Try {One | Alaric Saltzman}

The Hybrid

Abigail dropped Jeremy off at work thirty minutes early and told Elena where to find her if she needed to, so she felt no guilt whatsoever as she turned her key in the loft door. Alaric was asleep, face buried in his pillows, arm hanging off the side of the bed, still wearing his pants and shoes from the night before. She was expecting to find him that way, she usually did if she hadn't stayed there, but it didn't make her feel any better.

The small round dining table was covered in lesson plans for the upcoming school year, take out menus, and a few pieces of mail here and there, but she sat down at it anyway. Highlights from the previous night's baseball game played at a low volume on the television tucked away in the corner as she flipped through a Gilbert journal he had in his possession. She didn't plan on paying any attention to it, but when Andie's picture flashed across the screen she reached for the remote.

"Whether suicide, or a tragic accident, WPKW News has lost one of its shining stars. Field reporter and weekend anchor Andie Star was discovered..."

She ran into the bedroom. "Alaric!"

He pulled her into the bed, placing lazy kisses down her neck as he asked, "What ever happened to good morning?"

"Good morning." She pushed herself away from him, pointing to the television. "Look."

"Oh, God. I forgot to call you last night." He ran his hands down his face. "I'm sorry."

She looked down at him. "You knew?"

"Yeah... It was Stefan."

The knot in her stomach tightened. "What?"

"Why do you seem so surprised? He's off the rails and you know it." He sat up, mistaking the look on her face as defeat. "Abigail, he-"

"He called Elena on her birthday."

They made it to the couch with cups of coffee slowly, neither one of them willing to rush their time away. He told her the good and the bad about his summers in Boston, leaving nothing to the imagination as he absentmindedly played with the ends of her hair. Her laugh was as loud as his, overlapping in a way that made them sound like one.

"Next summer, you and I, we should go," he said. "Take the long way, stop wherever you want to."

She pressed a kiss against his lips as she climbed into his lap. "I love road trips."

"And I love you." His soft smile kept her in place as much as his hands on her waist did. He moved in to kiss her again, slowly, as he asked, "Which is why I am willing to drive the whole way."

As soon as his lips left hers, she wanted to kiss him again, to wrap her arms around him and hold him against her. When it was just the two of them, they didn't have to pretend, they didn't have to hide, and they didn't have to act like they didn't know what the other could bring them. But that also meant that they didn't have to whisper, they didn't have to have silent conversations from across the room, and they didn't have to wait for hours to share the jokes that crossed their minds. So, instead, with the smallest of laughs, she asked, "What about the whole 50/50 thing?"

There was a knock on the door.

"Go away, Damon!"

Another knock.

"Damon, I swear-"

The knocking turned to pounding.

Alaric stomped to the door, ripping it open with a slew of curses that Abigail was surprised hadn't escaped him sooner.

Elena laughed. "Hi."

"You're, uh..." He tried to cover his bare chest with the door. "You're not who I expected."