the-vampire-diaries-forever

Tell Me Pt. 1 {Stelena Fan Fic}

I am so so happy that the Stelena fandom has been reading my SE one shots because I have so many different scenarios that I’ve wanted to write for a while and this one is one of them, this is one is sort of how I picture what a SE reunion could’ve realistically looked like on the show. It’s very angsty and dialogue-heavy but I really hope you guys like it and reblog it and comment on it :D stefan4president stefansplaidshirt ashamelessfangirlforever stefan-is-too-sexy-for-you beccacupcakesxo bonkais-witchywoo (I know you don’t really care for Stelena but still) wasabicakes l0nd0ninnit much-lemons kissmebluesexyvioletsme

“I’m getting married tomorrow.”

Elena stood in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection. Her cheeks were flushed red from the tequila, there was glitter in her hair, and she was wearing a flimsy gold tiara that curved into the word ‘bachelorette’ at the top. She was in the ladies’ room at The Mystic Grill and could hear Bonnie, Caroline and Jo laughing raucously even though they were outside at the bar doing more shots and perhaps paying for more lap dances. Elena shook her head and tried to concentrate. She said the words again.

“I, Elena Gilbert, am getting married tomorrow. To Damon Salvatore.”

She waited. Waited for a little flutter to tickle her chest, for an uncontrollable smile to possess her mouth, waited for nervous excitement to wreak havoc on her body, waited for some sort of unruly eagerness to overtake her, eagerness for the night to be over just so it could be tomorrow, just so she could finally finally be married. She waited and she waited some more but none of those sensations came. Instead her stomach squirmed uncomfortably, her heart thudded anxiety into her veins; she almost felt sick with misgiving, with uncertainty. But this is what you want she told herself. You love Damon. You. Love. Damon.

And it was true. She did love him. It was why she was still with him, why she couldn’t pry herself away from him … so then what was the problem? Why did she feel this way? Exhausted and worried and insecure — not in herself but in the relationship as a whole, in what the relationship could and would bring.

She put her hands to her face and took a deep breath then she moved her fingers away and closed her eyes and tried to picture the fantasy she’d painted for Damon once; tried to picture the bar, the loft, Tribeca. But the same thing happened that always happened when she attempted to envision that future; the loft morphed into a house, Tribeca blurred into a suburb and instead of seeing Damon, she saw herself coming home to Stefan — she saw the visions the travellers had tortured her with a year ago. Actually, it was as if she was reliving the visions, reliving the thrill of the moonlit kiss, the heart-stopping shock of the accidental proposal. And she felt it, felt it with her entire body; a longing for that fantasy, a longing so intense it was almost painful to experience, a longing she had silently suffered from everyday since the fantasies had come to her. Elena squeezed her eyes shut for a second time. It made sense that she felt that way, she thought to herself. It made sense because that was the point of the visions, they were impossibilities meant to seduce both her and Stefan with the promise of true love, with the promise that they could and would find true love in each other. It had been a spell to bring the doppelgangers together. It wasn’t real. The feelings weren’t real.

Except …

Except …

It was everything we wanted … it was a spell, showing us what we wanted to see …

Elena thought back to when she’d been Elena Williams for a day and Stefan had been Stefan Cooper. She thought back to the dramatic way Stefan Cooper kicked a chair out of his way and stooped down on one knee, Elena’s daylight ring in his hand and she couldn’t help but grin at the memory. She pressed her lips together in an attempt to stop the grin from transforming into a goofy smile but her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. Stefan’s words echoed in her head: You have always been my best friend … I have always loved you… and Elena felt her skin burn and roil as if she were about to convulse into a fit of giggles much like she did when she’d accepted Stefan’s “proposal.” None of it had been real and even so Elena remembered how natural it felt to say “yes” to marrying him, how excited she’d been at what that would mean and the disappointment that chilled her blood when she’d had to remind herself that they were merely pretending for the day. She remembered the profound loss that plagued her thoughts when she’d hugged him and said goodbye at the end of their make-belief new life, the devastation that shook her when he’d told her that she was in fact in love with Damon, which only meant there was no fathomable way for their make-belief life to become real.

She thought back to the night she transitioned, the night she became a vampire … the night she and Stefan spent on the rooftop of the Salvatore Mansion. She’d promised him forever and he’d produced her daylight ring from his pocket, slipping it onto her finger like an oath and she’d felt an instant calm soothe her, a sense of certainty that everything would work out as long as she’d continued to have moments like that one, moments with Stefan. Even the memory was enough to relieve Elena in present time — enough to still her mind and inspire her with faith that she’d be OK, that she’d feel certainty again as long as Stefan was in her life.

