little thing… laying in bed, looking up at me with deep brown eyes" His gaze moves to Elena, his eyes dull from the war of emotions he's fighting. "She looked so much like you."

Elena didn't speak, her heart caught in her throat.

"I wanted to marry you. To watch you walking to me at the altar." Stefan kept talking despite his trying to stop, the words purging themselves from his mind. "I had a lot of time to think about this." He tried to laugh again, try to make it feel less like a eulogy to their relationship. "Before, I never allowed myself to think of what it would be like to grow old with you, it just wasn't possible and it was painful to think of. I wish I wouldn't have started down this road… I feel like I'm being gutted."

"Stefan…" Elena sighed his name, an apology.

"God, I'm so… I'm so stupid to think you were just sitting around waiting."

"What can I do, just tell me and I'll do it."

"How did this happen? When?"

Elena swallowed hard, remembering when Damon asked her to marry him, to let him turn her. How the first thought that crossed her mind was that Stefan would hate her for this if he knew. At the time, she dismissed it of course, Stefan was dead. But now, here she was having to try and explain. "It was a few days ago."

Stefan's eye grew large – he wasn't sure what he'd expected to hear but knowing that it was a fresh engagement, a choice made not too long ago, it was like another razor blade across his wounded pride.

Elena recognized how it hurt him, but she continued, he deserved to know to whole story. "I was asleep. I was dreaming of you, again. I saw you standing at the foot of your bed, looking at me wrapped up in your sheets…" her voice airy and delicate as if she were seeing her dream all over again. "You were smiling at me… like you do – playful and suggestive. I could feel it, really feel it when you moved your finger tips up my calf and climbed in bed with me. I swear Stefan, it was so real, I could feel you kissing me."

Stefan listened intently, wishing to God that he could kiss her now, but Damon's ring sitting on the bedside table was the equivalent of barbed wire, keeping him from getting to her.

"I guess I started to wake up, I don't know but the way you were kissing me changed, it didn't feel like you anymore. It was too… forceful, I guess. Half asleep I say, outloud – I say your name and the kissing stops and I'm fully awake and it's Damon. It was him all along I guess…"

"What? Did he try to –" Stefan asked, shocked and beginning to boil with rage.

"NO! No." Elena interrupted, "No, when he touched my leg and I reacted, dreaming that it was you, he thought I was reacting to him."

"How did that lead to that?' Stefan's words carried a hatred, dark and void, gesturing to the ring.

"After quite a bit of apologizing and explaining on my part, he told me that he knew I'd never stop loving you, but that he wanted me, and he was there and he wouldn't leave me. That was enough – without you I know I can't expect to have anything near what we have, Stefan. He asked me to marry him. And I guess in some way of trying to be near to you and make him happy I said yes…"

Stefan groaned, rubbing his face harshly with his hands. "So what, I'm like three or four day's late?"

"Two." Elena's voice was flat, wishing she could rewind time and take away the entire conversation she'd had with Damon in his apartment. "It was the night before we came out here."

"Why isn't he here? Shouldn't you be celebrating your pending nuptials?" He was growing tired of hearing about his soulmate and his brother – learning about their relationship was like taking a beating.

"He's packing up your things. Back in Mystic Falls. He's been staying in an apartment close to my dorm…"

Stefan was frozen, hurt, angry, depressed, alive and yet dying inside, terrified, jealous, exhausted…

"Okay."

"Okay?" Elena questioned, watching as Stefan stood – that look on his face, it was back to business.

He moved intently across the room, picking up his various items and shoving them into the leather duffel bag on the desk. Elena watched, not sure what he was going to do, but it was better than watching him sit on the bed with his broken eyes looking back at her. Once he'd gathered everything, he zipped the bag and slipped on his boots.

"Let's go." Stefan commanded, the duffel bag in one hand, the other reached out to Elena. "I need to get you back to Caroline and Bonnie."

"And you…"

He looked lost, the slightest break in his neutral demeanor, as he realized that he had no plans without Elena. "I don't know."

"I'm not going back." Elena stood – she could tell by looking at him that he needed her. Stefan opened the hotel door and extended his arm, ignoring her. "No." She huffed, crossing her arms.

They stood like that for a moment, at a stand still, an impasse. Their conversation in gridlock.

"O.M.G." Caroline's voice rang through the heavy air like a church bell. "We've been looking for you guys! Damon is freaking out!"

Stefan rolled his eyes as Caroline and Bonnie walked into the hotel room, Elena's glare still intent and burning into him. "You told Damon?"

"No!" She smiled, hugging him, feeling his tension immediately but ignoring it. "We haven't talked to him, but he's been blowing up your phone, E."

Bonnie took the cell phone from her small, yellow purse and handed it to Elena. It took a few seconds, but Elena finally broke her arresting gaze and took the phone. "He's called mine and Caroline's too."

"Why doesn't he just text?" Caroline groaned. She looked up at Stefan, their eyes catching for a moment – just long enough for her to see that something had gone terribly wrong since their departure the night before. It didn't take much thought to figure it out – he was bound to find out about the engagement sooner or later.

"He's…" Elena searched for the word.

"Ancient." Stefan snapped.

"Do you want us to leave while you call him?" Bonnie asked, uncomfortable for some reason, something wasn't right between them. It was like they'd just had a terrible argument.

"No, stay." Elena gave a weak smile, lifting the dialing phone to her ear.

Stefan suddenly felt a pang of jealousy, wishing he could still hear like he could when he was a vampire. When Damon answered, loudly, he had no trouble hearing him through the ear piece of Elena's phone.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?"

