𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

ᴏɴᴇ. ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀʏ ʟᴀɴᴇ

❧ welcome to memory lane ❧

Mystic Falls hadn't changed much in the past 145 years. Sure, the modern world had caught up to it—paved roads, new storefronts, streetlights—but the town still clung to its old charm. The town square stood in the same place, bordered by the same streets, the same pathways. The clock tower had been updated but it still carried the same presence it had in 1864, standing tall over the town.

As the blue muscle car crested a small hill on the edge of town, Amalie gazed out the window, her eyes lingering on the woodlands surrounding Mystic Falls. The trees stretched out like a blanket of green, thick and familiar. She could remember what used to lay beyond the tree line: the sprawling estates, the winding dirt paths, and the small, quiet houses that had once stood there—one of them her own.

She shifted in her seat, a strange ache settling in her chest. Was it still standing? Her house. The one with the pale shutters and ivy creeping up the walls. A house filled with memories, not all of them good. She hoped it had been torn down, that time had erased it from existence.

"Home, sweet home," Max's voice broke through her thoughts, though there was something softer beneath his dry tone. "Can't believe it's been this long."

Amalie turned to him, catching the flicker of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. She allowed herself a small smile too, though her mind still hovered in the past. "Feels strange, doesn't it? Like we never left, but at the same time...everything's different."

Max glanced at her from behind the wheel, his hands gripping the steering wheel loosely, the engine humming beneath them. "Well, everything is different," he said, his voice low. "I'm different. You're...still you, thankfully."

She snorted softly, rolling her eyes in amusement. "Yeah, still me. Still the one you had to save from the brink of death." She meant it lightly, but as soon as the words left her lips, a shadow crossed Max's face. His grip on the wheel tightened, and for a second, his expression clouded with something unspoken—a memory, a regret perhaps—but it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by a smirk.

"You're welcome, by the way," he quipped, though his eyes didn't meet hers for a moment.

Amalie let the silence between them stretch out, her gaze drifting back to the landscape outside the window. The closer they got to the town, the more her mind buzzed with old memories.

As they drove down Main Street, a burst of nostalgia hit her. It wasn't just the clock tower, but the buildings lining the road. There, on the corner, stood the Mystic Grill, though it had been a general store back in her day. She remembered walking past it with her mother, watching the storekeeper unload sacks of flour from the delivery cart. Back then, it smelled of fresh bread and pipe smoke, the door always propped open to let in the warm breeze. Now, it was filled with bright neon lights and the sound of clinking glasses from inside.

"They used to sell penny candy there," she murmured, her finger pointing toward the building. "I'd stop every week after my lessons with Mrs. Lane. She'd always give me a penny for being 'studious'—not that I was." Amalie chuckled, recalling the governess who had shown her so much kindness back then. "I'd buy licorice and sneak it into my pocket before going home."