Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
004. SEASON FOUR, EPISODE TWENTY
━━━━━━
ELENA DOESN'T KNOW QUITE WHAT to make of the invitation sitting on the bathroom counter of Hayley's hotel suite. Wonders if she should even touch it in fear it would burn her alive ( but like that would be a terrible thing, really ).
"What the fuck do we do?" Hayley hisses, voice low and quiet like she's afraid someone could be listening in on them. Probably is, actually.
"Read it?" Elena suggests, unsure, eyes tracing over the curve of names scrawled on top of the envelope.
Hayley Marshall & Elena Gilbert
Hayley shoots Elena a withering stare. "Do you notremember what happened two days ago in Rousseau's? I'm still convinced they tried to kill you."
"Yeah, but you didn't really help matters by pissing off Jane-Anne," Elena snips back and buries the flicker of guilt she feels. Doesn't waste time to think about why she's so flippant with her life these days, "In fact, that's probably who this is from. The witches."
Hayley flips her wet hair over her shoulder. After noticing an envelope that definitely wasn't there before she got in the shower, she threw on the nearest clothing she could find and shook Elena out of her mid-day nap and demanded Elena to come to the bathroom where their Problem of the Day was located.
( God, when she left Mystic Falls, she meant to leave all this behind too. )
"And that means we open it?" Hayley questions disbelievingly, "It's probably a trap!"
"And who's fault is that?"
Elena shouldn't be so mean, should blunt her tongue so it doesn't hit so hard, strike so deep, but she has been doing that for years now, chipping away at herself, softening herself so people don't bleed when they hold her even when they make her bleed.
Well, fuck that. If Hayley can't take it, she's more than capable of calling off the deal and going her own way. Elena doesn't have the energy anymore.
( Is struggling to find the energy to get out of bed these days. )
Hayley's pensive silence ends. "Fine. Have it your way."
She scoops up the envelope and there's a tense three-second pause as the pair wait and see if Hayley will suddenly burst into flames, but when the werewolf remains intact and unburnt, she rips open the envelope. She yanks out a thin sheet of paper and reads out the contents:
"To the Occupants of Room 122,
The Witches of the French Quarter extend a formal apology for our harsh treatments of you. In the wake of the harsh political climate, we do not seek to create more enemies. By this sentiment, we invite you to meet with Jane-Anne Deveraux again to repair the bridge between us.
