1993 — Mystic Falls, Virginia

   She knew how to swim, practically an expert at it, but kissing Stefan Salvatore felt a lot like drowning. Her legs were tired and struggling to bring her back to the surface; she couldn't hear the chatter or the fireworks outside. Her head was pounding and every cell in her body was screaming for oxygen.

   Florence pulled away from him, inhaling well-needed air. Her hands were still on his neck, the feeling of his skin both warm and cold to the touch. From his lips, she looked up to his eyes. Summer. They were pure summer: freshly cut green grass, fireworks of every colour lighting up the night sky, a fire in the middle of the night at the backyard, roasting s'mores, sneaked kisses amidst the chatter of their friends and family. The Gilbert girl felt her heart speed up, her words getting caught in her throat.

   "Flo..." he uttered, his fingers gently pressing on her waist.

   Florence pushed herself from him and looked away, pressing her fingers to her mouth. "S-sorry," she stuttered. "I didn't... I meant to... I shouldn't... Sorry." She didn't know what to say to him, whether she should apologise for kissing him or tell him that it was one of the best kisses she had ever had.

   "No, I shouldn't have..." Stefan let out a sigh. "Flo, we can't do this because..."

   "Because of Damon," she finished, turning back to him. "Yeah, I know. You mentioned that several times now, Stefan."

   He stared at her for several moments, as if he were drinking her in. The lights from outside shining on her perfectly, making her brown hair appear as if it had several strands of gold. Her brown eyes, although they were tired and with red-lines like maps from the tears, reminded him a lot of rocks against the shore that destroyed ships. They melted him in their facade of brown, then pulled him under and drowned him.

   "If I could be with you without your life being in danger, I would do it in a heartbeat," he slowly said, allowing his words to sink in. "You make me happy, the happiest I've been in a really long time, and that's the problem. Damon wants to destroy my happiness; he would kill you."

   Florence swallowed and took a deep breath, rubbing her arm as she moved to take a seat on the edge of her bed. "What did he mean by that?" The curiosity had gotten the best of her, and she wanted to know. "What did he mean by a lifetime of misery?"

   Stefan sucked in a breath and rubbed his neck, his other hand on his waist. "I, uh..." He looked down at the floor and pressed his lips together tightly. "He's a vampire because of me."

   "What?"

   "The taste of blood was like being under the most powerful drug," he divulged. "I wanted more, and more, and I ended up killing quite a few people because of that." He took a seat besides her, but also kept his distance. "I didn't want to be alone for eternity, so I forced my brother to complete the transition, too." He stared at his hands as he spoke, rubbing them together as if he could see something in them and wanted to get rid of it.

   Florence glanced from his hands to his face, her lips pressed tightly together. She scratched the palm of her hand even though it didn't itch, and her heart was beating fast. She wondered if he would also force her to complete the transition if she died with Damon's blood in her system. A silly thought since she lived in Mystic Falls, and the only ones that died were the old and terribly sick. She was thinking far too ahead in her future, but then Damon appeared in her mind. He had killed Rachelle Watson without a care, he could do the same to her. The image of Damon disappeared, replaced by the snake coiling around the rabbit.

   "How can he hate you that much?" she wondered out loud. "Part of me thinks that an eternity would be fun."

   Stefan looked at her in bewilderment and amusement. "What?"

   "I like history, it's fun and full of amazing things that have happened. For one, I would want to see the world. Two, I'd want to see how much it changes," she smiled. "How will the world be in 2013, and long after that? Maybe we'll have flying cars, or maybe we'll have settlements in Mars." A small laugh left her lips. "You were alive during the Civil War, Stefan, and then for the first war, the second, the Korean War, Vietnam... Part of me thinks that's absolutely amazing!"

   "And the other part of you?"

   Her smile faded, leaving behind slightly parted lips and eyes cast down to her hand. "Eternity is lonely," she said, her voice cracking. "I don't think I'd be able to survive an eternity knowing that everyone around me would eventually be gone."

   Florence Gilbert loved her family, and her friends. She loved them to the point that leaving Mystic Falls made her feel physically sick. Although there were times she wanted to be as far as possible from them, she knew that she'd never be able to actually leave the town she was born and raised in, or the people.

   "It get's easier," Stefan said, his voice soft and his smile barely there. "As time goes by, it gets easier."

   "But, it still hurts, doesn't it?"

   He nodded. "It still hurts," he agreed. "And some hurt more than others."

