the truth

chapter eighteen

"What are you doing here?" Damon inquired confused
"I heard about Rose and I just wanted to make sure that you're okay." Aurora admitted handing him a glass of scotch, her eyes reflecting genuine concern.
"I appreciate the gesture. I'm just glad it's over." Damon replied taking a sip of his drink, trying to downplay his emotions.
"You know I don't believe that." Aurora sighed
"Go home, Rory. Get some rest. It's a whole new day tomorrow." Damon dismissed the girl

"Damon, I'm your friend." Aurora persisted
"I'm well aware of that." Damon acknowledged her statement.
"And a friend usually knows when their friend is hurting." Aurora continues
"What do you want to hear? That I cared about Rose? That I'm upset? Well, I didn't, and I'm not." Damon, trying to deflect, expressed his supposed indifference.

"There you go, pretending to turn it off, pretending not to feel. Damon, you're so close, don't give up." Aurora expressed seeing through his façade.
"I feel, Rory, okay? And it sucks! What sucks even more is that it was supposed to be me. Jules was coming after me." Damon revealed a layer of guilt beneath his tough exterior.

"You feel guilty." Aurora empathized.
"That would be human of me, wouldn't it, Rory? And I'm not human. You want to talk about giving up? That's all you've done is give up! Go home. It's been enough doom, gloom, and personal growth for one night." Damon concluded making Aurora nod understandingly.
"Okay, I will. Good night, Damon." Aurora accepted his words, deciding to leave but not before giving him a heartfelt hug. She left the Salvatore boarding house and headed home.

As she pulled into the driveway leading to the Gilbert household, she put the car in park and turned it off when her eyes were drawn to a picture of her and her mother on Jenna's dashboard, a snapshot of a time that now felt both distant and achingly close. Unable to contain her grief, Aurora's tears fell freely. As her sobs grew louder, the weather seemed to respond in kind. Stefan, residing in the Gilbert house after his visit with Elena, was drawn outside by the inexplicable changes in the weather. The flickering lights and shattered lightbulb outside caught his attention, and he hurried to investigate. Stepping onto the porch, he saw the distressed figure of Aurora in the car, her cries echoing through the storm.

Knocking on the window, he startled Aurora, who glanced over to see Stefan's concerned face. Embarrassed by her vulnerability, she wiped away tears and rolled down the window.
"Everything okay?" Stefan wondered concerned but Aurora, who was unable to find her words, shook her head in a  negative response and whimpered. Stefan, sensing her distress, urged her to unlock the car. With a nod, Aurora rolled up the window and stepped out into the pouring rain, letting the door close behind her to shield the interior from the elements. Stefan gestured for her to join him on the front porch. Overwhelmed, Aurora complied, still clutching the photograph she found in Jenna's car.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this. It's just with Rose's death... it reminded me of my mom and I found this." Aurora confessed as she handed Stefan the picture, a poignant moment frozen in time. Stefan examined the photograph, his heart aching for her loss.
"I miss her so much, Stefan. I can't believe she's gone." Aurora expressed sadly. Moved by her pain, Stefan pulled her into a comforting hug. Aurora's tears soaked into his shirt as he shushed her, running his fingers through her hair to offer solace.

"I know, Rory. I know. But everything's going to be okay. It just takes time." Stefan reassured the girl making Aurora's lip tremble, and she nodded against his chest, finding some semblance of comfort in his embrace. As they held each other, Stefan noticed an odd phenomenon—the rain began to subside, and the storm seemed to lose its fury. Glancing down, he saw the shattered glass on the porch and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Aurora, sensing the change in weather, pulled away from Stefan, her eyes reflecting bewilderment as her brain pieced two and two together.