Chapter 5
There was something very different in the way Stefan looked at you now.
It wasn’t obvious at first—he was still the same Stefan, still distant in ways, still haunted by the weight of whatever past he refused to share. But in the quiet moments, when he thought you weren’t looking, you’d catch it.
The way his gaze lingered.
The way his fingers traced the back of your hand absently when he thought you were asleep.
The way he pulled you closer when he should have been pulling away.
Maybe it was foolish, maybe it was naive—but you knew for sure.
Something was changing.
—————
Stefan had spent a century learning how to be alone.
He had been through it all—love, loss, heartbreak, the endless cycle of finding something worth holding onto just to watch it slip away.
So, when you came into his life, he told himself it was temporary.
But then one night like many, he found himself standing at the Mystic Grill, drink in hand, waiting for you to hopefully show up to the event there.
Not just expecting you—but counting on it.
And the second you walked in, smiling when you spotted him, waving off Elena as you made your way toward him, something shifted.
Because he felt it. The weight of what this had become.
He had never waited for anyone before. He had never wanted someone to walk through the door so badly that his whole body felt tense until they did.
But here you were.
And suddenly, the thought of you not showing up? The thought of you walking past him, choosing some other table, laughing at someone else’s jokes—
It did something to him.
Something he wasn’t ready to name.
—————
You were falling in love with him, had been from the start.
And Stefan… well, you weren’t sure yet.
He wasn’t like other people. He wasn’t open, wasn’t easy to read. Only the smallest bit had you cracked open at the bar that one day. But that never mattered to you. He didn’t have to say much for you to feel everything. You saw it in the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.
In the beginning, it had been just intimacy.
The past late nights. Lingering touches. Texts exchanged at odd hours, the unspoken understanding that what you had was physical and nothing more.
And yet, something had shifted after that one day at the bar.
Stefan started staying longer.
Some nights, he wouldn’t leave at all.
You weren’t sure when it happened, but suddenly, it wasn’t just about being in his bed—it was about being with him.
It was about the way he took you on long drives through Mystic Falls, letting the cool night air wash over you both as the world faded into nothing.
It was about the nights he let you rest your head against his shoulder under the stars, not saying much, just existing together.
It was about the way he held you—like he was trying not to let go.
Maybe he hadn’t said it yet.
Maybe he didn’t even realize it himself.
But Stefan cared.
And that was enough.
—————
One night, you were lying beside him, tangled in the sheets of his bed, your fingers tracing light patterns across his skin. The room was dark except for the faint glow from the streetlights outside.
—"Tell me something about you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
Stefan exhaled slowly. "You already know me."
—"Not really," you admitted, propping yourself up on one elbow to look at him. "You never talk about yourself."
His green eyes flickered toward you, something unreadable in them.
—"You never ask."
You smiled softly. "That's not true. You just never answer."
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips, but he didn’t deny it.
Silence stretched between you, heavy with things unsaid.
Then, finally, Stefan sighed. "There’s nothing interesting about me."
—"That’s a lie," you said simply, settling back against his chest. "I think everything about you is interesting."
For a moment, he didn’t respond.
Then, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it, he whispered, "That’s what scares me.”
You didn’t push him.
You didn’t need to.
Because he was falling too.
He just wasn’t ready to admit it yet.
—————
The way Stefan lingered in doorways before heading out at night, like he was debating whether to leave at all. The way his phone was always in reach, not because he was expecting a call from anyone important—but because he was expecting you. The way he had stopped looking for excuses to disappear when he was with you, stopped setting limits, stopped treating this as just another passing moment in his endless, haunted life.
Damon had seen this before, but not for a very long time.
So, he watched. Waited. Let Stefan think he was keeping it a secret, let him believe that the walls he had built around himself were still intact, that no one had noticed the cracks forming beneath the weight of you. But Damon saw everything.
He saw it when Stefan started texting back right away, instead of letting hours pass to keep things distant. He saw it when Stefan started showing up to the Grill alongside Damon without being asked—because you were there. He saw it when Stefan, the king of brooding solitude, actually smiled when he thought no one was looking, when you brushed against him absentmindedly, when your laugh filled the air like it was the only thing he wanted to hear.