"I've been here, why? What's wrong?" Elena tried not to pay attention to the way Stefan was steaming up, bowing in anger at the tone and volume of Damon's voice.

"Oh well, I can't get into my own damn house, for one! Not to mention my fiancée is off in Miami and I haven't been able to get ahold of her for an entire day! Other than that I guess I'm fine."

"I have an extra key in my bedroom at home…" Elena explained. "Or just break the lock."

"Great idea, why didn't I try that?" He asked sarcastically. That was the thing about Damon, he was easy to read. When he was mad he was mad, when he was happy he was happy, very simple and straight-forward about how he was feeling whether you liked it or not. "I can't walk through the door, Elena."

At his words, coming through the phone a bit distorted because of how loudly he was speaking, Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline turned to look at Stefan – everyone coming to the same realization at once. "I don't know what the hell happened, but it's like someone lives here and I have to be invited in. You're the last one who actually owned the place so I'm going to need you to come back to Mystic Falls and let me in my own house."

STEFAN's POV

"I've been alive for months, there's no way…"

"When was the last time he went to the house?" Bonnie questions Elena, both of them sitting on the side of the bed; Caroline still standing near me – I can smell her perfume or lotion, it's inviting. I step away a bit, still not used to the way my hormones have been surging since I woke as a human. It can't help that I'm aching for Elena after last night, then this morning in the shower. She notices me move, looks at me with a smile and I wonder if she knows that I'm somewhat attracted to her.

Elena looks at me, then to Caroline, and I feel myself redden – silently reprimanding my internal teenager. "Not since Thanksgiving. We flew into Charlottesville from Italy and didn't go home for Christmas."

"Then it is possible." Bonnie follows Elena's gaze and I'm getting hot under my clothes.

"So I'm going to have to go back and invite him in? This isn't going to work." I move to the desk pretending to be looking for something in my duffel bag. "If any of the Original's see me, we'll all be in danger all over again. Lindsey and Gia, too." When I turn back to them, the mention of the possible threat has taken the attention off of me.

"Why don't you see if they can do the spell on Damon?" Caroline offers. "You wouldn't have to go back to Mystic Falls, no one would know anything was different, and Damon wouldn't have to change you, Elena."

I see Elena's eyes widen at Caroline.

Surely I didn't hear that right. "What did you say?" I ask Caroline.

"Stefan." Elena speaks to me like I'm a wild animal, rabid and on edge. It fits; I feel this dark, immoral malevolence seeping through me – thick and burning hot like tar. "He asked me to change. He didn't force me into it. I agreed… just like I explained earlier." This feeling, this is why I was a monster. Oh God it's all over me, it's sweet and substantial. Stronger than I remember it being when I was human – close to the strength it had over me as a vampire. I want to rip the sheetrock from the walls, set fire to this place. I feel like I'm losing my breath. I want to slaughter him.

"Stefan…" Caroline reaches to me. I think she can see it taking me over. Bonnie and Elena can't understand what this feels like, but Caroline knows that urge to annihilate, to destroy – even if she only knows a substantially lesser version.

"You're going to turn for him, Elena?" I don't recognize my own voice. It's a growl, a rumble from my throat forming into words. Caroline takes hold of my arm and I jerk away – I know I must look like a fool to her and Bonnie. Coming all of this way, confessing my love for Elena, tracking her to Miami thinking she would be thrilled to see me – to be with me.

"I only did becau-" She starts to explain, but what does it matter? She's agreed to marry my brother, she's giving up the life that I sacrificed myself for in order to be with him for eternity.

"I don't want to hear this." I interrupt

"Stefan." She reaches for me and I move away.

"Don't touch me, Elena." I hiss at her. I don't want to be angry with her, but in four months time she's destroyed us. And my brother, he's double crossed me from the day he came to Mystic Falls. Through my red hot anger I see him staking Lexi, imagine how he wormed his way between Elena and I. I remember agreeing to go with Klaus to save Damon, all the while he was forming his next move, taking every chance he could to win Elena. Now here she is, his ring on her finger – promised to Damon in marriage and for eternity as a vampire, and I'm alone. "I should have let him die."

"We should go." Bonnie moves towards the door, expecting Caroline to come behind her, but I stop them.

"No, you two stay." I grab my bag, already packed and I make a quick exit before I explode.

CHAPTER 4

ELENA's POV

"You aren't leaving me." I say to him. He's waiting for the valet to bring his car, bowed up and angry with me. Caroline and Bonnie are going to bring my things home with them on our planned flight on Saturday – that gives me a little over forty-eight hours. "Not again."

He doesn't respond. He's looking away from me, appearing calm and collected, but the way his jaw is clenched and his knuckles are white grasping the handles of his duffel bag, I know better. I step up next to him and cross my arms. We may be in a bad situation, but by God, he's not doing this again. Leaving with Klaus, then taking off to Italy… I'm not letting him make those decisions any longer. I hear him huff at my stubbornness and I want to smile – he's never been one to force me to do anything – and I love that. I look at him, so angry and beautiful. This is what my human Stefan looks like when he's pissed off, I think as a car pulls up and a valet hops out. I dismiss it, the car is far too expensive for Stefan.

"Nice car, Mr. Salvatore!" The Cuban valet hands the keys to Stefan. I must look shocked because I can see Stefan's amused expression as he opens the passenger door for me – still angry, but allowing me do as I wish. He doesn't really look at me, just holds the door.

"How much did renting this cost?" I ask, taking in the low, white two door coup with big silver wheels and small profile tires. I don't know much about cars, but it's obvious that it is new, fast, and expensive.

