Barely A Memory

Chapter 22

"Hm?" He acted as if he had no clue what she was talking about. Liar.

She laughed a little and picked her own bag up off of the floor. "You guys have gotten closer. I don't trust her, but she seems to get you." She didn't quite know what to say after that. She's good for you. No. You seem happy with her. Sort of. The words left a slight taste of jealousy in the back of her throat, but Elena swallowed it. She knew not to hold on to something she had already let go of. Damon deserved to be happy, too. And in return, that made her happy. Maybe it was the simple fact that this was her actual last day in Mystic Falls that filled her body with aching nostalgia. It wasn't nostalgia for her former relationship with Damon, no; it wasn't that at all.

She finally asked, "Has Caroline left?"

"I think so."

"I'll see you around," she said, motioning to the upstairs. Her way of mentioning Stefan without mentioning Stefan.

"Yeah. See you."

Elena trekked up the winding staircase without looking back. She didn't really want to.

Her feet were exceptionally heavy across the staircase on her short journey to Stefan's room. She was constantly battling internally with herself: to visit him, or to not visit him. Of course, she had to. It was her goal to leave tomorrow, and if anyone deserved a proper goodbye and explanation, it was Stefan. Even if he chose not to forgive her for her decision to leave, she would give him an explanation. She would explain the situation and leave. If he tried to convince her otherwise, she'd go. If he tried to move heaven and earth to keep her, she'd cry herself to sleep every night but still, she'd go.

Stefan had sacrificed himself for her once. It was her turn to sacrifice herself for him. It's not like they could keep her forever, after all. One day they would let her go. She would return for him. And hopefully his heart would still be hers. Hopefully.

A song was playing in his room, its slow, haunted thrums vibrating across the hall, from the floorboards into her toes, reverberating back and forth in her chest for a while. She nearly seemed empty in there.

It was beautiful, the song. Not something he'd usually be listening to.

Elena rested against the doorway and merely watched him for a few moments as he ran his fingertips gingerly across his desk, the once meaningful heirlooms now meaningless to him. He read over a letter –which appeared to be from Lexi—a few times before setting it down. The words were so hollow.

Elena swallowed the lump in her throat and finally gained the courage to speak. "She was your best friend: Lexi." Stefan slowly turned his head and came in contact with her eyes. His head was hung low, his shoulders slumped. He was visibly exhausted. She could only imagine how he felt on the inside. "She died. She died horribly." She hung her head in disgust at the memory. "I was there. You loved her so much, Stefan. I'm sorry."

This story, of course, stirred up no direct memories within him. "Don't apologize."

She needed to apologize, though. "If you choose to remember everything, you need to know that it was a lot of pain you dealt with. You were in a mental fist-fight with death every day. I hated how the idea was always there, always in the back of your mind. Some days, of course were better than others, but there's no doubt that you considered it every single day. When I left you behind, I guess you let it win."

He believed her, he did. "That's not why you came in here though, was it?"

She hung her head in shameful agreement. "I shouldn't have broken the link. I should have told you."

Stefan couldn't disagree. "Yes. You should have." Once again, he turned his back to her and busied himself with simple chores, like re adjusting picture frames or brushing non-existent dust off of furniture.