Mystic Falls always was cold in early October. As Rhysand stepped out of his car, such a fact came back into his memory. It made him smile as he closed the drivers side door, made the first inhale of the cool air one he deeply appreciated after months spent in the warmest parts of Europe.
The Salvatore house was where he'd ended up. It was odd to see it again, so similar and yet so different to how it'd looked in '99.
As Rhysand thought of it, it made him scoff. It felt like so much had changed since then, and yet nothing really had if one was to base such an observation off of the houses external appearance alone.
He forced his gaze to the cobblestoned driveway, inhaled and exhaled. Seeing Damon was something he could handle. What was ten years, anyway? Ten years without talking to the man who Rhys had once thought to be the love of his life? Everything that'd happened between them was in the past. It had to be.
So, he forced himself to walk up the door, knocked once, twice, three times, only to be met by a face he'd never seen before. He was met by a girl with tanned skin, brown eyes and brown hair to match.
"Might Stefan Salvatore be around?" He asked. "I don't know if I might've gotten the wrong address, but if such is the case, I apologize."
"Who're you?" The unnamed door-answerer asked.
"Rhysand Abernathy," he responded. "I doubt I'm worthy of mentioning, really." As soon as the words had fallen from his lips, he heard a scoff, one that he recognized too well to question it.
"You doubt you're worthy of mentioning, Abernathy? You look like you were created in the image of a god. Don't deny yourself your attractiveness," Damon said as he approached the door. He leaned against the side of it. "Elena, Rhysand. Rhysand, this is Elena. She's Stefans girlfriend."
"Wait—you're Rhysand? Stefan said that you and Lexi both helped him navigate his ripper phases," Elena said. "I—sorry, this is entirely too odd. You're a vampire too, right?"
Rhysand looked to Damon. "She knows about—"
"Yep. It's made this past month a very busy one, Abernathy. Couldn't've bothered to turn up sooner? I would've loved having someone to help me make sure neither my brother nor his idiot friends got themselves killed."
Rhysand allowed himself a laugh. "Sorry, Damon. I would've showed up earlier. I was just putting seeing you off a little bit," he said. "I figured it was justified, but forgive me if it's not."
"Luckily for you, it is." Damon said.
"Hey!" Stefan shouted, the tension that had three seconds to build collapsing with the single word. "I wasn't expecting you until next week. Figured you'd roll in as pumpkin season hit the masses. How've you been?"
"Both better and worse," Rhysand said with a shrug. "Thank you for letting me stay here. I love Europe, I just—you get sick of the never ending warmth after a decade or two. Damon tells me you've got quite the full plate."
Stefan laughed. "Three weeks into the school year and shit is hitting the fan," he said. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow, after you've had a chance to rest."
Rhysand just nodded.
"C'mon. I'll show you to your room. Damon can get your things," Stefan said as Elena walked into the house, mentioning tea offhandedly.
Rhysand followed Stefan through the house and up the stairs, finding that his bedroom was at the end of the hall. Rhysand took his bags from Damon, and found himself amazed. A life so long lived, and yet he could fit it all into two duffle bags.
It almost made him scoff. Minimalism was learned skill when running away from Klaus Mikaelson, so it seemed.
Perhaps, though, as he lived longer in Mystic Falls, such a thing would change, though it was likely that it would not. Rhysand had become an expert at leaving Klaus behind in the years since Klaus had turned him, and in turn, Klaus had become an expert at searching the places that Rhysand always went back to, had eyes in most every town that would report the moment Rhysand so much as came into their peripheral.
Mystic Falls was different, though. Klaus had no eyes in Mystic Falls. The town was small enough that it was one that Klaus had never bothered with, outside of the additional fact that it'd been the place where he was born and raised, he seemed to find it much too forgettable. For that much, for the safe haven that Mystic Falls so often became, Rhysand was grateful.
Klaus had saved Rhysands life, though. In 1865, at twenty-three years old, Rhysand almost died from drowning. Klaus had saved him in exchange for simply never having to be alone, for having someone at his side in most everything, save for romance or those particulars. At the time, it seemed a fair bargain, one that he couldn't argue with.
It was a bargain that resulted in the complete erasure of the memories he had before he was a vampire, though. It resulted in the development of a borderline fear of abandonment of Rhysands own, though not nearly so prevalent as Klaus' was. Rhysand was sure, if he could go back and choose again, he would've chosen to die.
He scoffed to himself as he unzipped one of the duffle bags, pulling out a few of his shirts. So much had happened since 1865. So many years had passed. A plethora of black outs, gaps in memory that Rhysand had never quite figured out how to explain. A lot of laughter had been shared in those years, countless books read, and yet, somehow, there lie within those years a deep sense of regret. A deep sense of regret that, instead of letting Klaus kill him, he'd taken the offer. He'd agreed to be Klaus' friend, the one person who would never leave his side.
He'd been born in Europe, raised in a small town in London. As far as his past went, that was as much as he knew, aside from his birthday. It was all he really wanted to know, though. If Rhysand had had any family before he was turned, it'd been over a hundred years and they were likely dead. There was no point in learning that, grieving people he'd never known.
He sighed again as he closed the duffle bag, putting the shirts he'd grabbed onto the dresser pressed against the wall that was parallel to his bed. He'd driven for twelve hours. Unpacking could wait, he was exhausted.
He fell onto the bed easily, eyes closing and sleep taking him over within minutes.
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Forget All, Remember None | slow updates
Fanfiction"No," Rhysand said. "I wouldn't change anything about you. I loved you exactly as you'd been."
