(SORRY I WAS JUST CHANGING THE CHAPTERS TITLE)

Alcohol is a strange and treacherous thing. It dulls some senses as much as it sharpens others. It loosens the tongue, peeling back carefully constructed layers until long buried truths tumble out. It has a way of softening the hard edges of memory, distorting intention and time, letting sentimentality creep in where resentment had sunk its roots.

Under its influence, enemies can look like old friends, strangers can feel like soulmates. It can cause you to see certain people in ways you hadn't before, an unexpected glimmer in their eyes, a vulnerability you had never noticed. It carves out a space for empathy, even for those that should be despised.

Inhibitions, once guarded like secrets, slip away unnoticed. Lines blur. Decisions, once unthinkable, are made with reckless ease. In the haze of bourbon and faded logic, moments are born, instances that can change ways of thinking.

Intoxication certainly does more to rush fate than sobriety ever could.

~~~~

"Fucking hell." Mia murmured as she stirred beneath her sheets, the stillness around her interrupted only by the faint rustling of linen. Her limbs were slow to rouse, her head stuck in the fragile space between dreaming and consciousness. A dull awareness settled in first, the gentle touch of cotton against bare skin, the absence of clothing on her legs, except for knee high socks.

She blinked against the early morning light filtering harshly through the half opened curtains, her mind feeling sluggish as she struggled to remember what had happened the night before. The fabric on her torso was familiar yet different than what she typically wore to bed, the scent undeniably masculine.

Then she heard it.

A breath.

Breathing.

The sound alone was enough to still her completely as her heart gave a sudden, sharp lurch in her chest. She knew that sound, knew who it belonged to. With a racing pulse, the Petrova turned her body to lay on her back, her gaze fell on the figure beside her.

On his side, he was facing her, though his eyes remained closed in sleep. One arm was curled slightly toward her, muscles relaxed, hand resting inches from her pillow. The sunlight was cast across his bare shoulders, illuminating the contours of his collarbone. The absence of a shirt somehow caused him to look more vulnerable, the gentle rise and fall of his chest was a noticeable contrast to Mia's.

Her heart pounded as her thoughts raced, frantic, trying to stitch the fragments of the previous night together.There was something unnerving about the peace in his features, especially in the intimacy of their closeness. And still, she couldn't draw her eyes away from him.

Him in her bed.

Him.

Stefan.

~~~~

The winding road seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, a narrow path flanked by towering trees and thick underbrush. Cracks of afternoon sunlight broke through the canopy in scattered beams, gliding the dust on the windshield. The inside of the car was filled with the low hum of music, soulful, smooth and especially intoxicating to a certain vampire.

"I didn't know it was possible to want to fuck a voice." Mia sighed from the passenger seat, her head rested on the window, tilting it more towards the speaker. "Bruno's voice could get me pregnant."

Bonnie shook her head but the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement, her eyes remained fixed on the road, "Are you sure this is the right place?

Mia unfolded the crinkled map in her lap, trailing her finger along the marked path that they had etched with guidance from....whoever it was they were meeting. "He said past the hills, take the left trail where the fence is broken and...there should be a..." Her voice halted as she leaned forward, squinting through the windshield. "There, that's it."

The car slowed as the cabin came into view, small, weather worn and nestled beneath the shade of clustered pines. Ivy climbed along its stone facade and a narrow trail of smoke curled from the chimney, showing signs of it being vacated.

They stepped out the car, their boots crunching over the gravel and fallen leaves. "Well..." Bonnie started, surveying the building with a raised brow, "It's discrete. Far enough from town that no one would think to check it."

Mia crossed her arms, stepping forward. "How have we never checked this place out before? It's the perfect hideout." Her voice was tinged with a note of irony, "A little peace and quiet away from the craziness."

Bonnie gave her a wry look, "The craziness we're always in the middle of. If we ever tried to hide away they'd find us without locator spells."

"Yup." Mia exhaled, her face softening, "So much fun being us, isn't it?" The silence that followed was heavy, as if the two were realising the weight of injustice. The witch turned to her, reached out and laced their fingers together, neither of them spoke but the gesture was enough.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the stalemate, "You know, if I knew you were going to be this damn mopey, I would've told you to leave your sorry asses back in Mystic Falls." They turned sharply to face the figure standing behind them.

Tyler Lockwood.

There he stood a few yards away, arms crossed with a crooked grin on his face. He looked quite a bit leaner, maybe a little rougher than they remembered, the unmistakable tinge of fatigue in his eyes but still he stood there, smiling as if he hadn't seen them in years. "I should've told Matt to come get me. You're ruining a perfectly good reunion."

Mia didn't hesitate, in an instant she sped across the distance and collided into him, throwing her arms around his neck. The hybrid stumbled back a step, caught off guard and then wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning her in a tight circle. "God, I've missed you." He murmured into her shoulder. Bonnie reached them with a wide smile as they left space for her to join the embrace.

The Petrova couldn't help but wish they could stay in that moment forever.

Pulling away from them, the Lockwood took a moment to look at them both, his smile dimming just slightly as he searched their faces, "So...what have I missed?"

"We can fill you in on the way." Mia patted him on the back, already turning back and getting in the back seat of the car, guilt pressed into her like a shadow.

Tyler glanced after her, his brow furrowing, "What's up with her?"

Bonnie exhaled through her nose, steady and quiet, then looked directly in his eye, her voice calm but determined, "We're going to kill Klaus."

A slow smile curved on Tyler's lips, "Fucking finally."

~~~~

On their way back, the car moved steadily along the tree lined road. Inside, the atmosphere was heavy but not uncomfortable, just saturated with the weight of everything left unsaid. Bonnie kept her eyes ahead, hand steady on the wheel while Tyler sat beside her in the passenger seat, gaze flicking between the road and the front mirror at Mia, who sat in the backseat.

Tyler was the first to break the silence, "So...Abby just took off?" His voice was quiet, but the disbelief or rather the disappointment was still present.

Bonnie inhaled slowly and nodded, "Left a letter on the kitchen table. Said she needed to...figure things out...again." She emphasised the last word, her jaw tightening slightly, "Caroline tried to convince her to stay but....can't force a runaway to stick around."

"Sorry Bon." The hybrid's expression softened, reaching over to rub her shoulder, "That sucks. She gave him a small, appreciative smile but said nothing more. A moment passed before he spoke again, his tone tentative now, "How is Care?"

From the backseat, Mia answered before Bonnie could. "She's good. In a bit of a weird place after finding out Ric was the one who killed her dad...it's been a lot." Her fingers fidgeted absently with the necklace around her neck, not the one gifted to her by Stefan. That one had been pronounced as lost, despite her exhaustive search that had taken her to every corner of Mystic Falls. She had combed the town with obsessive thoroughness, unable to rest until she had explored every possibility.

The absence of jewellery around her neck had caused her to take desperate measures. Now lay a delicate silver chain, adorned with an opal pendant that flecked with iridescence.

Tyler's voice cut through the quiet again, a dry note of irony laced through his words, "Let me get this straight. In the time I've been gone...more Mikaelsons showed up, including their mom. She linked them all at a ball, you.."He looked over his shoulder at Mia, "..got tortured. Then most of them skipped town. The oldest one...Finn? His girlfriend showed up. You found out there's not only more white oak but it turns out the Mystic Falls sign was made of it. And now you have, what, a dozen stakes? Oh and Alaric's developed a little Jekyll and Hyde situation?"

The two girls looked at each other, lips pressed upwards, almost finding the absurdity of their lives hilarious before Bonnie nodded, "Pretty much."

"Damn." Tyler muttered, leaning back in his seat, "You guys really don't do boring."

"We can do boring when we're dead." Mia quipped, she shifted in the backseat, stretching her legs as she leaned forward between the front seats. "So..." She began, her voice laced with curiosity and mischief, "What happened to the other hybrid hotties?"

Tyler chuckled, turning his head just slightly toward her, "They weren't quite ready to come back," He replied with a shrug, "Still working on being unsired."

Bonnie cleared her throat at the mention of Zander, truth be told she hadn't given him many thoughts in a while. "But you're unsired?" She asked Tyler, "Like...completely?"

The hybrid breathed out with a nod, "Yup. Hurt like hell and took a heck of a long time. But yeah...I'm unsired. Completely."

Leaning forward in her chair once again, Mia wrapped her arms around him from behind the seat, "We're proud of you, and we missed you...a heck of a lot."

Tyler reached up to cradle her head gently, fingers stroking her hair with familiar affection, "Thanks Em." He murmured, then pulling back slightly, he questioned, "Is Klaus still bothering you?"

Mia let out a breathy laugh, dry and sharp. "Understatement of the fucking century," she muttered, resting her chin on the back of Tyler's seat. "But... in happier news..." Her tone shifted, lightening with a note of sly amusement. "I have been talking to someone."

"Yeah a middle aged man named Terry." Bonnie interrupted, her remark full of judgement." She glanced at Tyler's confused expression before turning her gaze back to the road with a smirk, "She's on a dating app. Fully convinced some stranger isn't catfishing her."

"He's not." Mia insisted, rolling her eyes dramatically, "He's sweet and very, very hot." She reached for her phone, quickly pulling up the profile and then stretched her arm between the seats to show Tyler, a well lit, smoldering photo filled the screen. "Totally sexy yummy or what?"

"Uh...sure." Tyler blinked, reading the name slowly, "Tomas...Alverdano?"

"He's Italian." The Petrova stated, almost proudly. "Owns a museum over there, he's coming to Mystic Falls this week to meet with the historical society and...wants to go on a date."

Bonnie gave a sidelong glance, her smile skeptical but affectionate, still in belief that it was someone from their high school who didn't have the bravery to talk to Mia directly. However, Tyler's amusement faded slightly. A crease formed between his brows and he asked, quieter now, "Would you...move there...if it worked out between you two?"

An endeared pout appeared on Mia's lips at his question, she rested her chin lightly on his shoulder, "I'm not leaving you, you dope."

And it was the truth. She had no intention of abandoning them, the town, the family, the life they had all built together through fire and ruin. However life rarely honoured the quiet dignity of plans. Fate always seemed to have other ideas.

~~~~

The streets of Mystic Falls held a strange stillness that afternoon, too expectant, as thought the town itself was holding its breath. Birds darted across the sky in a synchronised dance, basking in the peace of the day. Mia stood outside the Grill, arms loosely crossed, her eyes following the creatures as they weaved and scattered in the distance.

Their freedom and presumed joy was a sight she found comfort in but also caused a twinge of envy. Beside her, Bonnie watched, not the birds but Mia. The wind caught at the strands of the Petrova's hair, brushing them gently across her cheek, the look of melancholy on her face.

