"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, 'YOU TOOK HER TO NEW YORK'?" Stefan, for what felt like the millionth time that morning, exhaled disappointedly, rubbing his face up and down with his hands in his frustration at the voice of his brother through the phone call. "Who on Earth told you that was a good idea?"

"If you've met your brother," He turned his head to spot Aurelia leaning on a table, having creeped into the room behind him quietly. "He thinks all his ideas are brilliant—Einstein level, you know—" She cut herself off as the younger Salvatore quickly began to pace towards her, body pulling backwards slightly in surprise when he put his thumb close to her mouth. "What are you doing?"

"Blood," Stefan replied mindlessly, as if what he was doing was a habit—Aurelia squinted for a moment, wondering when his physical contact with her became a habit for him.

And she proceeded to swat away his hand rather violently before he could potentially see her begin to turn red at the thought—well, he probably would've missed it anyway, with vampires being dead and all.

"What was that for?"

"Uh—" Aurelia looked away from his eyes quickly. "No reason—" And her tongue darted out to clean up the remaining blood on her lips and at the corners of her mouth, hand moving to wipe whatever saliva she'd gotten there with her sleeve.

As she remained focused on that, she could barely notice how absolutely fixated Stefan's eyes were as they followed her movements, his eyes widening the smallest bit at how... effective the unintentional action was.

"Um—" He blinked several times, turning away from Aurelia quickly before she could notice his dazed appearance. "Damon, still there?"

"After all I heard—be glad I still am."

"Where's Elena?"

"Out exploring. Maybe, she's eating a hot dog... vendor."

"Oh, wonderful." Aurelia piped up. "I take it you've retired your search for Katherine in order to get blood-drunk, then."

"No, 'Good Morning, Damon'?" Damon feigned hurt in his voice at her snappy statement. "Also, I'm more responsible than you think—because this little joyride is really just a search for Katherine and the cure."

"And Elena's fine with this?" Stefan asked, lips curling downwards in disbelief. "Yesterday, she was living the vampire high life."

"Which," Aurelia continued. "Mind you, sweet Damon, is a rollercoaster no one would want to get off."

"Of course, I know that, idiots." A pause, and then his voice became suspiciously hurried—likely so that they wouldn't catch his next statement. "WhichiswhyIdidn'ttellher." Aurelia raised both eyebrows at the idiotic idea, before throwing her arms up in surrender.

"I give up." She stated. "Damon's brain is gone forever. He's coming up with the most senseless ideas known to mankind."

"Oh shut up—" Damon snapped at her, earning an offended look he was unaware of. "I'm hoping she's going to be so wasted on blood and booze that she won't even notice."

"With how smitten you are about her," Aurelia retorted, arms folding. "She'll figure your plan out, extract it from you, and do whatever she wants with the information—and the worst part—you won't even notice!"

"If I can handle Stefan when he flipped his switch, I can handle her—trust me."

"Listen to me." Stefan pushed his way back into the conversation with a defeated sigh. "She's ruthless without her humanity. The cure is the fastest way to get it back."

"'Ruthless' is a bit..." Aurelia pursed her lips. "I think I've seen worse—" And she raised her arms in surrender when Stefan shot her a pointed look. "Okay, okay."

"Just be a good duo and keep Mystic Falls afloat while I do my thing." A small pause followed Damon's patronizing tone. "You've got an immortal with an agenda to deal with, remember?" Aurelia rolled her eyes at the reminder of Silas, less than pleased about the mess of situations they had to untangle.

Damon hung up after that, and she fell back onto the comfortable couch with a loud huff, before wincing in discomfort at the impact of something hard on her ass. "What the hell—" She reached between that and the cushiony seat fingers wrapping around a smooth, firm rectangle made of... leather?

Stefan turned right as she pulled out the irritating object from under her, eyes shooting wide open at the sight of none other than his damn diary in her grip. "Shit, Aurelia—"

"Isn't this your diary?" She held up the book for him to look at, but retracted it immediately at the sight of his frantic face as he tried to reach for the wonderfully placed object he hadn't expected to land in her clutches.

