"Katherine pretending to be Elena" requested by Anon

Steroline: “Mr. Salvatore”

“Caroline,” he says, hand reaching out but she shrugs away. “I’m sorry.”

“I bet,” she replies, shifting away from him. “So sorry that you’re only apologizing because I found out.” 

Turning back to look at him, face stoic but the eyes betraying his emotions. 

“It’s not like that,” he insists. 

“Then please tell me,” she shoots back. “What is it like? Because I wouldn’t feel the need to tell you I was spending the day with Damon if that was never the case.” 

He can’t help but look amused at the statement. 

“You spending the day with Damon?”

“So not my point. 

“I don’t want you to-”

“To what? Freak out? It’s a little late for that Mr. Salvatore.”

She stops to take a breath, trying to will all of the nervous energy out of her system. He knows she’s angry, just how much conveyed in the flinch when calling him mister, something she only ever does when he’s stepped in it good.

“I’m not upset that you were with Elena,” she says, voice trying to sound assuring. “She’s my friend too, and I swear I’m over the fact that you two used to be in love. But you lied about it, Stefan. You felt that you had to lie. Which just makes me think there were ulterior motives for the visit. Which makes me think I have something to worry about. And you not coming clean means you’re treating me like neurotic, girly, little Caroline. Which you promised you would never do.” 


“Sorry? You said that already.” 

“What can I do?” He asks. “Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

“My heart isn’t some leaky faucet you can turn a wrench on!” She shouts, throwing her hands up in the air, calm flying straight out the window. 

He steps toward her, pausing to test how close she’ll let him, and takes another when she doesn’t move. Insecurity burns in the back of her throat, and she knows his arms around her will just make it worse, but lets him do it anyway. 

“It’s you,” he says softly into her neck. “It’s only you. Please know that.” 

Eyes flutter closed as her chin sinks onto his shoulder. 

“Don’t lie to me anymore. Ever.”

“I won’t,” he says. “I-”

“No promises,” she interrupts. “You kind of suck at those.” 

— knives-and-lint