Mia had spent over a week at Abby's house, helping her transition into a species she had never asked to be, nor did she want to. And despite the fact she despised Abby for abandoning Bonnie as a child, the Petrova stayed, tended, tried. Bonnie hadn't asked her to, yet she had done so anyway.

When Abby had inevitably fled again, vanished without so much as a goodbye, the Bennett witch didn't need to ask where Mia's mind went. She could see it in her eyes, the barely restrained fury, the urge to make her pay. But still, she hadn't gone after her, for Bonnie's sake. It often felt like the Petrova was the only one in the world, who saw her, would do anything for her.

Sensing Bonnie's gaze on her, Mia turned her head, "What?" She asked softly, instinctively rubbing at the corner of her mouth in case there was something there. Her brow raised in a mixture of amusement and curiosity, "What's wrong?"

The Bennett tilted her head, an endeared smile tugging at her lips, "I love you."

Mia's face softened, taking hold of Bonnie's hand. "I love you."

Their shared quiet was interrupted by the buzz of Bonnie's phone, she glanced down, reading the text with a slight frown before lifting her gaze again, "Apparently, Alaric's still hurting people even without the ring.." Her voice grew tight with concern, "They want to see if I can do a spell. Something to hold off his darker side."

The Petrova exhaled slowly, tongue poking the inside of her cheek, "What if you just said no?" She asked, not sure herself if it was rhetoric. Bonnie looked up at her, one brow arched, the same way she always did whenever Mia said something she wasn't supposed to say out loud. "I know...I know." The vampire muttered, the defiance in her eyes giving way to reluctant acceptance, "It's fine. We'll save you some food."

Somewhere behind them, inside the Grill, Tyler was greeting Matt, laying low, not ready for Klaus to know he was back in town. Bonnie offered a weary smile, one that barely curved her lips before she turned away. "Bye." She murmured, then walked off, her shoes scuffing lightly against the pavement as she made her way through the square.

Mia took a seat on the bench, resting her chin upon her palm, distracted by the fluttering birds overhead, unaware of the figure that was watching her and now following her friend.

The young witch passed the old pharmacy, her mind already thinking over the spell she might need to craft for Alaric, something to tether the darkness within him without having to destroy what was left of his humanity. She barely had time to register the shift in air pressure before she was shoved backwards.

A sharp grunt escaped her as her back collided with the cold brick wall. She blinked once, disoriented, before her eyes locked onto his.

Klaus.

He stood mere inches from her, his hand gripping the front of her cardigan, his eyes glittering with amusement and something darker, colder. "Hello witch." He greeted with maddening calm, "You've been avoiding me."

Bonnie didn't flinch, nor did she cower, instead lifted her chin. "From what I've heard, that's a regular occurrence for you." She replied coolly, "You should be used to it by now."

The hybrid simply chuckled, an honest, amused sound that vibrated low in his chest, "You sound like Mia." He remarked, finally releasing his hold and stepping back, his expression laced with fond irritation. He tilted his head, tone changing and eyes narrowing slightly, "Now, have you given any thought to our little chat?"

Bonnie's arms folded tightly across her chest, her guard not dropping for a second. A few days prior, Klaus had approached her with a request....no, a veiled demand wrapped in civility, to perform a spell to unlink the Originals. He hadn't threatened her. Not exactly, that was the most unnerving part. "I've thought about it." She admitted, "And it's not that easy. I don't know if I'm strong enough."

Klaus tutted, the sound mocking but smooth. "You need to have more faith in yourself, Bonnie." He extended an arm in gallant invitation. "So...how about that spell?" However she didn't move, her stance remained firmly planted on her sidewalk, the tension growing slightly.

The hybrid sighed dramatically, lowering his arm, "You know, I do have my ways of making one more compliant." He warned with quiet menace, his voice didn't require rising to sound threatening.

"You can't." Bonnie remained steady, speaking calmly, "If you hurt me...Mia would never speak to you again."

His eyes flashed with a flicker of something unreadable, he quickly masked it with a careless shrug, trying to feign indifference, not wanting the notion of the Petrova being able to be used to bother him. "Mia's made her opinion on me perfectly clear. She already despises me...What's another mark on a tally already filled to the brim?"

The witch studied him, speaking matter of factly, "She hated my mom too. A lot. But she still spent an entire week helping her adjust to being a vampire...because she knew it meant a lot to me." She paused, letting that sink in. "I could talk to her for you...get her to give you a chance, if you stop with the whole tyrant act."

Klaus looked away for a moment, remembering. Recalling Mia's eyes, rimmed red with grief and rage, when she believed he had killed Bonnie. How broken she had been, how little it had taken for her to fall apart in that moment, the force behind her strikes as she hit him, wanting him to feel the same pain she had felt inwards.

It was a testament for how fiercely she loved. How far she would go for the people she called her own. His gaze returned back to Bonnie, for once, the sharp edges of his face softened. "Fine." He said at last, voice lower, more measured. "Come with me..."

A pause.

Then, as if it cost him something, "...Please."

Bonnie blinked, caught off guard by the simple civility of it. Then with a deep sigh, she pushed off from the wall and fell into step behind him, wary but calm. Part of her complying to keep him distracted from accidentally running into Tyler.

Back in the square, Tyler emerged from the Mystic Grill, a brown paper bag cradled in one arm and a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Is it bad I missed the garlic bread here so much I started hallucinating it?" He confessed, holding up the bag as if it was sacred treasure.

Mia laughed, her eyes lighting up, "Don't worry, I ate enough for the both of us. Matt had to physically snatch the basket away from me on my last shift." They began walking towards the end of the Square, easily falling back into their old ways as if no time had passed at all.

But before they could even manage to leave, a blur of motion interrupted them. Rebekah appeared in front of them in a blink, her blonde hair catching the light like a halo, though there was nothing angelic about the look in her eyes. Mia instinctively halted mid step, slightly startled. "Hey Bex....You okay?"

Rebekah's gaze didn't waver as she looked straight past Mia, her icy blue eyes fixed on Tyler, "Thought you scarpered." She said, lips pursed.

The Lockwood boy didn't falter, he shifted the bag of food in his hands and met her stare evenly. "I did...then I realised I shouldn't have to stay away from my home because of your dick brother."

The Original tilted her head, mouth tightening, "Same brother I could call and inform about your happy return. He'd have your head in a second." She stepped closer, her voice dripping with warning, "Now scram. I need to talk to Mia."

Mia moved slightly in front of Tyler, letting out a sigh. "Oh come on Bex. He just got back...we have food."

Rebekah's brows lifted at the Petrova's protest, "But...I have a surprise for you." Without giving her a chance to respond, she directed her attention back towards the hybrid. "Well.....go. And don't worry, I won't tell Nik you're back...yet."

Tyler gave her a scowl but didn't argue, knowing that she wasn't bluffing. His jaw clenched as he looked at Mia, the frustration clear in his expression.

The Petrova offered him a small, apologetic smile, "I'll come to your house later...don't eat all the garlic bread." He hesitated, then gave her a subtle nod before walking away, the tension in his shoulders not loosening until he was out of sight. Mia turned back to Rebekah with a sigh, folding her arms, "You didn't need to be so mean to him, he's my friend."

The Mikaelson's expression softened, a teasing yet hopeful smile curling on her lips as she stepped closer, "Am I your best friend?" She asked lightly, then extended her hand, "I got you a present."

Mia's eyes narrowed with deep suspicion, "Seriously? Your last gift ended up being a love bombing ambush from your psycho brother."

