Dusk painted the Salvatore boarding house in shades of amber and shadow.
Elena sat alone in the living room, one leg tucked beneath her on the couch, pretending to read a book while her mind wandered.
Stefan had left in the morning before she woke to handle the nobles' arrival with Klaus. His absence felt like a physical thing - a hollowness in the air around her.
The grandfather clock ticked steadily in the corner, marking time with the same indifference it had shown for over a century. Elena glanced at her phone again. No messages.
"He'll be fine," she told herself aloud, her voice sounding small in the empty room.
The front door opened without warning. Elena startled, the book tumbling from her lap as she rose to her feet.
Rebekah stood in the entryway, golden hair cascading over her shoulders, expression unreadable.
She wore dark jeans and a deep blue blouse that looked deceptively simple until you noticed the intricate stitching - expensive in that understated way only the truly wealthy could manage.
"Hello, Elena," Rebekah said, closing the door behind her. "Expecting someone else?"
Elena recovered quickly, straightening her posture. "I wasn't expecting anyone."
"Clearly." Rebekah's eyes scanned the room, taking in the solitary glass of wine, the discarded book. "Stefan asked me to keep an eye on you while he's handling Klaus's tedious royal court."
"I don't need a babysitter," Elena replied, crossing her arms.
Rebekah smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes. "Consider me a bodyguard then. One with a thousand years of combat experience."
She moved into the living room with fluid grace, trailing her fingers along the back of the couch. "Besides, I'm rather good company once you get to know me."
"I'll take your word for it." Elena bent to retrieve her fallen book, using the moment to compose herself. When she straightened, she found Rebekah studying her with an instensity that was... unexpected.
"Are you hungry?" Elena asked, more to break the silence than anything else.
"Vampires don't require regular meals like humans," Rebekah replied, then seemed to catch herself. "But I suppose I could watch you eat."
"How generous." Elena headed toward the kitchen, aware of Rebekah following a few steps behind.
The kitchen's fluorescent lights felt harsh after the dimness of the living room. Elena opened the refrigerator, surveying its contents.
"I was going to make pasta," she said, pulling out ingredients. "Nothing fancy."
Rebekah perched on a barstool at the island, watching as Elena gathered tomatoes, garlic, and herbs. "I remember when pasta was considered exotic," she remarked. "In England, at least. The Italians, of course, had been making it for centuries."
Elena glanced up from chopping tomatoes. "Sometimes I forget how much history you've seen."
"Most of it rather dull, if I'm honest." Rebekah leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. "Though the fashion has improved considerably. Those corsets were absolutely murderous."
Despite herself, Elena smiled. "I can imagine."
"No," Rebekah said, "you really can't."
Silence fell between them as Elena continued preparing her meal. She set water to boil, then began mincing garlic. Rebekah watched with apparent fascination.
"Would you like to help?" Elena asked, surprised by her own offer.
Rebekah hesitated, then nodded. "What shall I do?"
"You can chop these herbs." Elena pushed a cutting board toward her.
Rebekah approached the task with determination, picking up the knife awkwardly. She frowned at the herbs as if they had personally offended her.
"Like this," Elena demonstrated, guiding Rebekah's hand into the proper position. "Not so tight on the handle."
"I've killed men with less thought than this requires," Rebekah muttered, adjusting her grip.
"Cooking is different from killing," Elena replied. "It's about creating, not destroying."
Rebekah glanced up, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "An interesting perspective."
They worked in silence for several minutes, the only sounds the rhythmic chopping and the bubbling water.
Elena found herself relaxing slightly, the familiar routine of cooking grounding her despite who she was with right now.
"The microwave is truly humanity's greatest invention," Rebekah said suddenly, eyeing the appliance. "Stefan showed me how to use it. I can heat blood bags in seconds."
Elena winced slightly. "That's... practical."
"Indeed." Rebekah finished chopping, her pile of herbs far more precise than Elena had expected. "What next?"
"That's it for now. Thanks." Elena added the pasta to the boiling water.
Rebekah washed her hands meticulously, then leaned against the counter. "You're quite capable in the kitchen."
"My mom taught me," Elena said, stirring the sauce. The memory brought a familiar ache. "Before she died."
"I'm sorry," Rebekah said, her voice softening unexpectedly. "About your parents. Stefan told me."
Elena looked up, surprised by what sounded like genuine sympathy. "Thank you."