Oh, she was going to give him so much shit.

"This is old and used—were you writing or reading?" The hint of a smile danced on her tongue as she rhetorically asked him the question, and proceeded to open the book to where the attached bookmark was placed.

"Aurelia." He warned, reaching over her to grasp onto her wrist—only for her to speed right out from under his figure and stand at the other end of the room, eyes looking for the top line to read aloud for his embarrassment.

"March 28th," Pause, and she looked up at him for a moment. "That's today's date, isn't it?" Stefan closed his eyes, head falling into his hands in embarrassment.

"Oh my God." He could only mumble, the very depths of complete and utter mortification reaching to pull him into the void.

"—1863." She read out—and then stopped immediately, eyebrows furrowing together, and her eyes dropped to skim through the writing in shock. "That's the day..."

"Brother," Stefan nearly jumped at the sound of Damon's voice just behind him, posture straightening and hairs on his neck rising as he hoped—no, prayed—Damon hadn't caught him doing his daily— "Are you going to keep stealing glances at her, or will you take the long-awaited step into truly conversing with her today?"

Damn him—there was truly no privacy for Stefan in the Veritas Estate. "I'm unaware of what you talk about." He tried, forcing his shoulders to relax, and his demeanor to reduce to indifference.

"Oh, don't play games with me." Damon grinned, hand reaching to pat his younger brother's back. "I see you here nearly every day, gazing fondly at the girl like she's leagues away. What makes you think you can't speak to her?"

"You speak to her enough." He dismissed, only for Damon's pats to turn into a hard smack on the back. "Ow!"

"I'm away at war half the time." Damon replied. "Wouldn't you rather she had someone closer to her age to speak with? Heavens, I even heard her tell that maid of hers the other night, how lost in her lonesome she'd been feeling as of late."

"And how am I to make that any better?"

"Ah, my darling brother," Stefan needed to smack that grin off Damon's face as he spoke. "If only you'd taken an eye to her more often than you already do. She's itching to talk to you—but you've turned a blind eye and a cold shoulder to all her attempts to speak to you."

"Because—"

"Because you haven't the faintest clue how to talk to a woman." Damon drawled on and on, earning some semblance of a pout. "Don't fret it—I'm here for all the brotherly advice you could need."

"Damon, I can't just force her—"

"Did you shut your ears while I mentioned how she looks over at you all the time?"

"B—But—"

"Stefan!" He hissed, messing up the younger's hair. "Go after her—else you'll tempt me to out of mere spite."

"You despicable man." Stefan finally sighed, taking a more hesitant glance towards the girl in question, corners of his lips uplifting at the refreshing sight of her walking around slowly in her lilac gown, eyes trained on the assortments of flowers surrounding her figure in the garden.

He'd have to call on an artist to draw her like that sometime.

For now, he'd saunter towards her—indifferently—no, with interest. He'd talk to her today. Perhaps pave the way for more conversations in the future, even a possible friendship.

And so he smiled as he came to a stop next to her, a few strides away out of courtesy. "Miss Parker." His greeting made the girl look towards him suddenly, though a practiced and polite smile befell her lips quickly—he did not, however, miss the joyful twinkle in her eyes when she realized it was him.

"Mister Salvatore." She returned with a small bow of her head, and then her eyes flew past his shoulder. "Were you out on a walk with your brother? The winds are gentle today." Stefan turned his head slightly to see Damon, still standing in the distance. He waved quickly and hurried back inside, making Aurelia frown slightly. "Perhaps not, then."

"Damon's..." He chuckled slightly. "On and about his usual antics."

"I sometimes wonder if he's the younger between the both of you." She commented, before blinking and lowering her head in embarrassment. "Forgive me, that was a bit brazen."

"Not at all—It's not often that I see someone as refreshingly straightforward around the Estate." He smiled as he spoke, and then looked towards the unfamiliar lavenders they were standing by. "I believe I've—uh—seen you come by the gardens rather frequently. Do you take an interest towards flora?"

