Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
⌠ 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙁𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉 ⌡ ───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────
John Gilbert had told Rory to go to bed, telling her that he'd explain tomorrow. Rory knew that he was hiding something, and both Elena and Stefan were definitely in on it, but there was nothing she could do—she was way too tired to argue and she just wanted a good night's rest. So, she told them that she'd retire to bed and talk to them in the morning. Now, at about 9 am, she was sitting at the dining table on her own with a cup of coffee in hand.
Her laptop was open beside her, her eyes skimming through the reading material that was emailed by her lecturer. She paused as Elena descended from the staircase. "Good morning," Rory greeted. Elena paused in her steps, eyes flickering towards her older twin sitting in front of her. She swallowed nervously. Rory raised an eyebrow, taking in her unsure demeanour. "Everything okay?"
Elena bit her lip, before sliding into the chair across from her. "Rory, I have something to tell you—"
"Does it have something to do with our tool bag uncle asleep in the guest room?" Rory interjected. "If it's about the fact that he's probably going to disappear after being a shithead, then don't bother; I already know."
"Rory, no," Elena shook her head. "It's, um... it's something else. Something about our parents," Elena paused as Rory took another sip of her coffee. Rory gestured for her to go on. "Rory, our parents weren't our real parents."
Rory set the cup of coffee on the table calmly.
"Is this your idea of some sick joke?" Rory asked.
"I'm... I'm telling you the truth. We were adopted—"
"Don't," Rory intervened. "If you're going to tell me what I think you're saying—"
"John is our father," Elena finished.
Silence befell the dining room. Rory pursed her lips as her hands clenched into tight fists at her side. She could feel her nails digging into her palms, piercing through her skin. Elena fidgeted in her seat nervously. "How long have you known?"
"Last year," Elena confessed.
"Fuck you," Rory spat, pushing herself into a standing position.
"Rory, please—"
"If you touch me, I will kill you," Rory snarled, whipping towards her sister as she attempted to reach out. Elena immediately backed off, holding her hands up in surrender. Rory swallowed, finally registering her harsh words. She let out a shaky breath. "You've known since last year and you never bothered to tell me."
"It wouldn't be good for you, Rory..." Elena whispered. "You were finally going to therapy—"
"Elena, I'm doing better. I came back here because I was doing better. On the first day I arrived in itself John was here, and you didn't even think to mention that he's our real dad?" Rory gave her an incredulous look. "Don't you dare pin it on my mental health, because it's not my fault. It was just you being irresponsible."