The interior is all kohl grey and as I slip into the bucket seat, it wraps me up like soft leather cocoon. After putting his bag in the trunk, Stefan gets in the drivers seat, closing the door behind him.

I feel sexy just sitting in it. My feelings multiply as his deft fingers grasp the stick shift and we peel off, leaving in a squeal of rubber and concrete.

Hour number one goes by and we're both silent. I'm searching for something to explain, a way to get him to understand. He's holding the steering wheel in his right hand, his head resting against his left, propped up on the door. The only noise coming from the cars exhaust as he guns through the heavy interstate traffic.

Hour two is just as wordless, but I've turned on the radio with the volume down low. He's not moved, but I'm getting more fidgety. I think this is the longest time we've spent with each other without speaking.

I'm daydreaming, about nothing really, my mind blank from exhaustion, when I see the Jacksonville, FL sign. – 34 miles away. I look down at the radio clock, amazed that we've been riding for nearly three hours. I've got to say something – we can't go on like this forever, can we?

"I need to pee." It's all I can think of.

He cuts his eyes to me, my voice is lightning cutting through the silence. Without really acknowledging that he's heard me, he switches hands, using the right one to change gears and he moves the car swiftly to the right lane, taking the first exit. He comes to a stop in front of an Exxon then puts the car in park. No words, doesn't look at me. "Do you want a drink? Something to eat?"

The narrowing of his eyes tells me I've got him.

"I'll come in with you." He finally speaks!

I see him standing by the door, waiting for me, with a bag full of his purchases. I can see couple bags of chips, a few granola bars, two bottles of blue sports drink, all in the bag, and a large bottle of water in his free hand. He sees me, opening the swinging door, but doesn't look at me, really.

Another hour later and we're moving in on Savannah, GA. Stefan has polished off a granola bar, a bag of chips, and is working on his second bottle of Gatorade. He got the water for me, and my favorite almond granola bar, but I haven't touched it. It's somewhat strange to be with a human Stefan, watching him consume food. As always, he's graceful and uses his manners, but there's no doubt that he's a teenager. He catches me off guard when he sets the nearly empty bottle in the cup holder and reaches over to me, putting his hand between my thighs. The gentle stroke of his callused thumb sending tremors through me.

"Four hours is as long as I can go without touching you." His voice is flat, but I can see a playful smile curving at the corners of his mouth. His hand is only on me for a half a minute before he's changing gears, moving to the right lane.

"What are you doing?"

He looks over at me, oh those green eyes, "Now I have to pee."

He hops out of the low car with ease, that athletic body not challenged by much, and I watch him jog into the rest area. I'm hopeful, I can feel my heart reattaching its broken pieces. The day is coming to an end with the sun low in the sky creating long, deformed shadows of the 18 wheelers and the scattered trees around the brick building. Besides the three tractor-trailers, we're alone in the parking lot. My legs are aching as I step out of the car, taking in a deep breath of the fresh, piney air. It's much cooler and my spaghetti strap top and strappy heels aren't doing much to block the wind, but I've been sitting for hours and ignore the chill, crossing my arms to hold in my warmth, as I step onto the grass towards a picnic table.

The sound of a big truck starting its engine startles me and I jump a bit, looking as it rumbles to life a few hundred feet away from me, when I turn back to my path, Stefan is beside me. I gasp, startled again. "You're still very stealthy."

His face is unreadable, he's glaring at me. Despite the obvious anger that has returned to his blazing green eyes, his hands cup my face affectionately. I'm sure he's going to kiss me and my knees feel weaker with just the thought. "Marry him if you have to, but please. Don't. Turn." His voice is like a sonnet – carrying more meaning than the words themselves can portray.

"I…" I can't speak for a moment, I've never been compelled but I swear it must feel just like this – like you'd walk through fire for this person, all they he has to do is ask. My hands find his forearms, steadying myself under his dizzying gaze.

"I don't know what to do, Elena. I want this, I want us. But I've got what fifty years to live? That goes by so quickly… I've been alive for more than three times that already and it was like the speed of light. I can't destroy things with Damon, my brother… not when I'm not enough for you."

"You are, I love you."

"You've barely had any time at all to work out whatever it is you feel for Damon. And what time you did have things have progressed pretty quickly so I can't assume things are just going to end. Without me around… what would have happened? If I wouldn't have shown up last night, what would your future look like?"

I think about it for a moment. Picturing Damon feeding me his blood then breaking my neck. Watching myself drop to the floor. Waking with the hunger of a vampire. My eyes a burning crimson, my fangs barred. Would I have gone through with it? Will I? My mind is slowing, coming to a stop – I would have loved Damon. Vampire or not, I would have loved Damon if Stefan had not come to me in Miami.

I shake my head, I understand. Stefan, good & moral, Stefan. "Okay." I sigh, agreeing with his decision. I'll go back to Damon and I'll try to forget my epic love story with Stefan, I'll try to be what Damon needs, but "I won't change for him."

Stefan's shoulders finally relax, his exhale releasing the tension he'd been holding tightly wound in his muscles. He pulls me into a hug and I wrap my arms around him. Since the back to school party at Fell's Park, when we talked on the wooden bridge, he's been my very best friend – even after all of this time, distance, all those elements of the world – supernatural and not – that has not faltered in the slightest.
This is yet another goodbye in our relationship of right person, wrong time.

