The purr of the car's engine faded as you pulled up outside the Forbes home. The golden evening light stretched across Mystic Falls, washing the house in warmth. You stepped out, walking around the car with a slow, confident stride, opening the door for Caroline.
She exited without a word, her lips still tinged with the faintest curve from earlier smiles. Her posture straightened as the front door opened—Liz Forbes appearing, coffee cup in hand, leaning against the frame like she'd been waiting.
"Caroline," she said, her voice firm but motherly. "Inside."
Caroline nodded, glancing at you with a look you recognized now—one of curiosity, confusion, but growing comfort. As she walked past her mother, she didn't miss the flush rising in Liz's cheeks at the sight of you.
You offered a subtle smirk.
Liz didn't say anything. She didn't need to. The blush spoke volumes.
Later that night, you found yourself at the Salvatore Boarding House. Elena was in the parlor alone, curled up on the couch, arms crossed protectively across her body, though no one else was there to hurt her anymore.
You entered quietly.
She didn't startle—just looked up, her eyes tired but focused.
"They said it," she murmured before you even spoke. "Everything you made them say… it was true."
You nodded once. "It had to be."
Elena leaned her head back, staring at the ceiling like it held answers.
"Damon wants a version of me that makes him feel worthy," she said bitterly. "And Stefan… he wants to rewrite the past. With my face."
You didn't interrupt. She needed to say it aloud.
"I thought I was being loved," she whispered. "But I was just… filling gaps."
You took a step closer.
"You deserve more than being a placeholder, Elena. You deserve to be seen. Chosen—for you. Not your bloodline. Not your resemblance."
She looked up at you now, her brows slightly furrowed.
"And you think I'll find that with your family?"
You didn't hesitate.
"Yes. With Elijah."
Her breath caught. A name that hadn't been spoken in some time—but one that still held weight in her heart.
"He treated me with so much respect," she admitted, voice soft. "Like I mattered… not because of what I was, but who I was."
You smiled faintly.
"Because to Elijah, you were never a means to an end. You were noble. And he doesn't say that lightly."
She looked down again, swallowing hard.
"Do you think he still…?"
"Elijah never forgets light when he sees it. He just waits for it to remember how to shine."
She was silent for a while.
You took another step, voice lowering.
"You don't have to stay here, Elena. You don't owe the Salvatores anything. Come live with us. With my family. Not as a guest—as someone who belongs."
Her eyes widened slightly. "You're offering me a home?"
"A sanctuary. A place where no one tries to change you. Where the people around you would die to protect you—without asking you to become someone else first."
She stared into the fireplace for a long moment. The flames reflected in her eyes, but they were her own kind of fire too—soft and slow to start, but strong once lit.
"I'll think about it," she said at last.
You gave her a nod and turned to leave, pausing at the threshold.
"It's not about escaping," you said quietly. "It's about choosing yourself this time."
And then you were gone—leaving Elena with her first real choice in a long, long time.