𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯

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[season four || episode seven ]
my brother's keeper

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oneirataxia:
(n.) the inability to distinguish
between fantasy and reality

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Although he knew Maddie wanted to be alone for her first night back in the Gilbert home, Stefan's anxiety couldn't stop gnawing at him. It was like a monster was bubbling inside him, waiting to be released. Thoughts of her switching off her humanity again made his heart freeze. He didn't want history to repeat itself and take away the one person worth fighting for.

He knocked on the front door late at night, knowing someone was still awake. Their footsteps could be heard shuffling in the kitchen. Upon hearing his knock, Elena opened the door.

"Hey, Stefan," Elena said sleepily, already mindful of the eye bags that would emerge on her face the next morning. Crickets chirped, almost as if they were telling her to head to take a nap. It was so quiet that it seemed like the entire world was asleep, tempting her head to hit a pillow. She yawned, rubbing her eyes. "You here to check on Mads?"

"Yeah." Stefan chuckled. "Why are you still up?"

"Everyone is taking turns to stay up, just in case she has any nightmares and needs us," Elena whispered, a cup of coffee enveloped in her hands. "I just switched with Pietro. It took a while to convince him. I'm guessing you want to see her?"

Stefan nodded. The way Stefan cared so much for Madeline made Elena smile and allow him to enter. "Thank you, Stefan." the brunette said, praying for the coffee's heat to transfer to her hands.

"For what?" Stefan said.

Headed for the couch, Elena replied. "For saving my sister. Just for being there for her." With that, she went to the couch and left Stefan with a smile on his face. Being drawn toward Madeline, he walked up the steps and stood in front of her room, listening for any movement. Careful not to make any noise, he entered, eyes softening at her sleeping figure.

He sat on the edge of the bed, pushing back a strand of hair behind her ear. If a star appeared in the atmosphere each time he thought of her, the blanket of opaque nothingness would no longer be visible. Wondering what was going on in her mind, his eyes admired her face, the moonlight poking through the window revealing the litter of extremely light freckles. There was never a point where he didn't find her absolutely perfect, able to stare at her for hours. In his eyes, she was poetry — a few words that can say thousands in a single sentence, conquering people's hearts.

Recognizing the warmth of his skin, even in her sleep, Madeline's green eyes fluttered open. Ripples of realization surged within her, instantly grinning at the sight of her favorite Salvatore. "Just couldn't stay away, could you?" she said.

Although Stefan rolled his eyes, he could feel the corners of his mouth rapidly curve up. Wistfully, he stared into her eyes, having missed the person he loved the most. "You caught me."

She wanted to feel his lips against hers — to remember the spark she felt whenever his hands would slip from her nape to her hips. But the gnawing feeling of not being worthy of everyone's love stopped her, so she held back, storing it away. It was like she was in a ceaseless void, bound to doubt.

She tried to hide those emotions, but there wasn't much she could do to conceal it from someone who knew her inside and out and loved all versions of her.

With a worried expression, Stefan commented, "Don't think about those things, Leine."

Moving to sit up, Madeline muttered, "Easier said than done, Stefano." She glanced down at her hands, fidgeting. Furrowing his brows, Stefan examined the bags under her drooping eyes that were fighting fatigue.

𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 ༄ 𝗦. 𝗦𝗔𝗟𝗩𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗘 ²︎Where stories live. Discover now