DAMON's POV

She's wearing those boots, the ones that zip up to her knees, they are shiny and black and hug the slender curve of her calf. My eyes can't help but follow the curve up her thighs. She may be a bitch, but that doesn't take away from her magnetism. I have no idea what she's doing here, but she's walking towards me with that sway in her hips that mesmerized me 150 years ago.

"Mmm, Katherine Pierce…" I nod to her. I'm still sitting on the entry way steps outside of the Salvatore Boarding house, trying to figure out why I can't get in. Wondering if Elena managed to get her flight switched.

"My second favorite, Salvatore" She quips and it stings a bit. "Where is that handsome brother of yours?" She stops in front of me, hands on her hips, curls piled into a loose, sexy updo.

"Who's that? Stefan… who knows." I don't want to talk about this. I haven't talked about him since I came back from Italy, and even then I just gave Elena a quick run down of where I took his body. Every time she's mentioned him, and it's been a lot, I find a reason to leave the room or change the subject entirely – even in death he's a terrible reminder of just how shitty I am.

"Damon, I'm serious. I need to talk to him." She furrows her brow at me, her cool appearance slipping.

I just smile and raise my eyebrows in a 'I don't give a shit' way.

I see her swallow and she purses her lips tightly. "Can you… when is the last time you saw him?" I think I hear her voice shake. She's either in deep shit or she knows he's dead. Either way, he's not going to be able to help her.

I look her over once more, deciding to clue her in – no need to sweeten it though, it was the most horrible moment of my never ending life and, you know what they say, misery loves company. "He's dead." She doesn't react. "Some disgusting baby witches took his life in exchange for the wonderful bastard we like to call Niklaus Mikaelson."

"Don't bullshit with me, Damon." I just look away from Katherine's stern face. Telling her about Stefan has just reopened that wound and I miss my brother today, just like I did yesterday, and all the days before then.

Katherine turns away from me, walks back to her car. I expect her to get in and drive off, but she doesn't. She just stands there, looking at her Porche.

There is a storm blowing in from the west and the trees are moving in the wind, creating a swooshing sound that nearly covers the restrained sobbing. I suddenly feel like an ass. It's quite difficult to make Katherine cry, but I've succeeded.

"You want to go get a drink?" I call to her.

Back on the road, Stefan and Elena were quiet again – Stefan's Itunes playing through the Bluetooth connection, the lyrics of the songs speaking words that they were unable to say. They'd just drove through Savannah, giving them a little more than eight hours before they were back in Mystic Falls, Elena knew.

"So what's the plan?" She questioned, her head resting on the cool window pane of the passenger side door, eyes watching as the world blurred by.

Stefan sighed, "I don't know."

"You can't think that you're just going to invite him in the house and then he's going to be like, okay cool, see ya later little brother who I thought was dead." Her voice has a ring of annoyance. Though Elena sees Stefan's point, agreeing to let things play out with Damon as they would have had Stefan not come back to her, that didn't mean she was going to do it cheerily.

"I'll explain what happened, I'll grab some things and I'll be on my way." He said in a matter of fact tone of voice that was lacking the confidence it needed to be believable. Deep down, he wondered if he'd be able to leave Elena with Damon.

She gave a sarcastic laugh, "It's not going to be that easy. He won't let you go."

"He's never cared before."

Elena turned to look at in with a shocked expression on his face. "Really? You honestly believe that he just happened to show up in the same place as you over the years? He loves you, Stefan." Elena took Stefan's hand from the stick shift. "If you could have seen him, that night… we had to stay over in Naples, at your condo, waiting for a flight back to the states. He destroyed the place. He was uncontrollable."

Stefan rolled his eyes, "Damon's always uncontrollable."

She started to talk again, but Stefan turned up the music in a way of telling her he didn't want to hear any more. It wasn't purposeful, but the car was filled with a love song, one of hurt and pain. The raspy voice, familiar to Elena's ears. Stefan overwhelmed with regret of his timing.

I've been twisting and turning in a space that's too small
I've been drawing the line and watching it fall
You've been closing me in , closing the space in my heart
Watching us fading and watching it all fall apart

"Who is this singing?" Elena asked

Well I can't explain why it's not enough
Cause I gave it all to you
And if you leave me now
Oh just leave me now
It's the better thing to do
It's time to surrender
It's been too long pretending
There's no use in trying
When the pieces don't fit anymore

"James Morrison… this is bad timing." Stefan reached to turn the volume down, but Elena kept his hand, wanting to hear the words, let them flow through her, cut her into shreds.

You pulled me under so I had to give in
Such a beautiful mess that's breaking my skin
Well I'll hide all the bruises; I'll hide all the damage that's done
But I show how I'm feeling until all the feeling has gone

Stefan sped up, hitting 90mph in seconds, turning down the music as soon as the song was over.

"What are you doing?" She asked, a bit frightened by the speed, a bit turned on by the way he handled the sports car with ease.

"I'm getting you back to Damon before I change my mind."

Chapter 5

STEFAN's POV

Damon's Camero is in the driveway, but I don't see him anywhere. It's a black night, with the rain and the clouds, but I'm confident in my abilities to spot him for some reason. Probably just a memory from when I was a vampire, a predator, but I trust my instincts anyway and park the Lexus directly in front of the door. It should probably go in the garage, but I don't want Elena to have to walk in the rain. She's asleep in the passenger seat, covered up in my jacket. I know she wouldn't agree if she heard my thoughts, but I don't think she's ever looked more beautiful. Her face is relaxed, her lips slightly parted, maybe a little chapped as they are more ruby colored that usual. I see a flash of the little girl I saw in my dreams, and quickly step out into the falling rain to wash the vision away. It's been close to a year since I've been here, but as always, it gives me that full feeling of home, and I feel myself relax a little.