Rebekah scoffed, dismissing her friend's valid concern, "I apologised for that and no, trust me, this gift is much more fun." Her eyes flicked to her open hand, waiting for the Petrova to take it, a smile widening once Mia had laced their fingers together. "We're going to have the best time."

~~~~

The heavy doors of the Mikaelson mansion creaked open, the afternoon sun casting long bars of gold across the marble foyer. The pair stepped inside, the Petrova's gaze drifting instinctively through the hallways and sweeping staircase, checking for the absence, or rather more worryingly the presence of a certain hybrid.

Rebekah caught the darting of Mia's eyes, "Don't worry." She smirked, taking off her jacket, "Nik isn't here...I think."

The Petrova raised a brow, "Wasn't even thinking about him." She replied, a tad too quick. Rebekah simply chuckled, pressing her lips upwards with an unconvinced, knowing smile. Mia folded her arms, looking around once more, "So...where's the thing?"

"Oh, right!" Rebekah chirped, as if she'd nearly forgotten the reason they were there. "Come come." She lead Mia down a long corridor, their footsteps echoing faintly against the floor and high ceilings, stopping at a pair of tall doors. "You're going to love this." Her words laced with a gleam of mischief, or perhaps something darker.

Her hand wrapped around the brass handle and she swung it open. Mia stepped forward and froze. The room was beautiful, wide planked floors that shimmered under a gleaming chandelier, french windows casting soft light onto the walls of rich mahogany and gold. But that wasn't what Mia's eyes were fixed on.

Instead her attention was directed to the center of the room. Where, suspended from the ceiling by iron cuffs that bit into his wrists, hung Damon Salvatore.

He was shirtless, his chest smeared with blood, fresh and dried. Bear traps clamped around his ankles and biceps, tearing through skin and muscle with each slight movement. Crimson dripped in slow, rhythmic beads onto the wood beneath him. His head hung how but as soon as he sensed them, he looked up.

Rebekah strolled inside as if she was giving a tour, "I got us a new toy."

Mia, however, stood at the threshold, stunned. Her stomach twisted with a mix of emotions, disbelief, unease but most unnervingly a grim satisfaction.

Damon scowled, his nostrils flared, "Should've known you had something to do with this." He growled, his voice rough and hoarse, "What happened to the whole, I'm not siding with them thing, huh?"

Before the Petrova could answer, a sharp whizzing cut through the air and a dart embedded itself deep into Damon's side. He roared, his body jerking violently as vervain surged through his bloodstream.

"It's a lot more fun when he's not talking." Rebekah quipped, holding another dart between her fingers as if it was a delicate flower. She extended one to Mia, "Whoever hits the most abs wins."

Mia stared at the dart. Then at Damon, who's eyes narrowed with an almost boredom, not believing for a single moment that she would do it. And truth be told, she was thinking the same thing. But then came the memories. Lexi, dead because of him. Her own life at risk on multiple occasions, strings pulled by the older Salvatore, how he would toy with her emotions in order to get what he wanted, how easy cruel words would flow from his lips when he wanted to strike a chord.

Her hand moved before she even processed it, the dart sliced through the air and landed squarely in Damon's chest. He let out another strangled scream, yelling out curses towards her. And this time, when he looked at the Petrova, there was real betrayal behind the fury.

She exhaled, slow and steady, lowering her hand, stood beside her Rebekah was beaming, "Best out of three?" The Mikaelson said brightly. Then they took turns, Rebekah launched another dart, hitting just below Damon's collarbone. Mia's one sinking into the soft muscle just above his knee as his scream cracked the silence of the room like a whip.

"Not bad." Rebekah hummed approvingly. She moved toward a side table and retrieved a glass vial of a light golden liquid, pouring a few drops onto a long silver blade. The blonde walked towards Damon, who was panting, drenched in sweat and blood and ran the flat of the blade down his chest slowly.

Damon growled in pain, his skin burning from the vervain, the metal singing into his nerves. He silently cursed his brother for choosing this day out of all others to get preoccupied in the woods for hours, knowing it would be a substantial amount of time before Stefan even realised he was gone. "Pierce....help me."

Mia's expression hardened, "Fuck you." Without another word, she held her hand out to Rebekah, who passed her the blade with a smirk. The Petrova drew it across Damon's abdomen, he hissed through his teeth, eyes screwed shut. "You should've thought about this..." Mia murmured, voice cold, "...before you decided my pain was convenient for you...before you treated me like I was expendable."

The room was silent save for his laboured breathing and the slow, methodical drip of blood on the floor. Mia stepped slowly around Damon, the knife's top dancing across his skin in a teasing, deliberate path.

Damon winced, jaw clenched tight. Annoyingly, his voice cut through the quiet with his typical defiance, "Bet you think you're real hot right now." He sneered, the corners of his mouth twisting upwards despite the pain, "All you've proved is that you still can't do anything yourself. Always need someone whispering in your ear, winding up your key."

Mia stilled, her expression flickering just briefly, then she leaned in close, voice laced with venom, "Convince yourself you're the victim here....At least I don't leave a trail of dead women in my bed every time I get bored..I'm not a burden to everyone around me, the people I love constantly on edge, worried I'm going to fall off the edge...You're rot Damon...you infect everything you touch, desperate to drag it down into the same wreckage you've made of yourself. I won't let you ruin me."

Before he could respond, she snapped his neck with a sickening crack. His body went limp, the chains groaning softly as his dead weight hung suspended. The Petrova ran her hand through her hair, breathing out deeply, not even noticing Rebekah standing beside her. The Mikaelson handed her a glass of bourbon, "A break." She offered with a sigh, "All this torture does get tiring.

Mia took the glass and joined her on the antique armchairs that overlooked the blood slicked floorboards. She sank into the leather with a soft exhale, letting the sunlight flicker across her face as she sipped, the burn of the bourbon matched the rage still thrumming through her veins. The vampire stared into the amber liquid. "Why'd you do this?" she asked finally.

Rebekah tilted her head, considering. "I have my own reasons for hurting him." She spoke plainly, then added, "But I also despise him for what he did to you, trying to turn you against me...They take advantage of your kindness Mia, not just Damon."

The Petrova gave a soft, humourless sound, not quite a laugh but nor was it a sigh. She didn't want the sympathy, so instead sought to change the subject, "I talked to Bonnie." She started, quiet but firm. "She told me what happened at the ball."

Rebekah stiffened, her jaw locking as her eyes fell to the floor, but Mia pressed on, "Look Bex.." The Petrova turned slightly toward her, voice gentle but unyielding, "Bonnie can be a little...hesitant in the beginning..trust me I know, when I first came to town she didn't immediately warm up to me either...granted no one knew who I was or what I was doing here but....anyways...When Bonnie loves someone, she does it wholly, that's not something you need to be insecure about. And she did like you...I know she did."

"But you've got to stop letting your doubt ruin it," Mia continued. "There's only so many chances you'll get. Because as deeply as Bonnie loves... she protects her people just as fiercely. Going after Matt? That hurt her. A lot."

There was a long pause then Rebekah murmured, almost childlike, "I was just angry...that she brought him... to the ball. I didn't think. Kol was in one of his moods, itching for violence and I..." She swallowed, face etched with regret, "...I pointed him in Matt's direction...I will fix it...I'll talk to her."

Mia rested her head on the Original's shoulder, their silhouettes soft in the shadows, "Please do." She whispered, "You both deserve someone good."

Rebekah's fingers lifted gently to stroke Mia's hair, "So..When are you meeting this gorgeous Italian of yours?" A groan echoed from across the room, the unmistakable sound of Damon stirring back to consciousness.

However, they ignored it, Mia's lips curved, soft and uncertain, "Soon, hopefully. He's so kind and sweet...Like actually sweet. And I want to work..."She rolled her eyes at her own words, "Pathetic huh? A vampire on a dating app."

The blonde scoffed, "Please. Half the vampires I know are still using flip phones, If anything you're ahead of the curve." From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Damon's face. His eyes open now, sharpened calculating so she sat up straighter. "Up already?"

She plucked something from the table and handed it to Mia, a sleek, carved wooden stake. "How about a little round of Stick the Prick."

~~~~

The grand room echoed with breathless laughter, the sunlight casting moving shadows over the floorboards stained in streaks of red. Damon's body hung heavily from his bindings in the center of the room, arms suspended by thick iron chains bolted into the ceiling. His torso was littered with bloodied puncture wounds, each one a sharp, angry imprint from a stake driven with varying degrees of precision.

Mia stood at the far end of the room, a blindfold tied snugly around her eyes, posture steady as Rebekah spun her in place. "Three...two....one.." Rebekah counted with mock ceremony, her fingers releasing the Petrova's shoulders as she stepped back, "Go."

A now dizzy brunette, reached her hands forward cautiously, one clutching the short stake with a pointed tip. She inched toward the center of the room towards Damon, who was barely conscious. His jaw tightened, but he fought to keep his expression neutral, refusing to give them the satisfaction.

But when she finally reached him, feeling for his form and plunging the stake deep into his side, just below the rib, he let out a sharp cry that reverberated against the walls. "One point for me." The Petrova beamed brightly, "Try and beat that."

Another round began, Rebekah spinning on the spot, a flash of blonde hair as she staggered forward and missed slightly, landing her stake in Damon's upper arm. He hissed but said nothing, sweat beading along his brow.

They continued like this, alternating turns, the game twisted and savage in its simplicity, pinpoint cruelty masked behind blind steps and wicked glee. Damon's body became a map of shallow wounds and seeping vervain burns, but his gaze remained fixed on Mia, wanting to pierce into her.

Then, just as Mia landed a particularly brutal stab into his thigh, the door creaked open. A familiar smooth voice broke the rhythm, "Well, look what you've caught." Mia whipped off her blindfold and turned toward the sound, eyes rolling at the sight.

Klaus stood in the doorway, his eyes already on her, locking in like a compass to true north. To her, the last time they'd seen each other was over a week ago but what she didn't know was it was a shorter gap of time for him. The last being from outside Abby Bennett's window, cloaked in darkness, vanishing before she could catch his silhouette.

But now he smiled, "Hello Trouble." He spoke softly, his voice lined with unmistakable affection. "Having fun?" When she didn't answer him, his eyes drifted to Rebekah, "Good to see you took up my suggestion to include her."

The Petrova turned to Rebekah with a raised brow, the blonde had just removed her blindfold and gave Mia a sheepish smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I was going to ask you anyways." She insisted, "He just voiced it first. Men...always trying to take the credit.

Klaus chuckled under his breath, then turned his attention to Damon, his expression shifting into something more clinical. He casually threw an arm around Mia's shoulders, drawing her in as if they were conspirators. "If you're trying to bleed him of vervain..."He started, his lips close to her cheek, tone light but pointed, "...don't you think it would be more efficient to hang him upside down?"

"That's not what we're trying to do." Mia shrugged his arm off with a scoff, "And again...men. Always offering suggestions no one asked for."

The hybrid lifted his hands in faux surrender, grinning. "Well, excuse me. Not like I have any expertise in the matter." He added with an eye roll. Despite herself, Mia let out a soft chuckle. The sound seemed to please him, his smirk widened just slightly, his eyes lingering on her without shame.

Rebekah, clearly unimpressed with his interruption, and drawing Mia's attention away from her, folded her arms and offered a scowl, "You know, why don't you leave us be and go manage your witch?"

Klaus's brow arched with amusement, his lips pressed upwards. "Temper, temper." He taunted mildly. Still, he turned on his heel but just before exiting, looked over his shoulder, directly at Mia. "If you seek refuge from my sister's constant whining.." He said with mock solemnity, "I'll be in the study down the hall."

The Petrova simply looked away with a shake of her head, choosing not to indulge him with a response, he left quietly, the heavy door creaking shut behind him. A loud sigh escaped Rebekah's lips. "Ugh." She muttered, wiping off the blood from her hand. "He's so bloody infuriating. You'd think after a thousand years he'd have developed hobbies that didn't include micromanaging my life."

He did, harassing me. Mia thought to herself, forcing on a smile as Rebekah turned back towards her, reaching for her hand and gently pulling her forward. "Now come on. Enough about Nik. What else can we do with him?"

She gestured to Damon, who had lapsed into weak groaning, his body twitching slightly from the accumulated pain. Rebekah's smile turned wicked again as she picked up a pair of pliers, "Ever wondered how long it takes for a vampire's teeth to grow back."

Mia's lips curled hesitantly, a feigned dark amusement appearing in her eyes. She stepped forward slowly, holding her hand out. "Canine or molars?"

More time had passed, the light in the room dimmed as dusk began to press against the high windows. The chandelier's flame wavered, flickering shadows over Damon's slumped figure, his breathing shallow now, uneven, ragged, as he dangled like a marionette left forgotten. The vervain coursing through his veins had robbed him of strength, not entirely of awareness. His eyes remained open, dull, yet still glaring with a burning edge of defiance.

Mia sat in one of the armchairs, leg crossed over the other, her gaze fixed on him with a strange mix of fulfilment and quease. She exhaled slowly, "Should we let him go now?" Her voice was quiet, as if it had just awoken to what they'd done.

Rebekah, sprawled across the chaise with her hair cascading over the velvet cushions, looked up pointedly, "Uh no. Need I remind you, this is the man who treats you like rubbish at every opportunity and...oh yes...killed your friend."

The words struck like a stone, the Petrova's face faltered, a shadow passing through her expression, although that was a point she had reminded herself of, she didn't appreciate Lexi being used as a method of persuasion, but instead of protesting..."Yeah." She murmured, nodding, "You're right."

After speaking the words, something had hit her. Her eyes narrowed upon recalling something Rebekah had said earlier, words she hadn't acknowledged until now. Her head turned slowly, brows drawing together, "...What witch?"