It was how she always felt when she saw him, heard his name: total serenity and the kind of hope that thrilled, that exhilarated. Her entire day would be made better just because she saw him for an instant, a ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth hours after being near him and the urge to touch him, to hug him, to hold him, forever agitated her body. There were times when the impulse was too much to contain and she had to throw her arms around his neck and feel him against her. Three years since they’d been together and she still felt everything she did when they’d been a couple and Damon … Damon … Damon …

Elena peered into her reflection’s eyes, comprehension dawning her face. She understood now. And she had to go. Right away. Right this second. And no one could see her.


It took Elena no time at all to reach the Salvatore Mansion and she’d managed to slip out of The Grill undetected. None of the lights were on in the house but as Elena listened closely, she heard only one person inside, one person breathing, one person’s heart beat. It was Stefan. She could tell.

Quietly, she skulked up the driveway and opened the door, creeping into the shadowed darkness of the foyer. The sound of glasses clinking came from the sitting room and Elena followed the noise until she saw Stefan sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace, his head lowered and a glass of whiskey pressed to his forehead. He looked … conflicted. Something Elena hadn’t seen in years. She shifted her weight, making the floorboard creak and Stefan snapped his head toward her, putting his glass on the coffee table and standing up when he realized she was standing in the archway leading into the living room.

“Hey,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows at the sight of her. “Shouldn’t you be at your party?”

“Shouldn’t you be at Damon’s?” said Elena, walking down the steps. “Aren’t you the one that planned it?”

“I was there. I left early. One of us has to be sober for your big day.”

Elena smiled. “Right.”

“Did you come here looking for him because—”

“No, Stefan. I…” Elena laughed nervously and sat down on the sofa. “I came by to see if you were here, actually.”

Stefan took a sip of his drink and sat down next to her, the orange flicker of the fire throwing both of their seated shadows against the wall. “What’s up?” he said.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I guess it kind of felt necessary to see you tonight, like I had to thank you.”

“For what?”

She looked at him and opened her mouth hesitantly. “Well, um. Hmm. OK. I want to thank you because I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, if I hadn’t met you.”

“Well yeah. It’s because of me that you met Damon.”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. How do I explain…” Elena shook her head quickly, clearing her throat. “You know I keep saying that you saved my life? And I don’t mean that literally even though you’ve done that so many times too.”

“Oh I know what this is,” said Stefan. “You’re taking this time to pay me back for all of the times I’ve kept you from dying. Now what kind of monetary value do you put on your own life?”

“Stefan,” said Elena in playful reproach. She shoved him gently to the side and he grinned.

“OK sorry,” he said. “What were you saying?”

Elena tilted her head affectionately and sighed. “I’m saying that I don’t think I really knew what it was to love someone until I met you,” she said. “And before we met … I didn’t think my life would be anything but misery. But then you came along and …” She could feel her voice thicken, her eyes start to shine with unshed tears. “I could enjoy things again, laugh again, I wanted to be alive. You make me want things. You bring me hope, you know? You never stopped doing that for me. I can love because of you, I’m happy because of you.”

Stefan’s lips quaked and he pulled them into a smile. “And it led you to Damon,” he said, nodding his head. “I’m glad that I did that for you, that I brought you what you really wanted because that’s all I’ve ever wanted. For you to be happy. Really, Elena. And now you can love like that with Damon.”

“No I can’t, Stefan,” said Elena. Stefan turned his head sharply toward her. “I can’t love anyone how I love you,” she continued. “It’d be impossible to try but still I’ve been trying, I’ve been trying for three years and it just can’t happen. I just can’t feel that way with anyone else, about anyone else.” 

“Elena…”

She looked Stefan square in the eye, her expression resolute and timidly hopeful. “With Damon. Everything feels right for a moment and it’s a beautiful moment. It is. I need you to know that because he’s your brother and you love him and you’re protective of him so I want you to get that. Everything is right for a moment. But then I’m, I don’t know, burnt out? Just empty and tired from trying to hold on to that one moment because I love him, you know, I love him enough to try and stick it out, to try and find another moment. I love him enough to pretend I’m not unfulfilled but I am. Being with him isn’t just right. It’s right now. It’s for a little while. But you? You are always. You’ve always been always. I’ve never not been in love with you.”

