The Vampire of Beacon-Hills [ENGLISH VERSION]

S4 : Chapter Fifty-five

ELENA'S POV :

We're lying on my bed, my head resting on Stiles' chest as he stares at the ceiling. I stare at his face for a moment before breaking the silence.

"What are you thinking about ?"

He hesitates for a moment but opens the finally the mouth.

"This dagger... the one you asked the Noguitsune for," he specifies. "It must be very important to you. Why ?"

"It's some kind of family relic." I sit up to give him a little more precision. "My parents knew about the supernatural," I began. "My father was a vampire hunter. He witnessed my death. So when I came home a few hours later, he understood." I close my eyes as I think back to what happened hundreds of years earlier. "This dagger was his. He tried to kill me with it."

My boyfriend's lips part in shock at this information.

"I... I tried to reason with him, to stop him. But there was no way," I sigh. "He had already managed to cut me with it and I was afraid of dying. So I retrieved one of his hunting knives and when he approached, I stuck it in his shoulder."

A new silence falls in the room.

"When I saw his blood on the blade I... I wanted to feed on it. It was a visceral need," I whisper. "I brought it to my lips and something changed in me. When I looked up at him, I saw fear in his eyes. Something I had never seen before. I jumped at his throat and drained him of his blood."

My heart tightens. This moment strangely reminds me of the time I confessed to him about Charles. He is also a close friend that I killed.

"When you think about it, I destroy everything in my path. I am like one of those heroines in a tragic novel."

"That's not true."

"I killed my own father, Stiles."

He sits down next to me and takes my hand. "You had just transformed. You didn't understand what was happening to you," he puts things into perspective. "Things are going very well with the pack."

"You've only known me for 2 years."

"And with Simon, Heidi and Raphael."

I sigh. "Things weren't always so fortunate."

"Stop thinking that you hurt those around you. Everyone does. And you've done a lot less than some in 900 years of existence," he assures me.

"I think my mother would have loved you."

He smiles as he looks me in the eyes. "My mother would have loved you too."

This is the first time he's talked to me about his mother.

"What was she like ?"

"Before her illness... she always had a smile. When I was young, she read me stories. Whenever I was bored, she spent time with me. And even when I was running around screaming, she never yelled at me," he smiles.