   Florence bit her bottom lip and stared at him. She wanted to reach over and grab his hand, maybe kiss him again. Instead, she played with her hands on her lap. "And to the other person? Do they hurt, too?"

   "No," he said, "because I compel them to forget that they ever knew me."

   "Don't do that to me," she quickly said as she grabbed him by the arm. "If you leave, don't compel me to forget you, Stefan." She knew that she wanted the memories of them to stay, to replay in her mind over and over again until she fell asleep. If they disappeared, replaced with fake memories, there would be a small hole in her heart.

   "Okay," he said after several moments of silence. He glanced from her hand on his arm to her face, and repeated the word again, "Okay."

   "Do we need to make this a blood oath?" She smiled at him and arched a brow, pulling her hand back lap. "Everyone knows you can't break a blood oath."

   He laughed and shook his head. "Uh, no, Florence, we don't need to make this a blood oath."

   "Are you sure?"

   "I'm positive," he nodded. "No blood needs to be spilled."

   "Except those cute little bunnies you feed on," she playfully said, giving him a big smile. She hated that she had made him relive a memory he hated, so she decided to bring in some humour. "Thank God I don't have a pet; you could have eaten it."

   He stood. "I will leave right now if you keep making jokes."

   She grabbed his arm again and grinned widely, pushing back the ache she felt in her chest. "Come on," she strained the O in on, and slightly pouted. "I won't make any more vampire jokes."

   "That's your second vampire joke I've heard," he smiled. "The first was when you called Damon Nosferatu in the Nineties."

   "You do know that Nosferatu meant vampire, right?" She took a step back and pushed a strand of lose hair behind her ear. "It was based on Bram Stoker's Dracula."

   "Vampire became Nosferatu," Stefan nodded. "Count Dracula became Count Orlok. I know. I watched it when it came out in theatres in 1929."

   Florence stared at him for a couple of seconds. She realised that she spoke so normal to him, so naturally, that she forgot that he had been born before the Civil War. He was the son of one of the first settlers in Mystic Falls, a founding family just like hers. He knew her ancestors, the ones that came from Germany or Bulgaria—she wasn't absolute from where exactly her family came from.

   "Right," she nodded, scratching her arm as she bit the inner corner of her lip. "Of course you did."

   The door burst open and Cher appeared, a wild grin on her face. The grin faded and a pout appeared. "What is this?" She crossed her arms and glanced between them. "There's too much distance between the two of you. Why isn't Flo sporting a hickey and why isn't Stefan shirtless?"

   "Oh, my God!" Florence rubbed her temples and stared at her friend with wide eyes. "Are you serious?"

   "One hundred percent," the blonde nodded. "I just need you two to get together so my life will be completed." She let out a sigh and shook her head, her hands on her waist. "Let me guess, no because of Damon, right? Stefan, if you keep letting your ass of a brother dictate what you do and how you feel, you might as well go to him right now and ask him whether you should go shit in the bathroom or in the backyard like a dog."

   Florence's eyes widened and her mouth fell open. She had heard Cher talk like before, but it had been once. The blonde girl had gone off on a boy for inappropriately touching her, calling him all sorts of name under the sun and then slapping him. The young Gilbert girl stayed behind, surprised and a bit scared of the blonde and what would happen afterwards. She knew that Cher Gaines would and could go off at any person, but she never imagined that it would have been Stefan.

   "You know what, why don't I just go downstairs and ask Damon for you?" Cher continued.

   Stefan sighed besides her and shook his head, his hands on his waist. "Cher, stay out of it."

   "Stay out of it?" She laughed and did a full circle, sarcasm radiating from her voice. "I saw Damon feed from some girl, and I know you two are vampires, and I know your ass of a brother gave Florence his blood. I'm part of this too, whether you want it or not. And since I'm part of it, I can say that you're being an idiot for letting Damon dictate your life. You like Florence, so ask her out on another one of your outings to that diner out of town. Then, maybe go out to the movies and see Jurassic Park—it's great, by the way." She raised her hands in front of her and took a deep breath to calm herself down. "This would be so much easier if you weren't a vampire."

   Stefan let out a soft chuckle and shook his head in amusement. He looked down at his feet for several seconds, his bottom lip between his teeth. "I, uh..." He scratched his head and nodded. "Okay."

   "Okay?" Cher and Florence said in unison. They glanced at each other before turning back to him.

   "Okay," he repeated, nodding.