Rebekah blinked, matching her confusion expression, "What?"

"You told Klaus to go manage his witch." Mia's voice sharpened with sudden clarity, "What witch?" The Mikaelson's face betrayed everything, a flash of hesitation, subtle tightening of her mouth and then silence.

Mia didn't hesitate, rising from her seat and storming towards the door, "Just leave it, Mia." Rebekah called after her, suddenly upright, but she was already gone. She moved quickly down the corridor, heart pounding with each step, anxious on what she would find. Her palm hit the door and pushed it open.

Inside, Bonnie sat in a high backed chair, a spellbook closed on her lap. Her eyes lifted the moment the door opened, they widened in immediate relief.

But before Mia could take a single step forward, Klaus appeared between them in a blur. His frame blocked Bonnie from view and lips curled into that familiar, maddening smirk. "Bored of Rebekah already?"

"You piece of shit." Mia snapped, her voice low, vibrating with fury, "Let her go."

Klaus gave an almost theatrical shrug, "Gladly. I have all I need." He turned slightly, addressing the witch over his shoulder, however his gaze didn't leave Mia. "Thank you, Bonnie. You've been a tremendous help." Bonnie stood slowly, her movements cautious as she stepped toward the door.

Mia made a move to follow her but Klaus's hand shot out and caught her wrist, not roughly but firm. "Hey." He said, his voice quiet. His eyes searched her face, earnest in a way that unsettled her more than any cruel scowl had.

The Bennett witch stopped, glancing back anxiously at her friend but Mia gave her a quick nod, mouthing, I'm fine. Bonnie hesitated only for a moment more, then gave a small smile before slipping out the door without another word.

Mia looked back at Klaus, raising a brow pointedly before glancing down at his hand on her. He released her at once. "I didn't hurt her.." He began, his voice soft, almost defensive. "Truth is...I had every intention of using Jeremy to get her to conform. It was a rather solid plan...But I didn't."

She tilted her head, skeptical, wondering what the point of him saying this even was. "Why not?"

Klaus shrugged faintly, "For you."

For a moment, she simply stared at him. Part of her was baffled that he would expect gratitude for not blackmailing her best friend, as if that counted for decency. As if it was a gift. But then a fraction of her recognised it for what it truly was, a choice. A conscious decision to spare her pain, to ignore his usual impulses just to sate her.

That part of her softened reluctantly, she gave him a small, awkward smile. "Thank...you." Her voice was stiff as if it was a question, feeling unnatural to direct these words to him. Then she turned on her heel before she could catch his endeared beam, the brunette walked away, muttering under her breath, "Thank you? Fucking idiot."

She exited the room, boots echoing faintly against the polished floors. As she reached the main foyer, she paused, eyes darting to Rebekah and Bonnie on the staircase, the pair stuck in a verbal impasse. Instead of intruding Mia slipped through the doors of the mansion and took out her phone to call Caroline.

Back in the Mikaelson estate the tension was palpable, the weight of unspoken words buzzing around near the landing where Bonnie was stood, her posture taut. Rebekah was one step below her, both physically and emotionally. Her chin lifted up just enough to meet the witch's guarded gaze.

The Mikaelson's usual confidence, the smirk she donned as a shield, was absent, replaced with something far more delicate, as if it was waiting for Bonnie to shatter it. The Bennett witch shifted slightly. "I don't know what you want me to say."

Rebekah inhaled, her hands folding in front of her as if she was trying to keep herself still. "You don't have to say anything." She started gently, "Only that...you won't burn the bridge completely." Just as she was told, Bonnie didn't take the opportunity to speak, Rebekah pressed on, her voice quieter now, almost trembling at the edges.

"I'm sorry. I was immature and insecure and...what I did was wrong. I let jealousy get the better of me. Matt is your friend and I should never have hurt him ...or let Kol near him. I was just so...upset when you came to the ball with him. I assumed it was your way of saying you weren't interested and I...lashed out. But it wasn't because I didn't care or because I don't like you. Because I do...an inordinate amount."

Bonnie's brows furrowed, eyes softening even as her walls remained in place. "Why?"

Rebekah blinked, as though surprised by the question. Her lips parted, then curved into the barest smile, "Is it really so hard for you to believe?" She took a slow, deliberate step up until they were level.

Eye to eye.

Equal

"Because you're brilliant. Because your heart is so big it defies logic, you always choose to help even when it hurts. You're loyal even when people don't deserve it...Because you speak with fire but act with grace, I could go on for days." She smiled wider now, the words sounding almost like a prayer, "You are powerful Bonnie Bennett...not just in magic but your entire being."

The Bennett swallowed, her features faltering just for a moment as Rebekah continued, "All I have wanted since I turned was to feel something real. Something human. You make me feel butterflies. Honest to God...if there is such a thing...butterflies that I thought had died long ago. I feel like a teenage girl again, hopeful, stupid in all the ways that matter but only when I'm around you. When I'm thinking of you." Rebekah's voice dropped to a whisper, "Tell me you don't feel it. Tell me and I'll leave you alone, I swear."

There was a moment of silence. Long, tense, aching.

Bonnie looked at her, at the vulnerability, hearing truth behind every word. She cleared her throat, "I don't..." As she spoke those words Rebekah's face began to fall, heart cracking in time until the witch added softly, "I don't think I can say that."

Hope lit the Mikaelson's eyes in an instant but Bonnie wasn't done. Her voice, still calm, took on a note of steel. "You can't hurt any more of my friends."

Rebekah shook her head quickly but firmly, "You have my word." And then, without preamble, she leaned in and kissed her. It was gentle, tentative and trembling with the anxiety of either of them pushing away, however Bonnie didn't. Instead she tilted her head to move in closer.

When they pulled apart, breath shallow and cheeks flushed, Bonnie reached out and laced her fingers through Rebekah's. Wordlessly, the two of them ascended the stairs together, hand in hand.

~~~~

The car was still, parked in the driveway of the Salvatore Boarding House. In the backseat, Caroline lay with her head in Mia's lap, the blonde's expression faraway, eyes fixed on a point beyond the ceiling as the Petrova gently combed her fingers through her golden curls.

"I'm proud of you, Care." Mia praised quietly, voice warm and laced with admiration, "I know it must've been hard for you." The Forbes girl had spent the last few hours with Alaric, offering comfort even after learning that, in his altered, murderous state, he had been the one to kill her father.

"I just...I took a page out of the Mia Pierce book." Caroline replied with a small smile, shifting her head to look up at her. "Tried to see it from his perspective. He couldn't help it...he didn't choose it." There was a strength in her tone, but also fragility. She sat up slowly, brushing her hair behind her ear. Then gently, but directly, she asked. "Did you talk to Klaus about leaving Tyler alone?"

Mia's expression flickered, something between reluctance and shame for not doing what was asked of her, "No...not yet. He barely managed to treat Bonnie with basic decency today. I don't want to push the limit."

She reached out and squeezed Caroline's shoulder, looking at her now frowning face, her thumb brushing lightly along her collarbone. "I think it's best if Ty keeps a low profile for a few days. Just until all this Mikaelson drama is done. But look at it this way..." She smiled softly, "..You get him all to yourself for a while. Make up for lost time."

Caroline's lips curved into a small but genuine smile, "Yeah...You're right. That does sound pretty good." They both stepped out the car, the Forbes girl moved around to the driver's seat while Mia shut the door behind her and walked towards the house.

"Thanks for the ride, Care." She called back over her shoulder. Caroline waved her off with a grin before sliding behind the wheel.

Mia stepped through the heavy oak doors and immediately felt the tension hit her like a wall. Inside the parloud, Damon stood with his arms crossed, eyes locked onto her like a predator as Elena watched anxiously. "No." He snapped, voice sharp and cutting. "Pack your shit and get out. You must be out of your mind if you think you're staying here."

Stefan, still seated, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, calm in the face of Damon's fury. "She's not going anywhere." He stated plainly.

Damon turned to him, incredulous, "Did you take stupid pills this morning? She spent the entire day torturing me!"

"I know what she did." Stefan replied, not rising to the bait, "Doesn't change the fact she's staying here."

The older Salvatore scoffed, stepping forward. "Fine...Then it's me or her."

Elena, who had been sitting quietly until now, stood up with a huff and folded her arms. "Are we seriously doing this?" She asked dryly, brows raised, "What are we, twelve?"

Stefan stood then, slowly, deliberately, and turned to face Damon. His voice was low but unwavering. "Mia's staying."

Damon stared at him for a moment, jaw clenched tight then spoke low, his voice filled with venom and disdain, "We'll see if you're this understanding when you're the one in chains having vervain darts thrown at you." With those words and a final scowl at Mia, he stormed out of the room.

The Gilbert girl shook her head, giving Mia a warm smile and side hug before she followed after Damon, the door clicked behind her and the room fell into an uncertain silence.

Mia lingered near the archway, her back straight, arms loosely on the side, as if bracing herself for a lecture. She could feel Stefan's eyes on her but couldn't quite bring herself to meet them. Instead it was his voice that softened the moment. "Wanna go on a walk?"

Her gaze finally lifted, surprised by the gentleness in his tone, there was no anger. No judgement. She hesitated and gave a small nod, "Sure."

~~~~

The sun was beginning to dip below the tree line as Stefan and Mia walked side by side through the woods. The breeze was cool but gentle, rustling the leaves as if nature itself was gossiping about the scene. The pair's footsteps crunched softly against the forest floor, a peaceful silence hanging between them until Stefan broke it, his tone light.

"Vervain darts?" He asked, a trace of a chuckle in his voice, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I did see the murder bag you brought with you when you first came to town."

Mia sighed, glancing away as a flicker of guilt crossed her features. "The darts were Rebekah's idea. I wasn't...I wasn't even sold on doing it at first but then..." She paused, searching for words, "...it felt like a rage room. Like I was just taking my anger out on an object, just this thing that wasn't alive...Like it didn't matter."

Her voice lowered, as if confessing something darker than she cared to admit out loud. "Do you think that's how they feel...The Mikaelsons, Katherine...Damon. They get so mad that it doesn't matter what...or who they hurt, as long as it makes them feel better?"

Stefan slowed, looking over at her with a quiet understanding, one that only someone who had faced his own demons could offer, "Rage does that." He replied thoughtfully, "It blinds you, takes away your sense of consequence."

His jaw tightened slightly, just enough to betray the memory stirring beneath, "When I was...the...ripper.." The Salvatore didn't miss the twitch of her brow at the word, "...I didn't care who got in the way, it wasn't about them. It was about me, about the emptiness I was trying to fill, the pain I didn't want to feel."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle before softening his voice, "Don't let yourself feel guilty for it, Mia. You're not losing yourself, the fact you're even questioning it speaks for itself. That's more than most can say."

