anything? I offer you blood, you decline—I offer you food, you decline—coffee, too—don't tell me you're going to decline your favorite type of blood."

"I just..." Aurelia formed a bubble with her cheeks. "Don't feel like it." The soreness in her body seemed to melt away for only a moment, right where she felt him place his palm on her cheek, gently turning her head to face him. "I can't—"

"You can't drink the one thing that's designed to keep you alive and healthy?" Stefan was less than impressed by Aurelia's attempt to force another barrier between the two of them. "Really?"

"Something's been telling me... that nothing good will come out of it."

"So, what—you give up because you think Bonnie's Expression will drain you to death? We haven't found a solution for it yet, but that doesn't mean there isn't one, 'Relia." He could be grateful, at the very least, that it seemed like she was unwilling to force an actual barrier. Her honesty, he was learning all over again, was a gift she bestowed to few in the world.

"I know—I don't want to think about it now." She muttered, eyes refusing to meet his now—despite her instinct inching her further into his cradle on her cheek. "Even then, something's telling me not to have any..."

"Aurelia..." Hand trailing ever so gently to the underside of her chin, Stefan's touch only left a comfortable warmth in its path. "Look at me." When she shook her head, he began to plead— "Please."

With a soft exhale, she looked up at him—and Stefan could've sworn he felt his stomach take a backflip at the manner in which she looked in his eyes. Her own, of course, had always been like the riptides, the waves, the swirling vast oceans—the oceans that he'd once have done just about anything to be lost in. Those oceans that he wanted to engulf him now. "Stefan..." When she breathed out his name, his gaze fell away, instead focusing on the darkened skin beneath her enchanting stare, which seemed more present than ever on her slowly blanching visage.

"Hear me out, okay?" His voice was gentle, so not to scare her away, so not to deter her from a way to retain her strength and health. "If this doesn't make you feel better—you have the right to chide me all you want for it."

"...since you're so insistent..." Her expression remained pessimistic, though more determined than before, as he felt her tug at the blood bag in his hands. "I guess I will."

"Thank you." He pushed out, chest falling with his breath out as he watched her twist open the cap of the bag. "I don't want to push you to finish the whole thing—"

"It's fine." When she spared him a brief, smiling glance, she revealed her reddening eyes, her glowing irises, and her growing fangs when her lips parted—and he could only wonder how hungry she would've had to be, and how on Earth she'd been able to resist blood for this long. "I don't want you to feel those temptations any longer than you need to."

And even when she was allowing her hunger to take her, she could still find space to ensure that she did all she could to prevent his own addiction from taking him.

With a bated breath, she pressed her lips around the opening of the bag, fingers squeezing to push the blood past her teeth, onto her tongue—and her eyes fell closed in satisfaction. Oh, how good it felt to taste the blood she'd been wanting even a drop of for the past few days.

Stefan placed a comforting hand on her back, palm slowly rubbing up and down as she leaned backwards, head tossing back to allow gravity to help satiate her thirst.

And when she set down the bag, hand covering the opening to keep the scent of the remaining blood from escaping, she looked over at him—and he could practically see the color beginning to return to her cheeks. "Thank you." She said softly, lips inching towards a smile—only to flinch slightly when she felt his fingers thread through her long hair, the familiar feeling of his comforting touch in her hair—in a moment like this—reappearing after oh, how long.

"Better?" She nodded at his brief question, eyes closing once more to lean into his touch. "I'm glad." And Stefan nearly jumped when she leaned on his shoulder, opening her heart and soul to his graceful affection.

"Just...a bit tired from the crap we've had to deal with for the last few weeks." She murmured. "Sorry if I'm using you as a crutch—"

"No—" Stefan answered all too quickly. "I mean, you're fine—don't worry." He felt her chuckle against him. "Use me as a crutch for as long as you'd like."

"So eager to be used, Stefan Salvatore?" She teased, and he could feel his heart become warmer at the return of her lightheartedness in full swing. "Careful, women these days will break your heart if you let them do that to you."

"Some women are worth breaking my heart for." As soon as the words left Stefan's mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut, lip bitten in utter regret of what he'd just said.