   Florence felt a hand intertwine with hers, fingers gently pressing against the back of her hand as the other hand closed. She looked down to see that it was Stefan's hand. Her heartbeat began to quicken, her mouth slowly opened, and she felt her stomach do flips.

   "Okay?" questioned Cher. "That's it? You're not going to keep fighting me? I have a whole speech prepared about how you and Flo are meant to be it's better than the one I gave earlier."

   "You're right," Stefan said, his hand gently squeezing hers. "I've allowed Damon to dictate every move I made for a long time. It's time for that to stop."

   Florence continued to stare at their hands, the feeling making her chest feel warm. It was a lot like diving, she could have moved their hand in any direction or just stop and float for a while. Not even birds could do that. She inhaled a deep breath and tried to hide the smile that so easily spread around her lips. 

   "The Fourth of July is such an eventful day here in Mystic Falls," Cher commented. "We adopted the Declaration of Independence, and Florence gets a boyfriend."

   The Gilbert girl glared at her, but it soon disappeared. The smile she had tried to hide kept pushing its way through, forcing her lips to spread even if she wanted to keep them straight. "It's not that eventful," she muttered, the warmth in her cheeks spreading to the back of her neck. She pulled her hand away from Stefan's and pushed it into her pocket, closing it so the warmth would stay there.

   Cher shrugged her shoulders. "Whatever you say." She motioned them to follow her with her head, then turned and walked out of the room. "So, Bob and I thought it would be a great idea to get out of town for a while. We're thinking New York."

   Florence let out a scoff. "Yeah, like my parents will let me go to New York with you."

   "It's a six hour drive," Cher said with a nonchalant voice, making a face. "It's not that far."

   "No," the Gilbert girl said once they reached the last step. "You said you wanted to go to New York after we graduated, so let's leave it at that." She took a deep breath and bit her bottom lip. "Grayson bought a lake house in the beginning of summer, how about we go there?"

   "Another lake house?" Cher groaned. "Just imagine New York, Flo! Wild nights with fake I.D's, staying out in the city all the night, then watching the sunrise from the rooftop." She was grinning wildly, her thoughts already far away.

   Florence didn't want to go to New York. In fact, she disliked that big city. When she was nine, her parents took her to New York for a small vacation during Christmas. She had always been a curious child, and she decided to leave her parents' side and wonder off. Even though she ended up across the street, she ended up sobbing in the arms of an officer for several hours. It was a terrible memory, and it caused her to stay by her parents all though the visit. When her mother needed to go to the restroom, even in their hotel room, she pleaded to be in there with her.

   The blonde girl stared at her for several moments, then let out a sigh and nodded. "Lake house it is," she mumbled, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "I'll have Scott buy the good beer." She grinned and marched away, almost strutting out to the front of the house. 

   Florence stared at her best friend. She loved her, and she knew she liked to keep her problems hidden at the bottom of a can of cheap beer and on the lips of whomever. Cher Gaines was happy on the outside, but there was a darkness in her that she put into her photography. It was what made the Gilbert girl believe that her best friend could be as famous as Ansel Adams and Andy Warhol, whom Cher idolised. 

   "I think we should actually see the fireworks," Stefan said besides her.

   Florence blinked several times and looked up at him, and nodded. She followed him out the front door, where the slight scent of rotten egg immediately hit her nostrils. Grayson had told her that the smell was from the sulfur and the black powder in the fireworks, but she had always told him that it reminded her of John throwing his meals away in the bin instead of the disposal. 

   The young Gilbert girl went towards her friends at the edge of the sidewalk, and took a seat. Fireworks exploded above them, vivid colours that ignited the night sky. Each one drew patterns into the sky, something unique and breathtaking, never to be repeated no matter how many times ignited. Florence Gilbert loved the Fourth of July, and New Years, only because of the fireworks. She loved staring at them, allowing herself to be in awe with the simple colourful explosions in the sky. They were simple, loud, colourful, but in a way they were magical.

   A hand slid into hers, fingers intertwining and the hold steady. Florence looked down at her hand, then to the owner. Stefan was staring at her, a small smile on his lips. She smiled in return, squeezing his hand, then looked back up at the sky. The smile was eternally strained on her lips, the happiness straining into her bones. She wanted that feeling to be there for a long while, for years and years to come. Happiness was simple for her to attain, from a hug to watching a good film on TV and even a nice dinner, but the hold Stefan had on her hand made her heart soar. She enjoyed every second of it.