Quickly, I open the passenger side door and slip my arms under Elena's willowy body – it's just a natural movement for her as she wraps her arms around me and nuzzles her face against my neck. She doesn't feel any heavier to me as a human than she did when I was a vampire – with vampire strength, and that strikes me as odd, but I ignore the thought and head into the house. I have no trouble walking through the door. All the lights are off and it's obvious that it's been months since anyone has been here. It's both saddening and good – this is my home, no one else needs to be here.

"I'm hungry…" Elena sighs, still mostly asleep.

It was nine when we stopped for subs in South Carolina – that was six and a half hours ago – I'm hungry too.

"I'll put you to bed and get us something." I start towards the stairs, but she squirms out of my arms.

She yawns, scrunching up her nose in this cute, delightful way – I love her. "No that's okay. I need a shower."

"Okay," I smile at her as I use my fingers to brush down her messy hair – I love her. "Shower. I'll check the kitchen."

It takes me a few minutes to realize I can hear her upstairs, going through drawers, looking for a change of clothes. I stop making the peanut butter crackers – it's all I can find in the kitchen of two vampire bachelors – listening, wondering how I can hear her. It's been a very long time since I was human, but I'm almost sure that my hearing wasn't this good. It starts to become a game of sorts, figuring out what she's doing.

Her bare feet cross the floor, she's in my room… walks into my bathroom. I hear her pick up something, the swipe of plastic against the countertop, then hear the water from the sink. She turns it off and I hear her brush her teeth as she walks to the shower and starts the water. After a moment of just the bristles against her teeth and the falling water, I hear the toothbrush hit the counter top again and then the softest noise of something falling to the floor – her top. I close my eyes, wishing I didn't have such a vivid memory of her beautiful body. I hear her unbutton her jeans, unzip, slide them down. My palms tingle at the memory of holding her firm, curved hips. The way they would come up to meet my thrust.

I shake my head, I can't think like this. "Get ahold of yourself." I say out loud.

I hear her step into the shower and when the warm water hits her, she lets out this throaty, soft, sensual moan – my memory is a tidal wave, forcefully taking over. I'm all over her; one hand in her hair, the other grabbing at her thigh, I'm pulling her and pushing into her and I hear that moan. It's right in my ear and it's loud and quiet all at once. She's breathing hard and I'm lost inside of her.

A loud clap of thunder brings me back to the kitchen, but I can feel the memory trying to pull me back in, so I take my phone from my pocket, find my Bon Jovi playlist and turn up the dock as loud as it can go.

By the time I hear Elena's feet padding down the stairs, Wanted, Dead or Alive is mid-way through and I'm working on my third Guinness. I can feel the alcohol washing into my tired muscles and giving me that fun buzzed feeling of light legs and slack joints. Elena steps through the kitchen doorway and I worry that the alcohol was a bad idea as I'm having a more difficult time controlling where my eyes are moving. She may be svelte, but she's also fit. I watch the long, lean muscles flexing under her bronzed skin as she walks to the kitchen isle. She's wearing one of my white, v-neck undershirts –thin and not doing much to hide that she's without a bra. It's too big, but she's made it work by pulling it taut across her stomach and tying it into a knot over her left hip, exposing an inch or so of her stomach and all of her navy blue lace boy short panties. I finally coerce my eyes from her body, but her beautiful face does nothing to dull the fire burning inside of me – the way her wet hair is twisted and somehow tied into a messy bun is calling me to slip my fingers into it. I am a charmed serpent, her body the hypnotic rhythm keeping me spellbound – I love her.

"If this is going to work, you can't dress like that." The words slip from my mouth sounding flirtier than I'd planned; her responding smile gives me a chill. I turn the music down to a more soundtrack-like level.

She keeps her eyes on me for a moment – she's got to know what she's doing to me, her eyes are wicked and bright – then rests on her elbows at the isle.

"You're a chef, Stefan Salvatore" Her lips caress my name as she gives a tease about the six peanut butter topped crackers I've left for her. I'm standing at the sink, with a spectacular view of her profile, the last of my beer hitting my stomach – liquid courage.

My eyes are moving on their own, down the curve of her back, taking in her slender body. I feel her looking at me, and it's got to be the alcohol because I don't care than she knows that I'm replaying the times we've been together. I'm not embarrassed in the slightest.

"Have you ever been to Las Vegas?" She asks. I have, but the peculiarity of her question breaks my unruly train of thought. She's chewing one of the crackers, inspecting another, her finger scooping up a bit of peanut butter. She turns to me, sucks the tip of her finger. I can't give her question much thought, my brain diluted. I take a step and lean onto the isle caddy-corner to her, we're shoulder to shoulder. She continues, scrutinizing another cracker, "those commercials on the radio make me laugh."

I'm pretty buzzed and I'm pretty distracted and I think she's being cryptic, "I've been in a witch brewed lambs blood induced coma for quite a few months, you'll have to enlighten me."