"Oh," Aurelia reached out to caress one of the lavender sprigs. "I hope I haven't been a bother—"

"No, no—" He quickly reassured. "I was simply curious."

"I planted these some time ago—I had asked your father if I could add them to the garden during my stay with your family, and he graciously had Damon send for some around when I arrived in Mystic Falls." Her explanation was followed by a smile.

"You did that by yourself?" He asked, interest piqued by her dedication to the nuanced art. "There was no need to dirty your hands and dresses—you could have had the maids help." Aurelia shook her head.

"I was told by another family that took me in when I was younger that our want to help flowers like this grow will encourage a phenomenally beautiful blossoming." She then looked up at him, excitement gleaming in her eyes. "Have you ever planted anything in this garden? I could walk with you so you could point them out." Her proposal was laced with a hint of anxiety, and Stefan could see that Damon was right when he mentioned her want to spend some time with him.

"I have not yet, unfortunately." He responded, and felt disappointed in himself at the way her eyes dimmed. "Father kept Damon and I away from hobbies in order to raise proper heirs."

"Oh."

"I know nothing about the flowers in my own garden." He continued, and took a small step towards her hesitantly. "So, would you be so kind as to go on that walk with me and tell me what you know? Perhaps I'll be inclined to teaching myself about this art form."

At his words, he felt a warming in his chest when she smiled brightly. "I would enjoy nothing more. And you wouldn't have to teach yourself—I could show you what I do—it's quite simple—and we could plant—"

He couldn't believe he was speaking to the same girl, who he'd thought was reserved and quiet for the few weeks she'd been here. The very thought of their potential friendship brought a sweet smile to his face.

"—Daisies, perhaps a section or two of bluebells—" Aurelia quickly cut herself off in her hasty manner of speech, eyes falling to the seams of her gown in embarrassment. "I apologize—Maria tells me time and again that I tend to get lost in my excitement..."

"Miss Parker," He drew her gaze with her name. "I don't think that warrants an apology. I quite like your excitement the way it is..." His last sentence was spoken slowly, as if he were trying decide to say it in the first place. "May I take you on that walk, now?" With his next statement—he could've sworn it took all his courage to say it aloud, raising his elbow and upper arm for her to hold onto.

"Of course." She replied, fingers wrapping around his arm quickly, and the two set out on their afternoon walk, mingling about as Damon eyed them in the distance with a silly grin, hiding behind a ridiculously large sculpture.

"Is Hibiscus a good choice?" He could hear Stefan ask—and he couldn't be more proud of his brother's charm.

"It's the best I can think of." And of course, Aurelia's cheery voice was more than pleasing for him to hear, the idea of the pair getting along a weeks-long dream of his.

"We could add that in, too, then."

"Really?!"

"The day we first—" Aurelia seemed rather lost in thought as she begun to speak, recollecting the memory rather vividly.

"—Spoke properly." When she heard Stefan complete the sentence, she blinked her vision back into the real world, and nearly gasped at her view—the sight of him nearly towering over her, his height a bloody head taller than her own when she was wearing flats instead of heels.

It was then when she realized that his arm rested on the bookshelf just next to her head—moreover, that she was practically sandwiched between him and the bookshelf. "Why was that so carelessly on the couch?" She hesitated to ask, eyes flickering downwards to avoid eye contact. "Last I heard, you stored your journals meticulously."

"I didn't think you'd find it." He responded, voice and demeanor guarded in a way she couldn't interpret.

"So you were reading it." She assumed, and when he nodded, slowly held the book up between the both of them, slightly pushing it into his chest. "Why? Unhappy with present-day Aurelia's personality, still?"

"You know that's not why." His voice turned into a murmur, and though she wouldn't meet his gaze, he refused to take his away from her. "I was..." And he took the book from her, gently so as to avoid startling her. "Feeling nostalgic. Don't you, sometimes?"