Mia glanced at him, her heart unwilling to let his words in, as if she was undeserving of them. "Why aren't you mad at me for what I did?"

Stefan met her eyes without hesitation, "Because I know what Damon's put you through. And I also know that you've had every opportunity to kill him...but you haven't. Because I asked you not to...And maybe..because you care for him in your own sorta way." He added not wanting to make it seem like he was giving himself all the credit.

He held out his hand as he helped her step over a large log, and then spoke with his voice steady and sincere, "But I don't want you to ever feel like you have to keep things from me. If he does something, anything, you can tell me. I won't defend him. Not where you're concerned."

His vow caught her off guard, Mia blinked at him, as if trying to assess whether he truly meant it, but the look on his face made it evident. Her lips curled ever so slightly, a smile she tried to hide by turning her face away, pretending to watch the trees.

As they walked, their hands brushed once, fingers grazing briefly, then again. Neither of them pulled away. Instead, they continued like that, enjoying the brief intimate touch that connected with every step.

After a few moments Stefan glanced at her, a faint but deliberate smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "I've been thinking...about how it's kind of unfair you don't have your own space. Something that's completely yours." Mia furrowed her brows, turning her head toward him as he continued, "So...I've been working on something."

They stepped into the clearing, one that Mia would visit often to reminisce about her childhood. The familiar oak tree stood at its center but there was something different, catching the Petrova's breath.

A wooden ladder was now affixed to the thick trunk, hand carved and smoothed, blending into the bark as if it was crafted that way by God. Her eyes followed it up, slowly and there, tucked between the heavy branches, was a treehouse. Not a makeshift platform or a child's play structure but a beautifully crafted haven.

Its structure was supported by sturdy beams, the walls panelled with warm, weather treated wood and a small balcony wrapped around one side. It looked like something out of a storybook, serene, nestled safely in the arms of oak. From one of the branches hung a rope swing, its seat crafted from a polished wood and wrapped in winding flowers, wild violets and lavender woven with twine.

Mia didn't speak, words seemed to fail her. Her expression indecipherable, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, all she could find herself doing was staring up at it in silence, breath shallow.

Stefan, growing uncertain at her illegible response, stepped beside her, "You told me once...that Jesse was supposed to build you one, back when you were human. I thought...maybe it was about time you got it."

Her eyes grew glossy, shimmering beneath the soft fading light and Stefan's stomach twisted with the fear that he'd overstepped. "Hey, I.." He started, his voice hurried, "I'm sorry. I...I should've asked. If this changes anything about the tree I can tear it down. I'll fix it I-"

"I love it." Mia whispered, cutting off his worried ramble. She turned to him, her eyes glistening and voice trembling through the smallest of smiles, "I love it."

Then, with sudden urgency, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. Stefan didn't hesitate, his arms wrapped around her waist as she buried her face against his shoulder, "I love it." She repeated, voice muffled against him, "I love it so much. Thank you."

Stefan exhaled quietly, a breath of relief escaping him as he held her closer, his eyes shut as he breathed her in.

~~~~

The inside of the treehouse was bathed in the last amber strands of daylight that filtered through the window and a small lantern Stefan had hung above them gave off a warm, golden glow. Mia sat cross legged on a thick wool blanket, a half empty bottle of bourbon resting between her and Stefan, several empty ones around them.

He sat beside her, one leg bent, the other stretched out, a posture that only unsurfaced when he felt truly at ease. And they were laughing. Neither of them really knew why, but it had snowballed into a breathless, aching kind of laughter, the type that had no root, only warmth.

The Petrova leaned back slightly, her head tilted toward rafters, lips parted in a grin as she wiped away a tear of laughter from beneath her eye. Stefan was chuckling, shoulders shaking faintly, eyes glancing toward her every few seconds as if her just being there made him laugh more.

But gradually, the joy softened and a silence settled between them, not uncomfortably but gently as if a thick, woven blanket had been swathed their world. Stefan noticed the change in Mia's expression before she had even spoken. Her gaze was fixed somewhere beyond the window.

He shifted slightly toward her, his smile fading into quiet concern, the Petrova didn't look at him when she spoke. "Do you ever think about what would've happened if Damon hadn't killed Lexi?"

The question dropped like a stone in still water, and she waited to see if it would follow with gentle ripples or violent waves.

Stefan's brows furrowed, his expression uncertain, though he said nothing. Simply gave her the space to continue. "I mean...I always planned to come here. To meet Elena." Mia looked down at her hands, fingers tracing the edge of the bottle, "But I wouldn't have stayed. I would've just...gone back to Georgia."

He watched her carefully, "Do you ever miss it?"

The brunette took a long breath, thinking, truly contemplating, "Sometimes." She admitted, "But then sometimes I think....everything was always the same. It was good...but it was the same. We'd wake up, wait for the sun to go down. Go out. Drink. Sleep. Then do it all over again."

Her voice was soft, almost wistful, the alcohol pulling out the words before she let them, "I didn't have any drive or responsibilities. Lexi did everything for me...I didn't even need to think." She glanced up, the corner of her mouth pulling slightly downward. "Every time I drank too much, she'd be there to stop me. Everytime I met a guy...or person who wasn't good for me, she'd tell me and I..I didn't always listen but she was always right....She always knew."

Stefan didn't comment or interrupt, instead just listened. Mia reached for her glass again and took another sip then continued with a nervous laugh, "Is it wrong...to say that I prefer who I am now? Even just a little? That maybe...maybe things happen for a reason?"

Her face twisted with regret the second the words left her lips, she set her drink down and pressed her palms to her face, shaking her head. "God I didn't mean.." Her voice cracked with guilt, "I didn't mean I'm glad Lexi's dead, I..."

"Hey." Stefan spoke gently, leaning forward as he gently pulled down one of her hands just enough to see her face, "I get it. I feel the same way about how we became vampires." He admitted, having never spoken these words aloud before, "Yes, I hate Katherine for how she manipulated us, hate my father for how he shot us like cattle. But if it hadn't happened...we wouldn't have turned, we wouldn't be here now." He moved away her other hand so she could see the earnest in his eyes, "I wouldn't know you."

Her features softened and she gave a small, lopsided smile, "You'd be a lot less stressed.

A breath of laughter escaped him, "I'd be a lot less happy."

Mia looked at him, tilting her head as the weight of his words settled somewhere in her chest. The bourbon loosened something in her, what was usually buried beneath wit and cynicism, "Do I make you happy?" She asked, the question bare, fragile. "I mean...do you...feel less stressed. Or worried?"

The Salvatore held her gaze, the quiet between them a delicate thing and then with no hesitation he answered, "Let's just say...We killed an Original today. And right now, I should be terrified the rest of them will come for us." His hand moved on top of hers, "But I'm not."

Her eyes faltered then, but not because of Stefan or anything he'd just said but instead her thoughts drifted elsewhere. To Finn. He had been quiet, melancholy but kind in his own way. Yes, he was misguided, blinded by his loyalty to Esther, jilted by the betrayals of his siblings but he had provided Mia with a comfort through the excruciating pain of Esther's torture.

If they had more time, she could have seen them becoming friends, her heart sank slightly beneath the weight of that loss.

She looked back at Stefan, lips parting to say something but instead a hiccup broke the moment, They both blinked, then shared a soft laugh, the ease returned between them. Mia glanced out the window at the darkened forest, listening in as the animals had begun their nighttime chorus. "We should probably get back..."

"Yeah...probably." Stefan murmured, looking at how her eyes glowed under the warmth of the lantern.

~~~~

"Maybe.." Mia laughed breathlessly, "Maybe one of us should've had less." The gravel of the driveway crunched as Stefan and Mia staggered back towards the house, their arms tangled as Stefan tried to keep her upright, while stopping himself from tilting sideways.

He let out a soft groan of agreement, "I wasn't really in an..." He paused for a second to find his footing, laughing, "..an abstaining mood. Were you?"

Mia shook her head giggling, "I've been celibate for weeks. That's all the abstaining I can handle." The Salvatore tried to ignore the strange, sudden warmth that bloomed in his chest at her words. Something in the way she said it, mischievous, teasing. It stirred something in him that he was too drunk to name.

Just as he opened his mouth to respond, whether it was something equally as cheeky or perhaps a meaningful monologue he hadn't decided yet, a drop of cold water landed on his cheek. Then another, and one more.

Within seconds, the sky opened, and rain fell like a curtain from the heavens. Sheets of it cascaded over them with no warning. The wind blew lightly, swaying the trees and carrying the distinct, earthly scent of petrichor. Mia shrieked, laughing in pure surprise as the downpour drenched her hair and clothes.

Stefan shielded his face instinctively, blinking up at the clouds. "We should get inside." He told her, through the sound of the rainfall, brushing the hair from his eyes. But as he went to walk away he saw that she stayed put.

Mia stood in the middle of the path, the rain soaking through her blouse, her hair darkened and clinging to her neck. Her lips parted in a giddy smile, eyes aimed not at the sky but at him. "Are you okay?" Stefan asked, stepping closer.

She didn't answer right away. Instead, she lifted her hand, raindrops trailing down her arm like silver ribbons and offered it toward him, palm up. "May I have this dance, Mr Salvatore?"

Stefan stared at her, the way the rain glistened on her lashes, how a smile had already reached her lips, as if she knew he wouldn't say no. That he couldn't. He exhaled through a grin, "Why of course, Miss Pierce." The Salvatore took her hand with a mock formality, as if the gravel beneath them was a grand ballroom floor.

The rain battered relentlessly, drenching them both entirely but they paid it no mind. Stefan placed one hand gently on her waist, the other still holding hers and they began to move in a circle, barely coordinated, still tipsy but caught completely up in one another.

Mia laughed, head tilted back as water streamed down her face, the Salvatore couldn't draw his eyes away from her. Her joy was unfiltered, untouched by the pain or past, and for a moment it was as if all of it, her troubles with Damon, the Mikaelson drama, the weight of responsibility, none of it existed.

"I refuse to believe these are the moves that got you picked to be a Miss Mystics escort every year." She teased, her voice breathless.

"Oh yeah?" Stefan slid one arm around her fully and in a sudden motion, lifted her effortlessly, her back pressed to his chest as he spun them around. Mia squealed in surprise, her laughter echoing through the rain soaked trees.

He finally set her down and twirled her outward, their hands still locked before she came stumbling back into his chest. Their bodies collided, rain slick skin pressing together, foreheads nearly touching.