"Oh you know," She gives a laugh, a nervous laugh, I think. Where is she going with this? I smile and shake my head. "What do they say…" She scrunches up her nose again, acting like she's trying to remember – I feel my body move a bit, my lips wanting to kiss the small winkles on the bridge of her nose, but I catch myself before its obvious. "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

Understand me when I say it takes a lot to shock me. I've seen and heard and done more in my life than I care to talk about, both good and bad, fun and frightening, but this proposal hanging in the air, floating into my ears; I'm caught off guard. I narrow my eyes at her, blink in confusion – I need more information. "I was thinking in the shower about how we have a few more hours before we start our 'just friends' thing. I'll do it, you're right about all of that, so I'm willing to give it a try." She turns, resting on her right elbow, her left hand comes to my face – her finger tips to my lips. Impulsively, I kiss them. "I died too, Stefan." My heart breaks for her, I can feel her sadness in her gentle touch. "When I lost you…" I take her hand in mine, rest my cheek against the back of her hand. She doesn't need to finish her sentence. I know. "We've got a few hours. No one has to know. It can just be for us."

A few hours.

I look at the brass framed kitchen wall clock – it's ten after four. I look back at Elena. I look at the last two crackers. My eyes are dancing, I don't know what to do. For a few more hours I'm still dead to the people of Mystic Falls. For a few hours she can be mine.

"I love you." I open my soul. I've been holding those words like they were my last breath of life. I can't stop myself from loving her, from pulling her against me, kissing her like I know I'll never be able to again. My hands try to imprint the feeling of her skin into my memory – it's warm and soft and smooth and firm. My mouth memorizing the taste of her lips, how her tongue feels against mine. She's holding onto me tightly, I wonder if she's doing her version of the same thing.

I take her by the waist, lifting her to the countertop and swiping away the beer bottles, jar of peanut butter, and the remaining crackers in a quick, seamless movement. The shattering glass of the bottles hitting the floor doesn't even register. It's just her breath, her quiet moans. I feel her legs wrap around my waist, and I lift her with my hands grabbing her rear– she gives a wonderful laugh – I love her.

We're up against the door frame – I can't make it many steps with her kissing me like this. I lift my tee shirt over her head and the collar tugs at her hair, pulling it loose. She's working at the buttons of my shirt, but I'm restless and can't wait so I just pull it apart and off of my arms – eager to feel her bare skin against mine. I hear the buttons fall to the wood floor, feel her smile against my mouth.

I want to take her to my bed, but the furthest we get is the couch. There's no music, no fire, just dark. My heart is racing, my blood singing through my veins – we're skin to skin. She's trying to be quiet, moaning into my kisses, biting at her lips when my mouth is not there to mute her and its setting me ablaze. The feeling of her beneath me, around me – it's awe-inspiring. I have to stop, delay this, make it last. I spend a long while lavishing over her body – from her neck, to her stomach, her hips and her thighs, I have to remember this. She has to remember me, us. I feel her fingers dig in to my hair, pulling – she's impatient. She wants me. I flick my tongue against her navel once more then move to face her, leaving a trail of kisses and licks up her stomach, her breasts, her neck. Her eyes are wide, lips red and swollen, she's a goddess – breathless and wanting me.

I pick up right where I'd left off, the feeling anew once again. She calls out to God, and I smile, pleased with myself. Her nails dig into my arm, so I take her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together. "Please…" She whimpers to me, moaning.

Moving faster now - an angry speed, a punishing rhythm - I feel her body heat, the polish of sweat beginning to cover her body, see in her eyes that she's lost in the sensation. She says my name – in breathless anticipation and pleading for me to continue, arching beneath me, grasping onto my back and my squeezing my hand as she finishes. I don't want it to end, but I'm overwhelmed. Her voice, that way, it's the end of me.

I lay there, on top of her, spent, exhausted, destroyed. When I feel her arms tighten around me, I know that she's come down off of her high and reality has settled again. I lean up, my weight on my elbows, and brush her hair from her face. I kiss her slowly, the lust built up from a year and a half of desiring her from afar purged from my body and nothing but love for this woman weaving through every fiber, through every nerve.

I want to tell her that we'll be okay, but I've never lied to her and I won't start now.

I start to lift myself, but Elena's hands grab my face and she's kissing me, in that way, all over again. I smile. "Never satisfied, are you?"

I tense for a moment, that could be taken in so many ways and I don't want to ruin this – these few hours. Her eyes brighten and she gives me a shy smile. "Never. Not when it comes to you."

I kiss her once, slowly. I want her again.

I want to hold her. I want to talk to her for hours. I want to listen to her voice for the rest of my days. I want to live the rest of my life with her, I want to die knowing I can't have her.

She searches my eyes, reading my thoughts, then silences my brain with her kiss, her hands on my neck, and we start again.

CHAPTER 6

ELENA's POV

The buzz of my phone on Stefan's bedside table wakes me. He's vined around me; his leg between mine, my calf on his ankle. One arm under my head, the other around my torso, his head next to my shoulder. I can feel his gentle exhales on the bare skin of my upper arm. I'm not sure what time it is, but we haven't been asleep long. It was very late when we got in, even later when we made it to his room, who knows what time it was when we actually went to sleep.

The buzz comes again. I don't move, fearful of waking my Greek God from his deep slumber, but I extend my arm slowly, taking hold of the phone and bringing it back to me. It's seven o' nine. I've missed two calls from Damon.

The clean, untouched joy that I woke with moments ago is now draining from my body – our few hours are over. I look down at Stefan's tanned face; beg my mind to remember the way he looks at this exact moment – in the dim daylight coming through the windows, worn out from our love making. I nuzzle my nose in his hair, inhaling the scent of his shampoo, of Stefan. My phone buzzes in my hand – Damon's calling.

"Hello?" My voice is shaky; hopefully he'll think it's from sleeping.

"Did you rent a Lexus LFA or is there a super rich douche bag in my house?"
Stefan's car out front.

I ignore the comment, "I didn't know you'd be here this early. I was asleep."