There was a pause in which Stefan stared at Elena, his expression unreadable. He then looked up to the ceiling and then lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, his jaw tightened and Elena watched him as he wrestled with whatever he was about to say. Finally, he looked back at her, his eyes pained and blazing with anger. “So is what you just said supposed to make me happy?”

“What I just said is supposed to be the truth.”

“Are you sure, Elena? Are you sure that you aren’t just freaking out about the idea of marriage and you’re self-sabotaging just like Damon would do?” Elena tensed at hearing the anger in Stefan’s voice. He continued. “Has his personality rubbed off on you that much that you would do this?”

 “I’m not self-sabotaging.”

“Sure,” said Stefan sceptically.

Elena sighed. She knew what he was doing. He was hoping, wishing for this to simply be cold feet. Cold feet he could fix. The truth he couldn’t.

 “Stefan,” said Elena, her tone gentle but determined. “From the minute Damon and I got engaged I’ve been reliving those visions the travellers made us fantasize about, remember? And just the joy that they brought … that’s what speaks to me.”

“So move to Ithaca instead of Tribeca. Buy a house. Maybe you can adopt—”

“It’s not about the location, Stefan, it’s not even about the kids. It’s about you. It’s about a life with you and how happy I was at seeing that life I built with you. I’ve been saying since we saw those visions that it was all a spell, a fantasy, I don’t know, but the way I felt about the spell … that was real and I thought that it couldn’t be real because it wasn’t hard and what Damon and I had to be the path that I should go on because it was so hard and there had to be a reason why every day was a struggle but —”

“But what? What are you saying? That you love my brother but you love me a little bit more?”

“It isn’t like that.”

“How do you expect me to react to this?” Stefan was yelling now. He stood up and gesticulated furiously. “It’s the night before your wedding!”

“Timing was never really my strong suit,” whispered Elena.

“And that makes this OK? I’m just supposed to forgive you for doing this to me? To Damon?”

“No.” Elena stood up too and stepped toward him. He moved away from her but she grabbed his arm and he stilled, his body half-turned away from her.

“I hide from things,” she said. “I avoid. I always have. I’m not proud of it it’s my biggest fault. But you… you would never let me hide. Or avoid. Not when I started feeling something for Damon, not when Alaric died, not when I got my humanity back. So being with Damon, I think I avoided you, I hid from you so I wouldn’t have to face that choosing a life with Damon wasn’t choosing a life I wanted for myself. I couldn’t face that. Not after everything we all went through for me to make the choice that was Damon.”

Elena watched as the hostility left the etches of Stefan’s face; watched as his expression became anguished, devastated, as his eyes started to water. There seemed to be a tremor beneath his skin, causing his face to tremble. Elena felt her own eyes well once more with tears and she tightened her grip on Stefan’s arm, easing him to her so that he slowly started to move so that he was turned completely to her. Their faces were inches from each other and Stefan swallowed hard, his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched. Elena placed her palms on the sides of his face and immediately, Stefan grabbed her wrists; it was a warning but he did nothing to move her hands away and stared at her, his expression raw.

“I shouldn’t even be here,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion. “None of this would happen if I just stayed at the party.”

“Why didn’t you?” said Elena, her eyes moving back and forth, forbidding Stefan to look away from her gaze.

“You know why I didn’t,” he said.

“Tell me.”

“Elena, I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“No, I…”

“Stefan.” She gently gripped his face with her hands. He squeezed her wrists and closed his eyes.

“Please don’t make me say it,” he whispered. “Please don’t make me hate myself more than I already do.”

Elena sniffed. “You don’t owe me a thing,” she said. “But please. I need to hear you say it.” She pressed her forehead against his so that their noses touched, their lips only a breath away from each other. Stefan moved his hands from Elena’s wrists to the sides of her face as well, feeling her tears on his palm.

“I couldn’t be there any longer,” he said quietly. 

“Tell me,” she said softly.

“I don’t want you to marry him, Elena.”

And with no hesitation or preamble, she brought his lips to hers.

End of Part I

P.S.

I put in this vid I made because I made it the same time I wrote this so it’s like a visual companion piece :)

8

That’s the problem, Stefan. It doesn’t really matter how far away you are. You’re still you    kind, loyal, who, with one look, can convince me that I’m not crazy. That’s the Stefan that I fell for, and that’s the Stefan who can bring me back.