When the meal was ready, Elena plated her pasta and poured herself another glass of wine. After a moment's hesitation, she poured one for Rebekah as well.
"Shall we sit in the living room?" Rebekah suggested. "These kitchen chairs are dreadfully uncomfortable."
They relocated to the living room, Elena with her dinner, Rebekah with her wine. The Original vampire settled onto the couch with regal posture, while Elena took the armchair across from her.
"This is cozy," Rebekah remarked, her tone making it impossible to tell if she was being sarcastic.
Elena took a bite of pasta, using the moment to study Rebekah. In the softer lighting, the Original looked younger, almost vulnerable. It was easy to forget she'd lived for a thousand years and was one of the strongest beings on the planet.
Rebekah's attention had wandered to the photographs displayed on the side table. She picked up one of Stefan and Elena from before the summer, studying it with unreadable eyes.
"He looks at you differently," she said finally, setting the frame down.
"Different from what?" Elena asked.
"From how he looked at others." Rebekah swirled her wine, watching the crimson liquid catch the light. "Even me, sometimes."
Elena set her fork down, her curiosity overcoming her caution. "What was he like? In the twenties?"
Rebekah's eyes met hers, assessing. After a moment, she seemed to make a decision.
"Magnificent," she said simply. "Fearless. Philosophical, even without his humanity. He asked questions about identity, about the nature of self, that I hadn't considered in nine hundred years." She smiled at some private memory. "And he liked to dance- he danced divinely."
"Stefan? Actually liking dancing?" Elena couldn't hide her surprise.
"Oh yes. For hours at Gloria's. He loved the music - jazz was still new then, exciting." Rebekah's expression grew distant. "Chicago in the twenties was... electric. Prohibition made everything feel dangerous and thrilling. The speakeasies, the music, the blood..."
She caught herself. "Well, you understand."
Elena didn't, not really, but she nodded anyway. "Did he ever talk about his past? About Damon?"
"Rarely." Rebekah took a sip of wine. "The Ripper had little interest in his human connections. Though he did mention once that he missed hunting with his brother. Actual animals, I mean. When they were human."
Elena absorbed this, trying to reconcile it with the Stefan she knew. "It's hard to imagine him without his humanity."
"Is it?" Rebekah tilted her head. "I think perhaps you've seen glimpses of it since his return. The control, the calculation. The way he positions himself between you and danger without seeming to think about it."
Elena's fork paused halfway to her mouth. "What are you saying?"
"Nothing sinister." Rebekah waved a dismissive hand. "Merely that Stefan is... complex. More so than most vampires." She leaned forward slightly. "Did you know he once tried to integrate both sides of himself? His humanity and his ripper nature?"
"What do you mean, 'integrate'?"
"He had a theory that the division wasn't necessary. That he could maintain the freedom he felt without humanity while still experiencing genuine connection." Rebekah's voice softened. "He asked me to help him try."
Elena set down her plate entirely now, her food forgotten. "What happened?"
"It failed." Rebekah's expression clouded. "Spectacularly. The guilt crushed him. I had to turn his humanity off again immediately."
Elena tried to process this. "But now-"
A sharp sound from outside interrupted her. Both women tensed, Rebekah rising to her feet in a fluid motion.
"Stay here," the Original commanded, moving toward the window with predatory grace.
Elena ignored her, following close behind. "What was that?"
Rebekah peered through the curtains, her posture alert. "Probably nothing, but..."
Another sound - a rustling, followed by a thump. Rebekah moved toward the front door, Elena trailing behind despite the vampire's irritated glance.
They stepped onto the porch together. The night air was cool against Elena's skin. Rebekah scanned the darkness, her body positioned slightly in front of Elena's - protective without seeming to think about it, just as she'd described Stefan doing.
A raccoon scurried from behind a bush, knocking over a flowerpot before disappearing into the night.
"Well," Rebekah said dryly, "that was anticlimactic."
Elena released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "Better than it actually being something."
Their eyes met in the dim porch light, a moment of unexpected understanding passing between them. Rebekah's lips curved in a small smile.
"Indeed."
They returned to the living room, the brief moment of shared tension having shifted something in the atmosphere. Elena reclaimed her seat but left her food untouched.
"You were saying," she prompted, "about Stefan."
Rebekah settled back onto the couch, tucking one leg beneath her in an unexpectedly casual pose. "Yes. Well, as I said, his experiment failed then. But I believe he's succeeded now."