They kept swaying, both his hands coming down to her hips down as she slid hers to rest on his shoulders. Stefan gazed at Mia. who's eyes were closed as she enjoyed the bliss of the moment. A small smile tugged at his lips as his eyes shut too.

But the moment wasn't just theirs.

Unseen to them, standing just beyond the tree line where the clearing met the edge of the woods, a pair of blue eyes locked onto the scene with chilling stillness. The rain slid down a sharp jawline, ignored. Hands clenched into fists. The figure didn't move.

Didn't blink.

Just watched.

And though he said nothing, did nothing, the fury was unmistakable. The quiet, cold kind that you didn't feel until it had coiled around you like a serpent, suffocating all the air from your lungs.

Unfelt, a new storm was brewing, and not from the clouds above.

~~~~

The front door creaked open as Stefan and Mia stumbled inside, dripping wet and still half laughing. Their soaked clothes clung to their skin, shoes squelching against the hardwood floors of the mansion as they moved through the darkened hallway. The storm hit fast, knocking out the power in its wake, the only illumination that came was from flashes of lighting outside and the soft silver glow of the moon spilling in through tall windows.

They climbed the staircase slowly, Mia leaning against the bannister for balance as Stefan trailed a few steps behind, in case she staggered backwards. Their laughter had quieted now, replaced by soft breathless chuckles. As they reached Stefan's bedroom he nudged open the door with his shoulder.

"Imagine.." Mia began, breath hitching as she stepped inside and peeled her wet hair from her neck, "If vampires could catch pneumonia, we'd definitely get it."

Stefan huffed a soft laugh, shutting the door behind them, "Closest thing to us getting sick is a werewolf bite."

"Oh god." The Petrova groaned, slumping slightly as she leaned against his headboard. "Don't remind me. That was the worst feeling in the world." She tugged at the hem of her shirt, "And then I had Klaus trying to make a move on me....on my deathbed." Her laugh that followed was short and sharp, as if even she couldn't quite believe it in hindsight.

The Salvatore's smile faltered at the mention of Klaus, his brows furrowed ever so slightly but he said nothing, the tension in his shoulders didn't go unnoticed. Mia caught it in the glow of the moon but assumed it was because of the wet clothes.

Without a word, he turned his back to her and peeled off his soaked shirt, the fabric made a wet slap against the floor as it hit. Mia's gaze travelled over his muscles, following the lines of his shoulder blades, the way the moonlight caught the ridges of his spine. She blinked quickly and turned away, silently chastising herself under her breath.

She pulled off her own shirt, shivering slightly from the feeling of the wet material sliding off her skin and was now standing just in her jeans and soaked bra. "Can I borrow a shirt?" She asked, her voice quiet in the dark.

"Yeah...yeah of course." Stefan, half in shadow, reached for the draw, grabbing one of his t-shirts and tossed it towards her, it was then his eyes caught her silhouette. The soft curve of her body, lit in flashes by the moon. It was almost as if he was in a trance until he jerked his head away, cursing himself in his head, jaw tightening.

A few seconds of silence passed. Just the soft hum of rain against the windows, and the distant growl of thunder. Then he felt it. Her fingers brushing against the back of his palm, gentle but present. Stefan turned to look at her, she was illuminated in silver, hair damp, eyes tired but bright. The sight of her rendered him briefly still. "It's really dark." She whispered without knowing why.

Stefan turned to face her, their proximity closer than he realised, and he could feel the warmth of her breath against his cheek. His voice was low when he answered, almost playful, almost not. "You scared?"

"No." She tilted her head slightly, eyes meeting his, "Just...trying to find you."

Then without warning, a streak of lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the room in a flash of blinding white. A violent crack of thunder followed instantly. Mia flinched, instinctively clutching his arm, her body stiffened just for a moment before she exhaled and laughed, breathless and nervous, "God, that was loud."

Stefan laughed with her, his hand on the small of her back, steadying her, he wasn't even sure how it got there but she didn't pull away. Neither of them did.

They stood still in the quiet, the storm briefly forgotten as they stared at one another in the flickering light of the window, until the Salvatore asked, "You hungry?"

~~~~

The kitchen was a patchwork of shadow and golden glow, the storm outside having long since stolen the electricity. Candlelight flickered across every surface, the flames wavered in antique holders, repurposed jars, even a hollowed teacup or two. Stefan had taken over candle duty after Mia's enthusiastic but disastrous attempt resulted in a dishcloth catching fire.

He had extinguished it with a series of frantic whacks, cursing under his breath, before flinging it into the sink with smoldering finality. She had doubled over laughing. He had simply looked at her, exasperated and amused.

Stefan now stood bare chested at the stove, a dish towel slung over his shoulder as he flipped a grilled cheese with a butter coated spatula. His brow was furrowed in concentration, though the occasional curve of a smile tugged at his mouth every time Mia's voice floated toward him from across the room.

The Petrova sat on a tall stool at the kitchen island, legs bare except for the fluffy socks that hugged her calves to the knee. Her skin was warm against the chilled wood of the stool beneath her, the hem of Stefan's T-shirt brushing her thighs. It was oversized on her, falling lopsided over one shoulder. Her voice was gentle, words distracted, as though her thoughts lingered elsewhere but spilled out anyway.

"I still can't believe he did it," she murmured, half to herself, swirling the amber liquid. "Tyler. He actually unsired himself. That's..." she let out a soft, almost breathless laugh, shaking her head. "It's amazing. I'm... so proud of him."

The Salvatore glanced over his shoulder at her, eyes fond. "You're a good friend to him.." He turned back to the pan as he spoke, "Before you showed up, Tyler was just this angry kid, always in a fight with someone...even himself.. You bring out the best in him." He let the words settle, their truth hanging in the air.

Then as the sandwich hissed behind him, he turned off the burner and approached, setting the two plates on the worktop in front of her. His movements were slow, deliberate. Candlelight caught on his shoulders, the soft dip of his collarbone, an ease in his posture that made her feel safe.

He stopped in front of her stool, close enough for the fluff of her socks to brush against his pants. "You bring out the best in everyone, Mia." Their eyes met, gazes locking, faces close, there was no teasing smile or quick deflection, just silence and truth, stretching between them like a taut thread.

Then, Stefan leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. It was a gesture of quiet intimacy, of closeness without expectation. Their breath was shared space now, warm and shallow. Mia's lower lip twitched as if reaching, just a small movement.

But it was all he needed.

He moved forward, she tilted her head at the same moment. And then his lips brushed hers, tentative, questioning, and when she didn't pull away, the kiss deepened, their mouths moving in sync with an ease that felt lived in, as though the shape of it had always been known.

It wasn't urgent nor was it rushed. It was slow and purposeful, for two heads that were constantly racing with thoughts, their minds were now completely still. It didn't feel like work, rather that relief your muscles feel once you stop straining them. It felt as though their lungs had cleared, as if they had been silently suffocating for years.

His hands moved behind her, braced against the counter, hers rested gently on the edge of her stool, anchoring herself. Stefan let out a soft sigh at the feeling of her lips caressing his, the feeling more intoxicating than the rush blood gave him.

When they finally parted, it wasn't abrupt. It was a breath, a shared, gentle pause. Their foreheads stayed pressed together, eyes closed, both unwilling to move too far away.

Stefan opened his eyes first, his gaze drifting down to her mouth, as though unsure if he'd dreamed it. He closed his eyes once more, lips parted, about to speak....

Then the stool beneath Mia shifted with a sharp scrape. She slipped, her balance faltering. In an instant, the legs of the stool caught unevenly on the floor and her body tumbled backward. She hit the ground with a thud, a sharp crack as her head struck the floor.

The Salvatore hadn't even had a chance to react, it happened all so quickly. His heart lurched as he rushed to her side. She was breathing, just unconscious.

Still, he didn't hesitate, he scooped her into his arms and held her delicately as thought she would break. Her head rested against his shoulder, soft breaths brushing against his neck as he took her upstairs. Once in her bedroom, he laid her down gently on the bed, drawing the covers over her.

He should have left then, his mind telling his legs to move yet they stayed firmly in place. His eyes lingered on her face, the peaceful stillness of her features in rest, the rise and fall of her chest beneath the fabric of his shirt. Her damp hair had begun to curl, splayed over her pillow like ink bleeding on parchment.

Instead, he decided to sit just for a moment, just to make sure she was alright. And then the mattress pulled him down beside her, the pillow locked his head in place, it was entirely their doing. His body surrendered before his mind caught up and before he could stop it, his eyes drifted closed, the last thing he saw was Mia.

~~~~

Morning crept into the Salvatore house like a slow tide, golden light seeping through the curtains of Mia's bedroom. The Petrova lay in her bed, eyes fixated on the Salvatore beside her, desperately trying to piece together the events of the previous night.

She remembered the tree house, the overwhelming warmth that flooded her chest when she saw it, surprised that he had not only remembered that story but had sought to make it come true. Mia could recall dancing in the rain, how carefree he looked, how beautiful Stefan was when he smiled. She remembered his back, that she remembered vividly and could sketch it with great detail if asked.

It was the events that occurred in the kitchen that seemed to blur, Stefan had made her a grilled cheese, then they ate it. Did they? Part of her could recall the taste but an image of the sandwiches left untouched on their plates flashed in her mind. Stefan stood close to her at one point and then they...hugged?

Yes, they hugged, that was all. Mia rubbed her palms to her eyes and groaned softly with frustration before her mind had created a memory that hadn't even occurred and buried the one that had. All they did was hug, then she embarrassingly fell and hit her head.

Before her brain had a chance to push forth the truth, Stefan stirred, his gaze found hers, still hazy with sleep but warm. A slow stretch pulled across his form as he repositioned his arm behind his head, his voice low, gravelled from rest. "Morning."

He turned to face her fully, his expression soft. His eyes roamed her features for a moment, lingering at her hair, now dried from the storm but curled tightly, wild and soft against her cheekbones. His hand moved instinctively. Fingertips brushed a strand, twirling it once, gently, as if testing whether the moment was still real.

But Mia let out a groan, pulling the blanket over her face. "Oh God," she muttered. "Nothing happened last night, okay?"

Stefan's hand froze, the strand of hair slipping from his fingers as his expression faltered, "Which part?" He asked, sounding more cautious than he had meant to.

She peeked out from under the covers, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "All of it," she said, muffled, but firm. "The stool, the head-bang, the...ugh...it's just so embarrassing. We never bring it up again. Ever."

Silence fell between them, Stefan stared at her, something flickering behind his eyes. Whether it was hurt or disgust with himself for making her uncomfortable, he didn't know. Because to him she wasn't just talking about the fall. All of it. She said, which in his mind included the way their lips had met, not by accident, not by drunken impulse but with intention. With meaning and breathless, wordless understanding.

And now she was intent on forgetting it. He gave a slow nod, his expression unreadable at first but behind his eyes, something dimmed. Disappointment flickered across his features, but he was quick to mask it with a small, practiced smile. The kind he used when things pained more than he cared to admit. "Right.." He spoke softly, "Of course."

Stefan sat up, carefully pulling himself from beneath the covers, his movements unhurried but distant now. "I should get out there," he added, not meeting her eyes. "Need to hunt." He stood, running a hand through his hair, and moved toward the door without looking back.

But as he stepped out of the room, his mind was a quiet storm, thoughts colliding, feelings he couldn't quite name pressing heavy against his chest. An overwhelming wave of self disdain had crashed through him. And he couldn't stop asking himself why it mattered at all.

Why it stung more than it should.