Oh, Aurelia was going to— "So there's someone you want your heart broken by, then?" She'd lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, a playful smirk dancing on her pinkened lips. "And you didn't tell me—I thought you were the one who wanted to be honest, Stefan—tsk." She shook her head in disappointment, but retained the same smile.

Her eyes, as she met his, however, didn't reflect the same, and despite having no idea why she felt the way she did, Aurelia prayed that Stefan wouldn't notice the dimming feeling in her stomach from the dawning assumption that he could have feelings for someone. "You know that's not what I meant, 'Relia." And yet, her heart fluttered at the familiar sound of his nickname for her rolling off his tongue so smoothly, as if it were always destined to.

"I don't know for sure, Stefan." She dismissively said, shaking her head again—this time to wave away the thoughts.

"You do; you just like making fun of me no matter what."

"If something gives me joy, shouldn't I be allowed to do it?" She chaffed, earning a humorous glare from him, and she was ready to laugh along, laugh off the moment, laugh away the weird feeling in her stomach—

Only for it to grow. Not in size, but in discomfort—no, this wasn't the metaphorical emotion manifesting into something literal. It was something literal, pooling in her stomach to induce a sickening sense of nausea. She forced herself to swallow, the saliva beginning to pool in her mouth.

No, the feeling in her stomach was very, very real, and it was rising up fast, towards her chest. "Stefan." She gulped, hand pressing against her chest.

"Yeah?"

"Stefan." She said again, and her tone had shifted from something sweet to something alarmed, making Stefan's dreamy haze break and morph into urgency.

"Aurelia?" He placed a hand on her shoulder, craning his neck to look at her face. "What's wrong?" When Aurelia did nothing to come up with a response, he moved quickly—though briefly, to kneel in front of her hunched form, looking up to push away the hair from her face to get a better look at her expression of discomfort.

"I—I don't feel—" And she pressed a fist to her lips, covering a cough. "I'm going to be sick—" And before he could react, she was gone in a flash—zipping away in the direction of the bathroom to open the door with a burst that made it rattle on its hinges.

By the time he rushed to the door of the bathroom himself, he only caught her falling to her knees in front of the toilet, knuckles turning white as they gripped for dear life onto the seat, and Aurelia gave no time for herself to gather herself before she felt the sickness in her stomach raise to her throat, her mouth, and—

Stefan's eyes widened in shock as he watched her throw up all the blood she'd just had to drink; coughing, choking, crying from all the discomfort it was likely bringing her. He practically slid across the floor, falling down to pull her hair back and rub her back.

Aurelia felt like absolute crap as she threw up all of the blood she'd just had to drink, unable to help the tears in her eyes at the once heavenly taste of the blood turning acidic and bitter, at the severe pain she felt contract her stomach and chest, at the realization that she couldn't keep blood down in her body.

She'd known that something was wrong when her body was telling her to stay away from the one thing meant to keep her alive.

"Stef—" She coughed into the bowl some more, droplets of blood still leaving her system. Her body seemed hell-bent on removing every last drop, removing any sign of her life-sustaining food source.

Perhaps it was the magic that was draining away, that decided she needed to starve as well.

Stefan could only look on in horror, and cradle Aurelia in his arms when she was done regurgitating the very thing that could keep her from desiccating into a lifeless corpse. He could only fall back against the wall of the bathroom, her head on his chest, her body curled up between his legs, as she cried from the physical and mental agony the act and the realization brought upon her.

Aurelia could do nothing but cry in that moment, her tears no longer willing to stay back, her stress from her impeding death finally overwhelming her. And she hadn't any control of it.

Not over the fact that she was born this way.

Not over the fact that she was going to die.

And so, with Stefan's comforting embrace, she decided to cry. Eyes screwed shut, face pressed into his shirt, nose filled with his familiar scent, mouth open from her wails—she sobbed, hysterically, even. She couldn't care about her display of vulnerability—if there was anyone who could let her cry freely, it was him.

Him, who hid his own tears at the dawning realization that he could lose her all too quickly again, despite just having her back in his arms, in his life. Him, who wrapped his arms around her with more strength, like his own life depended on it.

"I'm here." He could only say, hand running through her hair again, memorizing her features as he soothed her, because he didn't know what else to do in this moment of devastating helplessness.

Expression was draining Aurelia Parker.

And as of that moment, there was nothing to impede it.

[][][]

12/21/2024