"Irrelevant." She tried to dismiss, but as she watched the head of his shadow shake, she huffed stubbornly. "You know the answer to that as well." Satisfied with her admitting-ish reply, Stefan smiled victoriously and pulled away, and Aurelia swore internally at the cold air beginning to embrace her.

"There's one thing I've been thinking about as of late." He brought up, pushing the diary into a perfectly sized gap amongst many other leather-covered journals on a shelf nearby. "Everyone refers to my human era, that is, my era with you, as 'the era of 1864'." A small pause, and he looked over at her in his peripheral, noticing she was still leaned against the bookshelf. "I realized after sometime, that despite your famous status from my stories prior to your arrival in Mystic Falls last year—"

"That...not a lot of people really know much about us—like the fact that we actually met in 1863, not 1864." Aurelia completed, and her eyes were tinged with some sort of reminiscence. "I get that—I guess it's the fact that the highlight was probably Katherine and the drama she started when she got to the Estate in April, 1864."

"You think that Katherine was the highlight?"

No, she wanted to say. I know that you were the highlight of that era for me, she wanted to insist.

"Well—" She chuckled humorlessly. "She was for you when she'd compelled you away from me." Stefan paused a moment, surprised that she'd take the initiative to refer to their relationship, albeit implicitly. "I remember how that felt."

"I still thought about you—she simply made me do what she wanted me to do. My thoughts still belonged to you."

Stefan quickly understood that their previous mentioning of 1864 was just what it was—a brief mention. It explained the hesitation that hung in the air during what seemed like their first conversation about that time.

"Before I spoke of you to our friends, we were going through the realization that Elena was a doppelganger, and that she was dealing with the supernatural." He clarified, words slow and absorbent in Aurelia's mind. "I brought up Katherine first—but when Elena noticed an open diary from 1864 on my desk, she saw your name."

Aurelia was clearly new to this information; he'd surmised from her focused facial expressions.

"That was how you were brought up."

"What... did you tell her?"

"Most things, but Damon and I decided that some parts of your memory should be kept with us. More so with just me." He replied. "But I told her about our first meeting—about our friendship-turned-relationship—and then how Katherine took me away from you upon her arrival in town." He'd looked at her as he explained himself, unable to tear his eyes away from her intently focused stare. "And then I told her about the night I lost you." A careful silence befell the pair for minutes—minutes that felt like days.

"...Stefan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm... so sorry." She began, chest heaving once or twice. "I let you mourn me because I thought it was the better option. I refused to look at it from your perception—and let you begin your immortality of addiction all by yourself."

Stefan hesitated to respond with a question. "Did you... know you'd be brought back to life?" Aurelia looked at nothing in particular for another few moments, eyes holding a sense of regret. "Had you already made your mind up about letting me think you'd died?"

"...No." She replied, eyelids falling shut. "Klaus had the ring made for me—and he kept the true purpose of it under wraps, figuring that I'd be more careful with my life if I knew I only had one."

"Oh."

"So, when I saw you bleeding out in that field as I was pulled away into that carriage—" As she forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat, Stefan had to shut his own eyes at the agonizing memory. "I screamed for you. Because I thought I was going to die before I could do anything to save you. Your precious life was lost because it was entangled in mine." A small sigh. "And when I awoke once again, you were nowhere to be found. I fled the town and left the state—and when I told Klaus about it, he forbade my going back for the sake of my safety—and went himself to slaughter the people that killed me."

"I had already beat him to it by then. Indulged in human blood and simply couldn't stop." Stefan put the pieces together quickly.

"That was how he found out about your existence—but by the time he'd come back to tell me about it—" Aurelia's visage began to contort in disgust, at herself, at her decisions, at everything she'd done at that point. "He found me with the switch off. Rebekah and Elijah had me in a cell to prevent me from giving their location away because of all the people I'd killed."

"You got rid of your humanity?"

"And didn't will myself to get it back for another few years."

"Because—"

"I couldn't handle losing you. I escaped as soon as Klaus tried to talk to me, and—" She laughed bitterly. "Disappeared. Only turned on my emotions when they found me over a decade later and imprisoned me once again—when Klaus