~~~~

The Grill was buzzing with its usual weekend warmth, low music hummed from the speakers drowned out by the laughter that trickled through clinking glasses. By the far end of the bar, seated with a posture far too poised to be comfortable was Mia.

Her hair was curled softly, framing her face in a way that felt deliberately effortless and her dress, midnight blue, cinched at the waist, the opal pendant hanging from her neck complimenting the fabric. Everything about her had drawn second glances from passersby, compliments from random men but she paid them no mind.

Because it wasn't them she was dressed for. A soft clinked as she tapped her ring against the rim of her repeatedly emptied glass, her gaze flickered to the door again. Still no sign of her mysterious Romeo.

Matt approached her from behind the bar, holding another glass of bourbon in one hand, "Still not here?" He asked gently, setting the drink in front of her.

The Petrova blinked, then offered a faint smile. "There's traffic." She murmured, more to herself than him, she picked up the glass and turned it slowly in her fingers. "Is it weird that I'm nervous? Like...properly nervous? I feel so stupid but I.." She exhaled, brushing her hair behind her ear." ....I really want something good. Just one good thing."

The Donovan boy leaned forward on his elbows and studied her face for a moment. The hope in her voice, a shimmer of vulnerability behind her composure, he smiled softly, "You look beautiful."

Mia's gaze lifted to meet his, surprised by the sincerity of his voice, but it helped to ease the nerves bubbling within her. Her features warmed as she smiled, small but grateful. "Thank you, Matty." Then, as he was called away by another table, her smile faded slowly.

Minutes passed, then more. The glass had been emptied and refilled by Matt without question. The phone in her purse remained stubbornly still. No text. No excuse. No apology.

An hour later, still she sat there, motionless save for the occasional sip as the world continued around her. Tables filled with couples, hands held, heads leaned close, shared stories and inside jokes. Her friends were elsewhere living their lives, but Mia.

She sat alone. A figure carved out of stillness, dressed up for a tale that would never begin. A character arriving to her own love story that hadn't even been written yet, nor was there a plan to. Her throat tightened as she stared blankly ahead.

Every time she reached for something that she felt could be hers, it slipped away. As if she were cursed to remain just outside the edge of happiness, watching frozen while everyone else moved forward.

The stool beside her shifted, scraping against the floor. "Rough night?" Came Klaus's voice, smoothed but laced with something gentler.

Mia didn't turn her head, her eyes remained trained on her glass. "He didn't show up.."She said softly. Her voice didn't crack, but only because she was holding it still, like the drink pressed between her shaking fingers. "He said he'd be here."

Klaus studied her profile, the way her eyes were glazed not from the drink but disappointment. The effort in her makeup, the subtle shimmer on her skin, the way her lips had been painted with hope. She turned slightly toward him now, though her gaze didn't lift. "How'd you know I was here?" The brunette asked, bitterness curling beneath the surface, "You come to laugh at me?"

The hybrid tilted his head, as if studying her afresh, "You look stunning." He said plainly, the words spoken like a vow he would defend with his life.

Mia let out a small, breathy laugh, one heavy with shame and too much knowing, "I did it for him..." She confessed, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. "I wanted him to like me..It sounds pathetic, I know but he...he said..well he texted all the right things. I felt like he saw me. And now I...I can't even go home because they'll laugh at me." Her lips curved downwards, "Caroline and Damon...God Elena'll probably pity me."

She threw back the rest of her drink, numb to the burn by this point. Klaus's expression didn't waver, he leaned closer, voice low and steady. "No one who treats you like that is deserving of you. Not your time....your laughter, not even the hurt they leave behind."

"You are the kind of woman people spend centuries trying to find." The hybrid continued, his voice silk and steel all at once, "And if this bastard is too blind or foolish to see it, that's not a reflection of your worth...it's a damning indictment of his own idiocy, of all their stupidity. Let them walk away. Let them lose you...Trust me Sweetheart....One day they'll choke on the memory of what they let go."

He placed his hand on hers and quietly like an oath he said, "You deserve a love that doesn't flinch. A love that plants itself at your side and stays no matter what...And if the world hasn't given it to you yet Trouble..."His eyes locked with hers, "Then it has a debt it still owes you."

Mia didn't speak for a moment, her throat ached and she could feel the sting of tears somewhere deep, but she refused to let them fall. Instead she pulled her hand away from his and held her second glass, murmuring, "You know...I almost got married once."

Klaus's gaze sharpened at the statement as she continued, "Sebastian.." She began with a wistful breath, "I loved him so much...Thought he was the one. God, I knew it. He made me believe in it again, in forever."

The hybrid's posture straightened, Mia kept going, her voice slow but laced with years of hidden pain. "He had another one...a fiancee. He married her, in the same place we were supposed to get married." She looked up at Klaus now, her eyes glassy, "I watched it happen, I stood by the door and watched him say our vows to someone else...as if I didn't exist."

Something cold and dangerous flickered in Klaus's eyes, rage curled at the edges of his restraint. How could anyone look at Mia and see anything less than the universe in her? The very idea that someone had once held her heart then discarded it...that they'd touched her love, loyalty, her devotion and tossed it aside without a care, it boiled something ancient and furious inside him.

And worse, it echoed what he'd done himself ninety years ago. If he had the name, the face, any more detail...he would've found the man, made him pay for causing even a fraction of hurt to the Petrova, instead he remained beside her, his presence a steady contrast to the noise around them.

She stared ahead for a long moment, then without turning her head, asked quietly, "Have you ever wanted to marry anyone?"

Klaus didn't hesitate, his voice was low but certain, "Yes."

Mia's eyes shifted to him, a glimmer of understanding, "Your girlfriend from the 20s.." The twitch of shock in the hybrid's expression was small, barely perceptible but the drop in his stomach was anything but.

The Petrova sat up slightly, resting her elbow on the bar as she continued, "Rebekah and Stefan told me about her. How in love you were with her...how you had to leave her behind when Mikael came."

Klaus looked down then, a slight relief she hadn't found out the truth by herself, the glass between his fingers grew momentarily forgotten as memory gripped him and his voice, when it returned, carried the weight of decades. "Without a doubt...one of my greatest regrets." He let out a breath through his nose, eyes unfocused, "I was trying to protect her...I thought I was doing the right thing...but."

Mia finished his sentence for him softly, "You lost her." She rested her chin upon her palm, "She's married now, Rebekah told me....You haven't tried to find her again?"

Klaus froze. He cursed fate, which was a regular occurrence, for its ruthless cruelty. That the woman he had burned for, ached for was now seated beside him, her eyes searching his, speaking as though she was someone else entirely. She didn't remember, she didn't know. And yet she asked about herself with such tender curiosity, it nearly unmade him.

His throat tightened as he spoke slowly, "I loved her...More than I thought myself capable of. She was unlike anyone I'd ever met...she saw right through me..not the legend, the tyrant...the villain they all whisper about in fear...just me. And she didn't flinch, not once." He turned his head now, meeting Mia's gaze fully. "I wanted to marry her."

The Petrova's brow furrowed faintly, lips pouted slightly as she absorbed that, "Did you tell her that?" Klaus shook his head once, no hesitation or excuses, just the cold truth, to which Mia tilted her head, a small smile on her lips, "Did you expect her to read your mind?"

The silence between them was deafening, heavy with the history one was ignorant to. She reached for her drink again, taking a longer sip and stared down into the amber liquid. "I think..." She began slowly, "That if you're truly meant to be...you'll find your way back to each other....And it'll be as if no time had passed at all."

Klaus looked at her as if she'd just echoed the very hope he had buried ninety years ago, "I'm afraid it's a lot more complicated than that." He responded, downing his drink.

Mia shifted closer without realising and placed her hand on his, looking at him with a raw, open eyed sadness. "Love always is.." She whispered, "But that doesn't mean you stop believing in it. You don't get to give up just because it hurts or it's hard or complicated. If love was always easy...it wouldn't be worth anything at all, no one would work for it...."

"I hope you find her one day and I hope...she loves you back, even if it takes centuries." Then quieter still, her voice fraying like worn lace, "That's the beauty of an eternity...You have forever."

Klaus's heart stilled, a tear pricked at his eye as he heard the same sentiment she had made to him when they parted ways. Not catching his expression, a sigh slipped from her lips and she dropped her forehead to rest on her folded arms, "God, I'm pathetic." She murmured into the crook of her arm, "Here I am here, lecturing you about love when I've been stood up by a cunt I've never even met."

Her words were growing slower, more mumbled, drenched in bourbon and aching. Klaus's gaze remained on her, the way her fingers had slackened around the glass, how her shoulders had curved in defeat. Deep down she was still that same girl who would drink abundantly then let her lips take control of her secrets.

She turned her head, resting her cheek upon her arm as her voice came again, barely audible, "Why do you always come back to me...even when I tell you not to?"

Klaus's reply was immediate, quiet but unshakable, "I promised I would." He turned his head forward, staring at the wall ahead as he braced himself against what he knew had to come next. His fingers curled slightly against the edge of the bar. "Mia..." He began, "I have to tell you something."

He faced back to her, but she was asleep. Her breathing was soft and even, lips parted in a peaceful sigh. In that moment she looked untouched by sorrow, unburdened by the troubles that tethered her to him. His features softened and he reached out slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, letting his fingers graze the curve of her cheek.

She was a sensation, his sensation. A perfect muse.

Klaus simply watched her, then he stood, pulling money from his pocket and placing it gently on the bar, more than enough to cover her many drinks. He picked up her jacket, her small purse, careful not to wake her.

Matt, who had been watching from across the room, approached, "Hey umm.." He began, knowing that the hybrid could simply rip his heart out for interrupting, "Mia would be embarrassed if she knew she was carried out in front of everyone...you can take the back way."