But the moment Damon knew—the moment all doubt evaporated—was one night at the boarding house.
Stefan had been in the living room, sitting on the couch, staring at his phone in a way Damon had never seen before. Not hesitant. Not conflicted. Just lost in thought, caught up in something Damon could only assume was you.
And then Stefan did something that sealed it.
He sighed. A long, quiet, almost fond sigh, the kind Damon hadn’t heard in years. He rubbed a hand down his face, exhaling as if he had been fighting something within himself for too long. And then, just barely, Stefan let a smile slip—soft, fleeting, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.
And that was it.
That was everything.
Damon knew Stefan was really back in love.
—————
Stefan wanted you.
More than just physically. More than just in passing.
You were already a part of his life, slipping into the spaces he hadn’t realized were empty.
And it terrified him.
He had lived too long, lost too much. People didn’t stay. Love didn’t last.
And yet, here you were.
So for the first time in a long time, Stefan was doing something he never thought he’d do again.
When this all started, it was supposed to be temporary—a momentary escape, nothing deeper than a connection between two people who sought comfort in each other. But somewhere between the late-night drives, the soft laughter beneath the stars, and the way you always looked at him like he was someone worth loving, Stefan had lost the ability to see this as fleeting.
You were there—in his thoughts, in his quiet moments, in every place he had tried to keep untouched by emotion.
And worst of all?
You weren’t just someone to him anymore.
You were everything.
So now, as he sat alone in his room, staring at his phone, debating whether to text you for another one of your usual late-night meetups, something inside him snapped.
This wasn’t enough.
He wanted more.
For the first time in decades, he wanted something real.
The thought alone sent a wave of fear crashing through him.
He was a vampire. He wasn’t supposed to have this.
But with you?
God, he wanted to try.
…
—"Who the hell is this person?”
Damon’s voice cut through Stefan’s thoughts as opened the door to Stefan’s room abruptly.
Stefan exhaled, instantly irritated. “Drop it, Damon.”
Damon’s smirk didn’t waver.
—“I’ve been hearing things, little brother. Seen some things.” He leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Care to tell me who’s got you acting like a lovesick teenager again? Been a while since I seen you back in love, you know after Elena.—"
Stefan clenched his jaw, cutting Damon off with a death glare. Damon didn’t need to bring up the past nor did Damon need to know about you. Not yet. Not until Stefan figured out what this meant—what you meant to him.
—“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Stefan muttered, reaching for his phone he had put down a while ago.
Damon raised an eyebrow.
—“Oh, it’s my business now. Because last I checked, you don’t do relationships no more. Hell, you barely even do attachments either. And yet, here you are, looking like you’re about to confess your undying love to some person I haven’t even met.”
Stefan’s grip on his phone tightened.
Damon chuckled, tilting his head. “So? What’s so special about this one? Didn’t know anyone was able to get into your heart after the last.”
Stefan didn’t answer.
But the fact that he couldn’t told Damon everything.
—“ I’m proud of you, little brother. Really. It’s been a while since you let yourself fall for someone.” His expression sobered slightly, though the smirk never fully left. “But tell me—how exactly are you planning to explain the whole..blood-drinking, undead thing?”
Stefan froze.
Damon raised his eyebrows in mock. —“Because let’s be real, you can’t exactly have a significant other without telling them you’re a vampire.”
Stefan felt the weight of everything crash down at once.
He had been so caught up in falling for you that he hadn’t thought about what came next.
What would happen when you learned the truth.
And suddenly, asking you to be his felt a lot more complicated.
Damon shook his head, standing up. — “Well, well. This should be interesting.” He shot Stefan a knowing look. “Good luck explaining that you’re a blood-drinking, immortal nightmare.” Stefan exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, looking exhausted already. “Damon—” But Damon just smirked, already heading toward the stairs. “Don’t worry, brother. I’ll save the ‘I told you so’ for later.” And with that, he was gone. Leaving Stefan sitting there, staring at the spot where Damon had just been, gripping his phone a little too tightly— Because for the first time, he had no excuse, no justification, no way to pretend anymore. Damon was right. Stefan was in love. And there was no escaping it now.
And Damon wasn’t sure yet if that was a good thing.