Stefan inhales deeply, his eyes opening and his hand sliding lazily across my stomach beneath his sheets.

"Yea, I've called you a couple of times." Damon's voice is sharp, I can tell he's frustrated with my being out of pocket for the last few days. "Come down and let me in."

"Okay. Bye."

Stefan nuzzles against me, kisses my neck. He's still asleep.

I shake him gently; run my fingers through his hair. He wakes with a smile. "Elena… I thought you were a dream."

I want to love him. Stay in his bed, never leave his arms. "Damon is waiting, downstairs."

His eyes harden, darken at the name drop. He's registering what I'm telling him – our few hours are over. He rolls to his back, leaving me cold for his body. He's purposely not touching me, steeling himself to the reality we are about to face. "You can change your mind." I offer.

He considers it, really lets it roll over in his mind a few times before rubbing his face harshly with his hands then rolls off the bed onto his feet. There is my answer.

He's dressed when I come out of the bathroom – back in my dirty clothes from Miami. He's wearing all black, a sign of how he's feeling, I imagine, wishing I had something gloomier to hide in, as well. We share a quick look at one another, then in synch head to the first floor to let Damon in.

We're nearly to the bottom of the staircase when he stops, turning to look at me one step above him – face to face. He's wearing a blank expression, but I know his eyes and I see the pain. Simultaneously, he wraps his arms around me and I cradle his face in my hands – our lips meet softly, slowly. It's sweet and tender; it only lasts for a few seconds. He pulls back, looking down, biting at his lips; he nods and lets his hands fall to his sides. I stare at him for a moment longer, kiss his forehead, and then step around him.

"Elena," He's standing at the bottom of the stairs, I'm fifteen feet away, my hand on the door knob. Stefan gives me a smile, then whispers "I'll wait."

I swallow, hoping that I can do this for Stefan's sake. I want him to be able to make things right with his brother, but everything inside of me is telling me to leave the door closed.

The sun hits me first, then I see Damon and Katherine leaning against Stefan's car. Just her presence makes me uneasy, a little scared even. "Hey, come in." I smile, waving them in. I'm pretty sure this isn't going to work, but Stefan wanted to try it before he was outed.

Damon seems confident that he'll be able to enter and is walking to me with a surly look on his face. I wonder if it's directed at me or because Katherine is hanging around – why is she here? His arms lift to hold me, but I'm behind the threshold and he's blocked. "What in the hell!"

Okay, here it goes. "Damon, look… something happ-"

"Hello, Brother." Stefan is behind me, I can feel his body against mine he's so close, his arms on each side of the door frame. I wonder for a moment if he's decided to drop the 'just friends' act before we ever started because the way he's standing against me is very possessive. I hear Katherine say Stefan's name in a way that makes me want to scream at her, but the look on Damon's face keeps my attention. His eyes are wide, round like that of a small boy. There is a smile playing at the corner of his lips at the same time they are shaking a bit. Stefan's hand slips around my waist and he moves me to the side – I can't tell if they are about to fight or hug, but it's tense. "You need me to invite you in."

"How? You were dead."

"It doesn't matter." Stefan is staring him down. My human Stefan is threatening his vampire brother. Damon doesn't register it; he doesn't see the anger in his face as he's overwhelmed with surprise. Stefan softens a bit, then steps across the threshold, taking Damon in his arms. I sigh with relief.

"I've missed you, brother." Damon's voice is close to silent as he hugs Stefan.

"Stefan?" Katherine, in her knee high boots and a black mini dress – an exact replica of me, an exact opposite – is standing next to Damon now and Stefan moves from Damon's brotherly embrace to Katherine's much less sibling like hold. Her arms around shoulders, her face in his neck. "I heard you were killed. I was so scared." I can't see his hands, but I imagine them low on her back and it's stomach churning.

"He's fine." I snap. Stefan's eyes cut to me as he releases her, but she keeps his hand.

"He's more than fine," She smiles; her hand traces his jaw, down his neck "you're human." We all look at her with wide eyes, "I can smell you're blood." She's saying it to explain but at the same time I can hear her words are laced with hunger, seduction.

Damon inhales, "I thought that was Elena."

Stefan rolls his eyes – I wonder why he's still holding her hand – "Elena smells nothing like I do…"

I don't know why but I take that as a wonderful compliment.

Damon grabs Stefan's shoulder, Katherine cups his face, again. "How?" Damon asks.

They stand on the front steps, Stefan giving them a rundown of what happened – just the facts, nothing like how he told Caroline, Bonnie, and me the story in Miami. They're listening intently. They aren't laughing at the bread story. At first I think it's because of how quickly he told it, with no flair, but looking at their faces, I see that they are envious.

"I got my ID and birth certificate from a document processor outside of Rome. Probably wanted by the CIA or something, but what choice did I have?" Stefan let go of Katherine's hand in the middle of his story, but he's leaning his shoulder against the brick with his arms loosely crossed and they're standing awfully close. I'm barefoot on the threshold, Damon still hasn't touched me. Stefan is ignoring me. I'm so lonely all of a sudden.

"Why don't you come inside?" I interject with a fake smile.

Damon asks another question, something about the car, as Stefan turns on his heel and walks in the door – Damon and Katherine are unable to enter.

"Oh sorry." He laughs, but I hear darkness in his tone. "I still need to invite you." His eyebrows jump, enjoying the upper hand. "Katherine…" Stefan gives a flat smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "There is no way in hell you're getting in this house."

I inflate. I feel so silly for being jealous of them.