"What makes you say that?"
"He's different. Balanced in a way I've never seen before." Rebekah studied Elena over the rim of her wineglass. "I suspect you're part of the reason why."
Elena blinked, surprised. "Me?"
"You anchor him." Rebekah's tone was matter-of-fact. "Your love gives him something to tether his humanity to without drowning in guilt."
"I..." Elena struggled to formulate a response. "I didn't do anything special."
"Perhaps not intentionally." Rebekah set her glass down. "But effect doesn't require intent."
A comfortable silence fell between them. Elena found herself studying Rebekah, seeing beyond the Original's prickly exterior to the woman who had loved Stefan for nearly a century.
"Tell me about your relationship with him," Elena said finally. "If you're okay with it."
Rebekah's eyebrows rose slightly, but she nodded. "It was... passionate. Consuming. Stefan in the twenties was nothing if not intense." Her eyes took on a distant quality. "He wanted to possess everything about me - my thoughts, my desires, my past. He would spend hours asking questions about places I'd been, things I'd seen."
"That sounds..." Elena searched for the right word.
"Obsessive?" Rebekah supplied with a small smile. "It was. Gloriously so."
Elena shifted in her seat, uncomfortable yet fascinated. "And you... shared other women?"
"Yes." Rebekah's directness was startling. "It was quite common for us. I enjoyed watching him with them almost as much as participating myself."
Elena felt heat rise to her cheeks. "I can't imagine Stefan that way."
"No?" Rebekah tilted her head. "Perhaps you simply haven't given him the opportunity to show you that side of himself."
"I don't think that's it," Elena countered, her voice firmer now. "Stefan respects me."
"As did he respect me," Rebekah replied smoothly. "Respect and desire aren't mutually exclusive, Elena. Nor are respect and possession."
Elena took a large sip of wine, trying to process how Rebekah saw things. "It's different now. We're monogamous."
"Are you?" Rebekah asked, her tone curious rather than challenging. "Or is Stefan simply restraining himself out of deference to your human sensibilities?"
"Stefan isn't restraining himself," Elena insisted.
Rebekah raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "Are you sure about that?"
"What are you talking about?"
Rebekah rose from her seat and moved to sit beside Elena on the couch. The sudden proximity made Elena tense, but she held her ground.
"I'm talking about the fact that Stefan is still in love with me," Rebekah said softly.
Elena shook her head immediately. "No, he's not. He chose me."
"Choosing you doesn't negate his feelings for me," Rebekah countered. "Vampires don't love the way humans do, Elena. Our emotions are far stronger- not as easy to let go of."
"That's not-"
"Think about it," Rebekah interrupted, her voice gentle but insistent. "Really think. Remember every interaction Stefan and I have had since I awoke. Every time he leaned away from me, created distance, refused my advances- for you. Did you see his eyes?"
Elena hesitated, memories flooding back - moments she'd noticed but pushed aside. The pain that flickered across Stefan's face when he stepped away from Rebekah. The way his gaze lingered on her when he thought no one was watching.
"He's just... adjusting," Elena argued, but her voice lacked conviction. "The memories are fresh for him too. Klaus just gave them back."
"Do you really want to hurt him?" Rebekah asked, her voice soft. "By denying him both of us?"
Elena's heart clenched at the thought of causing Stefan pain. "He'll get over it," she insisted. "After a little time, he won't hurt anymore."
Rebekah looked at Elena with what appeared almost like pity. She shifted closer on the couch, her movements fluid and graceful.
"That," she said softly, "is where you're wrong. You cannot possibly understand how possessive Stefan is."
Elena swallowed, feeling suddenly vulnerable under Rebekah's intense gaze. "What do you mean?"
Rebekah was silent for a long moment, seeming to contemplate something. Her blue eyes studied Elena's face as if searching for something specific.
"Would you like to hear a story?" she asked finally. "A story about what happened to a woman who... betrayed us?" She paused, her expression growing serious. "I'm giving you a choice, because this story is not... pretty."
Elena hesitated, her heartbeat quickening. Part of her wanted to refuse, to maintain the image of Stefan she'd carefully made. But a deeper part - the part that had been... embracing her needs, since after all her losses - needed to know.
"Yes," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I want to hear it."
Rebekah nodded, settling back against the cushions. "In 1922, there was a woman named Leia. She was around 23, with red hair, blue eyes, and a beautiful face and body."