Klaus nodded once, an uncharacteristic gleam of gratitude flickered briefly in his eyes. He hooked an arm under her leg, carefully lifting her into his arms. She stirred slightly in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent before her face nuzzled into the curve of his neck.

His breath caught at the feeling of her skin against his and he carried her through the back of the Grill, holding the woman who had once been his forever but was now caught between memories and hatred.

~~~~

Morning light slipped through the sheer curtains in stripes, casting a glow upon Mia's face. She opened her eyes slowly, brows drawing together in confusion as she registered her surroundings. A chandelier hung delicately above, its crystal pendants catching the early sun. The walls were dressed in rich tones, punctuated with gold accents.

She recognised it instantly from the night of the ball. Klaus's bedroom.

Her chest tightened, breath catching as she pushed herself up abruptly, the heavy duvet slipping from her shoulders. Panic bloomed, she was still in the same dress from last night, creased, the strap slightly twisted on her shoulder as if it had been pulled up in a rush.

Her mind raced to fill the void of memory and fragments came back in flashes. She was waiting for Tomas, he didn't show up. Klaus did, Klaus was there for her, he was at the bar..the way he looked at her, the warmth in his voice, the strange comfort of his presence. And then...nothing.

Mia sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her temples as her pulse thudded in her ears. What the fuck happened? Beside her, neatly placed, hung a grey henley and a pair of jeans, the jeans were most likely Rebekah's but the top was too large to belong to her. She stared at the clothes for a moment, her dress suddenly becoming suffocating.

A few minutes later, she walked down the staircase, retracing her path from the day of the ball. The silence of the house made each step echoed then when she reached the living room, she stopped.

Klaus was seated in front of the fireplace, sketchbook in hand, pencil gliding fluidly across the page. His back was straight, shoulders relaxed, and he hadn't yet noticed her. There was a peacefulness to him that caused him to look younger, unburdened.

Mia cleared her throat, catching his attention, he looked up at her and smiled, "Good morning." He greeted softly. His eyes swept over her, how she looked in his henley, the way the sleeves engulfed her hands, her hair tousled from sleep, it stirred something within, something possessive.

The Petrova's gaze darted around the room then settled on him, confusion evident, "How...how'd I get here?"

"You were upset last night." Klaus replied gently, setting down his pencil. "Embarrassed...you said you didn't want to go home so I brought you here." He rose from his chair, moving to the bar cart, "Would you like some breakfast? Coffee?"

Mia didn't answer, instead she crossed her arms, brows furrowed, "Why was I in your bed?" She asked, her voice tight. "Y...you didn't...you didn't do anything right?"

Klaus stopped mid motion, turning to face her fully, his expression shifted, the warmth draining from his eyes, "You really think so low of me?"

She held his gaze, the echo of distrust laced into her eyes, "Would you blame me?"

The words hung in the space between them, like missiles aimed at both sides, waiting for either of them to hit launch. Klaus swallowed, his jaw flexing, "I slept in Kol's room, I thought you would be comfier in my room that's all so whatever you're alluding...you couldn't be more wrong...That's one thing you'll never have to worry about with me."

"Right..." Mia's laugh was sharp and mocking, "The patron saint Klaus Mikaelson. He'll terrorize teenagers and slaughter villages but sexual assault is where he draws the moral line."

Klaus said nothing for a moment, instead just looked at her. A memory flickered, her in another lifetime, shattered and bloodied in their old apartment, her voice hoarse and body stiff with shock. The rage he'd felt then had never truly left him. "I wouldn't do that." The conviction in his voice was different now, not angry, not defensive. Just... aching. As if the idea itself wounded him.

"The perfect gentleman." She mused sarcastically and turned on her heel to leave, but she stopped halfway to the door, her shoulders stiffened. Two voices warred in her mind, one angry, offended.

The other, persuading and gentle. He hadn't left her in the bar for anyone to take advantage, he didn't call Damon to drag her out in drunken shame. He hadn't done anything but carry her to his home, tuck her into bed and let her sleep in safety.

Despite her stubborn side yelling at her not to, she turned back around, her voice tentative, "Thank you..." She said quietly, "Really....you didn't have to do that."

Klaus's features eased, her sincerity was rare and he treasured it, giving a small nod as the corner of his mouth tugged into a faint smile, "You're welcome." He murmured. She gave a small, grateful smile in return as something unspoken passed between them, a brief truce.

As much as he wanted to, he didn't push her to stay, "Have a good day Sweetheart." He said gently, she turned and left, her steps hurried as if she didn't want to be caught there.

Once the front door closed, Klaus looked down at the open sketchbook resting on the table, and stared endearingly at the drawing. Mia, the very picture of innocence, fast asleep in his bed, her plump lips parted. He reached out, fingers tracing lightly over the outline of her cheek on the page. "I love you."

A sudden clatter of footsteps broke his peace, Klaus looked up just in time to see Bonnie, hair a mess, clothes creased and clearly thrown on in a hurry, racing down the stairs and hurrying out the door without a word.

He blinked once then lifted his gaze to a proud looking Rebekah, standing at the top of the stairs, watching the witch leave from the window. "Idiots." He muttered under his breath, turning back to his sketch as the door slammed shut

~~~~

A the Salvatore house, the quiet of the late morning was interrupted only by the steady ticking of an antique grandfather clock. Stefan sat in an armchair near the fireplace, elbow resting on the armrest as his thumb gently tapped against his lip, his green eyes unfocussed and distant.

All he could find himself able to do was think about her. About the two of them dancing in the rain, how happy she looked in the kitchen, how soft her lips were as they kissed. How he wanted to do it again, but she simply desired to brush it away and move on.

The previous night she had smiled nervously before leaving for her date, she smoothed out her dress and fidgeted with her hair in the mirror, then glanced at him as if she was searching for something, approval perhaps, or reassurance. And always he'd given it with a tight smile, similar to the twisted coil in his stomach.

"Well.."Damon drawled as he entered, a smirk plastered on his face as he poured himself a drink, "She go on her date then?"

Stefan barely acknowledged him, simply gave him a slow nod until he had caught sight of his brother's menacing expression, "What?"

The blue eyed Salvatore took a long sip and leaned against the door way, watching his brother with a certain amused glint. "She ever tell you the name of the guy she was supposed to be meeting?"

Stefan shook his head once again, brows knitting together, which of course did nothing but fuel the joy Damon was feeling. He chuckled darkly, eyes gleaming with devilish satisfaction, "Tomas Alverdano."

T-o-m-a-s   A-l-v-e-r-d-a-n-o
D-a-m-o-n  S-a-l-v-a-t-o-r-e

There was a moment of stunned silence, Stefan slowly straightened, staring at him as if trying to process it all, "You?" He said finally, his voice sharp with disbelief, "Why would you do that?"

Damon gave a casual shrug as if it were a minor inconvenience, "Oh come on. She helped Barbie Bitch torture me. Granted, I started the whole Tomas charade before that but, by the time it was all lined up, it was too good to pass up." He smirked, unrepentant. "How do you hurt a hopeless romantic? Make them think no one wants them."

Stefan rose from his chair, the wood scraping back slightly on the floorboards, "You do realise Damon, after everything you've done to her, you're lucky that was the worst she did."

The older Salvatore raised his brows with threat. "Oh believe me. I could've done much worse back."

That was it.

With a quick fluid movement, Stefan stepped forward and punched Damon square in the jaw, causing his brother to stagger back, glass falling to the floor and shattering into crystal shards. "I want you out of here. Pack your stuff and go." He ordered through clenched teeth, leaving no room for argument.

He didn't wait for a reply, simply stormed out the house, his heart pounding but not just from rage but something deeper, something rising that he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge until now.

The trees whispered above him as he moved through the woods, branches swaying gently in the breeze. He made his way to the clearing, to the oak tree, the treehouse he had spent over a week perfecting. Once he approached it, his eyes were drawn to the carvings etched into the bark of the tree, Mia's and Jesse's.

But it was what was below them that caused his breath to hitch.

SS

Stefan Salvatore

Carved with the same hand, Mia's hand. It wasn't just an initial, it was her choosing to tie him to something that mattered deeply to her. He reached out, fingers tracing over her name, the grooves rough beneath his touch. As he stood there, surrounded by nature and silence, it hit him, not in a rush, but as a slow creeping truth he'd been denying for far too long, out of fear of losing her friendship.

It had always been her.

From the twenties, when they'd dance in the club, when they sat next to each other and shared strawberries, to when they bumped into each other in the hallway of Mystic Falls High School. Fate had placed them on a crooked path that always led back to each other. His mind raced with the thoughts of it.

How it felt to know someone completely, and have your soul bared to them just as transparent. To feel a rush of warmth everytime you gazed into eyes that stared back with just as much endearment. To feel her touch, goosebumps rising with every brush as neither of you had the bravery to move closer, or the strength to pull away

How she listened without judgment, how she spoke with conviction and vulnerability. The way her voice calmed him in a way few things could. What it felt like to hold her in his arms, hands on her back, her head tucked under his chin. Every touch would linger long after it ended.

And Stefan remembered her words. Stories she told as if they didn't matter, but they did. They were windows into her soul, and he had listened to every one like it was sacred. To see her smile, really smile, was to know light itself. And in her laughter, he felt as though he had never felt sorrow before. Stefan knew what it meant to be completely and truly enamoured. He smiled now, alone in the forest, the truth taking root.

Yes

Stefan Salvatore was in love with Mia Pierce.

A/N: HELLO MY DARLINGS. I hope you enjoyed that chapter, ngl I was smiling insanely the entire time I was writing it.
So how we feeling??? I think I fed Niklias and Stefias this chapter
What was your favourite part?

PLEASE REMEMBER TO VOTE. Even if youre a silent reader (idk why u would be) a vote is a good way to say thanks for the chapter. 

Me: "I hate miscommunication"

Also me adding the most into this fic
Anyone who knows me knows that Love Rosie is one of my favourite movies and ofc i would give Stefia some Alex and Rosie coded moments.

I should probably address Mias alcoholism problem bc she seriously does have a problem but C'est la vie...DRINK RESPONSIBLY GUYS AND LEGALLY

Sorry for bringing Tyler back and barely mentioning him, he will be in the next chapter.
ANDDDDDD before yall say Stefan is slow af...yes he is..but thats only because he had internalized guilt for even feeling those things towards Mia and deep deep denial that buried it, it was always shown that he felt something.

Btw theres only 2 chapters left of s3, thank god bc i thought we would never finish this season, tbh ive skipped sm episodes too bc why is this show so boring sometimes

Eneeways next chapter will be....enlightening. *cue evil laugh* I love a good decade dance....

BYEEEEE❤️

Published: 29th April 2025 (unedited, so dont point out mistakes)