Vampire Diaries Imagines

After The Fall - Tyler Lockwood

Tyler dropped his duffel bag by the front door and frowned at the silence. The house should have echoed with the clatter of his mother's keys or the low hum of YN's laptop-anything to let him know they were home. Instead, the living room lay empty, the afternoon light stretching long across the floorboards.

He paused at the threshold to the parlor, where he heard the faintest hiccup of a sob. In the corner, curled into herself on the pale sofa, sat YN: knees hugged tight to her chest, shoulders trembling, tears trailing silently down her cheeks.

Tyler's heart clenched. He'd seen her like this before-the flicker of panic in her eyes, the way she retreated into herself when her anxiety spiraled out of control. He remembered how she'd once tried to hide it from everyone, and how, eventually, she'd let him help. He didn't want to push her now, not if she wasn't ready to talk. But he couldn't just walk away.

He crossed the room quietly, each step deliberate. YN didn't look up. Her hair fell loose around her face, and Tyler could almost see the thoughts spinning behind her closed eyes.

Gently, he lowered himself onto the arm of the sofa, keeping his distance but close enough that she could reach for him if she wanted. The two of them were close-closer than anyone would have guessed with how they seemed to argue more than not-but he'd never force her to explain when her worries felt too big to voice.

After a long moment, he cleared his throat softly. "Hey," he said, voice low and steady.

YN's shoulders jerked, and she blinked up at him, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She didn't answer, only hugged her knees tighter, as if that tiny shield could keep everything at bay.

Tyler reached out then, slipping his hand around her forearm as gently as he could. "Just know you don't have to talk," he told her. "Just... I'm here."

Her lip trembled, and she closed her eyes again. Tyler's grip tightened just fractionally, a silent promise that he wouldn't leave. He shifted so his shoulder brushed hers.

Minutes passed in silence that somehow felt safe rather than empty. Finally, YN exhaled, her breath quick and shaky. "I thought... I thought I had it under control," she whispered, not looking at him. "But today-everything just felt like too much."

Tyler nodded without judgment. "That happens," he said softly. "Doesn't make you weak."

She let out a humorless laugh. "Feels like I'm breaking, though."

"Then let me help hold you together." He carefully slid fully onto the sofa, tucking one arm behind her back.

Her head came up at that, eyes meeting his. There was a glimmer of relief there, and then, hesitantly, she leaned into him. Tyler wrapped his free arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. He could feel her trembling settle, if only a little, against his side.

YN rested her cheek on his shoulder, and Tyler pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. He didn't have all the answers, but he knew this: she would never have to face her struggles alone. Not as long as he drew breath.

Tyler waited patiently as YN's quiet sobs faded into soft, uneven breaths. His arm was still around her, fingers absentmindedly tracing gentle circles over her shoulder. Her head rested against his chest, and he could feel the tension slowly bleeding from her body.

He looked down at her, his voice soft but steady. "You wanna tell me what brought this on?"

YN didn't answer right away. Her fingers picked at the edge of her sleeve, her eyes fixed on a spot across the room like she was weighing the risk of being vulnerable. Tyler didn't push. He never did. He just waited.

Finally, she sniffled and pulled back slightly, just enough to meet his eyes. "It was just a day," she said, her voice hoarse. "One stupid thing after another."

Tyler tilted his head, encouraging her to go on.

YN exhaled, rubbing her palms against her jeans like she was grounding herself. "It started this morning. I was walking into the café before school to grab a coffee, and someone wasn't paying attention-completely slammed into me. Whole cup of coffee down the front of my shirt." Her lips twitched into something close to a bitter smile. "Had to race home, change, and I was late. In hindsight, I'm glad it was an iced coffee."

Tyler winced. "Either way you put it, that sucks."

"That's not even the worst of it," she continued, a humorless laugh slipping out. "I had a presentation in class. That I barely made it in time for, and when I stood up there, I just... I blanked. I got through it after a minute or so, but I hated every second. I could feel everyone looking at me." She paused. "I mean, I know they probably weren't, not really. And I got a decent grade. But I hated it."

He could hear the weight in her voice, the way she carried more than just the events of the day. It was the pressure. The expectations she put on herself. He'd seen it before - how hard she was on herself, how the tiniest misstep in her mind felt like falling off a cliff.

"And then," she added, her voice cracking with equal parts frustration and disbelief, "to make the day even better, right? I tripped in the hallway between classes. Full-on faceplant. Books everywhere, everyone staring. No one said anything, but I swear I heard someone laugh."

Tyler closed his eyes briefly, heart tightening. "YNN..."

"I know it sounds stupid," she said quickly, as if bracing for judgment. "I know it's not the end of the world. But everything just kept piling up and I couldn't breathe and-" She stopped herself, voice breaking again.

"Hey," he said firmly, cupping her face in his hand, thumb brushing under her eye. "Look at me."

She did.

"It doesn't sound stupid. Not even a little," he said. "It sounds like a crappy day that would've broken just about anyone given the right sequence. You held it together longer than I think most people would've."

Her eyes glistened, and she looked away again. "I didn't feel like I did."

"Doesn't matter," he said. "Even though it may not seem like that and you think that day was out to get you, you were still strong."

YN leaned into him again, her forehead pressing against his collarbone. "I just felt so embarrassed, Ty. Like I wasn't enough. Or like I was too much at the same time."

Tyler's arms wrapped tighter around her. "You've never been too much. And you've always been enough. More than on most days."

YN didn't respond with words, but the way she curled into him again - safer, steadier - told him she heard him.

And for the rest of the evening, he didn't leave her side.