Her voice took on a storyteller's cadence. "She became our pet. Stefan liked her, even began to pamper her a bit. We didn't even compel her, since Stefan was beginning to like her genuinely."
Elena listened, her breath shallow, as Rebekah continued.
"But she betrayed us."
"How?" Elena asked, her throat dry.
Rebekah was silent for a moment. Then, in a smooth motion that startled Elena, she wrapped an arm around Elena's shoulders, pulling her into a side hug. Elena stiffened at the unexpected contact, but Rebekah's arm was like iron, keeping her close.
"Leia fell in love with another man," Rebekah continued, her fingers gently running through Elena's hair. "She slept with him. Stefan was furious."
She paused. "No, furious doesn't even begin to describe it. Leia was his pet, his possession, and for her to choose someone over him was spitting in his face, after everything he gave her."
"What did he do?" Elena asked, her voice barely audible. She tried to pull away from Rebekah's embrace, but the Original held her firmly.
"Let go," Elena said, annoyed.
"No," Rebekah replied, her voice playfully pouty. "I'm going to convince you we can be sisters."
Elena stilled, confused by the shift in tone. Rebekah's fingers continued their gentle stroking of her hair as she resumed her story.
"Stefan got even," she said. "He seduced Leia back into his bed, acting like he didn't know of her betrayal. And when he was fucking her, I brought that other man - Paul was his name - tied up, and pushed his head to the ground. Forced him to watch as Stefan took Leia, fucked her right in front of him, made her scream his name."
Elena's breath caught in her throat.
"Leia was shocked," Rebekah continued, her voice matter-of-fact despite the horror of her words. "She tried to ask Stefan to stop, for Paul to look away - but she herself still enjoyed it. Still enjoyed being fucked, pounded from behind by Stefan."
Rebekah's arm remained around Elena, her body warm against Elena's side.
"Stefan listed her crimes as he was fucking her. Told her he knew of her betrayal. Leia begged for his forgiveness - but some things Stefan can never forgive."
Rebekah's voice dropped lower. "He bit into her neck and drank so hard he ripped her head off. Then he pulled out of her, went to Paul, and with his fingers, gouged out Paul's eyes for having put his gaze on what was Stefan's- Paul having known of her relationship with us. He castrated him and let him go - compelled Paul to never forget what he saw."
Silence fell between them. Elena's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing to reconcile this story with the Stefan she knew. The Stefan who held her so gently, who looked at her with such tenderness.
What shocked her most wasn't the horror of the story - it was her own reaction to it. Instead of revulsion, she felt a perverse thrill, a dark excitement.
Stefan's possessiveness, his absolute refusal to share what was his, made her feel... secure. Protected. Wanted in a way she'd never experienced before.
She again felt it- him choosing her. Choosing her over everyone- even... Even Damon. What she always wanted.
Rebekah shifted slightly, her nostrils flaring. Elena realized with embarrassment that the Original could smell her arousal. She tried to pull away again, but Rebekah held her fast.
"Well," Rebekah said, surprise evident in her voice. "That's not the reaction I expected."
Elena said nothing, unable to meet Rebekah's eyes.
"You're not horrified," Rebekah observed. "You're excited."
Still, Elena remained silent, her cheeks burning.
Rebekah studied her with new interest. "Your greatest fear is him leaving you, isn't it?" she said softly. "And with how possessive Stefan is, he won't. He'll never leave you. He'll always keep you at his side."
The words hit Elena like a physical blow - the truth of them impossible to deny. After losing her parents, after so much death and abandonment, the idea of someone who would never, could never let her go was intoxicating.
Rebekah smiled to herself, seeming to find Elena far more interesting than she'd anticipated. She rose gracefully from the couch, then bent to press a gentle kiss to Elena's forehead.
"Think about it," she said softly. "I doubt I can love another man like Stefan, and with how Stefan is, he will always be in pain. He will kill any man who tries to approach me." She stepped back. "This is for the three of us' happiness."
With that, Rebekah turned and walked toward the door, her movements fluid and unhurried. She paused at the threshold, glancing back at Elena still frozen on the couch.
"Good night, Elena," she said. "Sweet dreams."
The door closed behind her with a soft click, leaving Elena alone with her thoughts and the lingering warmth where Rebekah's lips had touched her skin.
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(Author note: Yeah- Stefan is dark. Again, he's a yandere, and this is how they are.
Hope you guys liked the chapter. I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)