"Ugh, Stefan." She whines, cocking her head to the side, hands on her hips.

"The moment someone pisses you off you'll turn into the bitch that we know you are, and we human's need a place of our own. It's for safeties sake, you understand." He's confident as he speaks, not scared of the vampires a few feet away from him. She's steaming mad, fooled by his earlier demeanor.

Stefan places one hand on each side of the door frame, then looks at Damon. "Damon, you are welcome to come in."

Damon gives Katherine a slick smile then walks into the house, slapping Stefan on the back as he passes, then comes to me. My eyes are still on Stefan as Damon pulls me into a hug – play the part, Elena – I tell myself, breaking my gaze at Stefan's back, now tense and not moving, he's holding his breath. Damon must feel awkward about the display of affection with Stefan here, because the hug is short and friendlier than we are accustomed to. I look back at Stefan and see he's breathing again.

"Why are you still here, Katherine?" He asks. I wonder if he's taking out his anger with Damon on her.

She steps right up to the threshold, inches in front of him and glares at me through narrowed eyes -I'm standing near Damon, aching to be close to Stefan. I wonder if she can feel that magnetic pull to Stefan that I do, even while in the embrace of his brother.

"Can we talk?" She asks, her voice is bitterly sweet. She's looking up at him, doe-eyed.

I think I see his body relax as he nods and steps outside with her.

I'm stuck in place for a moment, shocked that he is leaving with her. Finally I step to the door; Katherine has her arm looped with Stefan's as they walk to her car parked a few hundred feet away. Damon looks at me strangely, "You're going to let him go with her?"

"He's a big boy, Elena."

"He's a human… she can kill him." I strain my voice.

He laughs, "I highly doubt that she will."

My hands are on my hips and my neck is moving back and forth in cadence with my sentence. "Oh so now you trust Katherine with your human brother. HU-MAN."

"Katherine killing Stefan is about as likely as me killing you." He steps, puts his arms around me, low on my waist. "She's still in love with him – Surprise." He says sarcastically. "She came back to find out if he was really dead. When I told her it was true she broke down. I felt like an ass because I wasn't exactly kind about breaking the news so I took her to the Grille for a drink. We talked through some stuff – she's sorry for a lot of things." I can't believe what I'm hearing, Damon is forgiving Katherine. "She explained that she didn't mean to hurt me, but she loved Stefan all along. I was a way of keeping her from really believing it."

"If she loved him she wouldn't have turned him." I know this is a double entendre – he wants to turn me. His blue eyes spark as it registers, but he ignores it.

"She didn't, that was an accident… both of us were. How could she have known that our own father would shoot us? Anyway, she said that running from Klaus has kept her from being able to be with anyone…" Don't say it, don't say it, Damon. "Now that he's no longer a threat, thanks to my little brother, she wants to be with Stefan."

"He won't." I respond, too quickly.

His eyes flare with jealousy. "She's not the only one who wants to be with him, I see…" He snarls, stepping back from me.

It's not been a full half hour and I'm already failing at this game. "No, Damon…" I sigh, swearing to myself that I'll do better. I keep my eyes from looking out of the open door, looking out at Stefan and Katherine.

"No?" He questions again. I know I can play him like a puppet – it's something that I've known for a while and I've hated it, but now it's something I can use in my favor.

"We're fine. Don't let this get between us. Between you and your brother." I don't want to say his name. Being with Damon like this, it feels empty compared to how I feel with Stefan. He sighs, believing me. I lean into him, hugging his neck. I hear a car leaving and a few moments later Stefan walks back in the house, passing by me and Damon, ignoring our embrace as if it is nothing.

"What was that about?" Damon asks nonchalantly. I move to his side, my arm looping in his – mirroring the way Stefan was walking with Katherine.

Stefan trots up the stairs, "Don't play dumb, Damon."

Damon gives me a 'told you so' look then turns to go into the kitchen, his shoe makes a crunching sound. We both look down and there are Stefan's two shirts – the white one I put on after my shower and the grey button up he was wearing. They are surrounded by a handful of buttons sprayed across the floor. My breath catches as I remember us against the door frame. Damon looks at me – I can't take my eyes off of the clothing and buttons.

"What's this about?" Damon questions, an undertone to his voice that leaves me frigid. I shrug, unable to speak. He bends and picks up the blue shirt, inspecting the broken threads where the buttons should be. His eyes cut back to me, then into the kitchen. Something has caught his eye and he moves through the doorway that I'd been pressed up against just before dawn, devoured by his brothers' kisses.

Stefan's phone is still in the dock, Bon Jovi still playing through the speakers. The floor is a mess. There are saltine crackers crushed onto the tile from where Stefan stepped on them, carrying me. The peanut butter jar is cracked and laying in a pool of its contents. There is dark brown glass everywhere – the three beer bottles that Stefan drank from while I was in the shower. I remember the cool, sweet, taste of his kisses. "What the hell happened?"

I can't breathe; he's going to kill Stefan. My human Stefan. He turns to me – his eyes landing on me for the slightest of moments before moving to Stefan, who is coming through that memory laden doorframe.

"Oh man, sorry about this." His voice is so cool and slick, not wavering a bit. "I was so tired, I was delirious." He's changed clothes, now in a pair of jogging pants that sit low on his waist, a dark blue ribbed tank top, and a white baseball cap.

"So you threw your food in the floor, broke some beer bottles and ripped off your shirt?" Damon asked, his brow furrowed and lips snarled with frustration.

Stefan laughs, grabbing a beer from the fridge. "Damn teenagers."