On My Own (TVD Series)

A Hopeful Future

ENZO'S POV

Sunlight spills through the curtains in soft gold streaks, painting her skin like she's something sacred. I've been awake for a while now, just watching her. Not wanting to break the quiet. I'm on my side, watching her, just watching. Her lashes flutter first, then those deep brown eyes open slowly and hazy with morning. She stirs slowly, lips parting on a breath as she stretches beneath the sheets. One arm lifts above her head; the other trails down until it rests on my chest, like she's checking if I'm still here.

I catch that hand before it can retreat.

She doesn't speak right away. Just breathes, takes it in, the warmth between us, the tangled sheets still draped low across my hips. And me...I can't look away.

She turns slightly toward me, skin sliding against skin, and I feel every inch of that movement like it's written into my bones. A small smile tugs at her lips before she even says a word.

"Morning," I say softly, low enough not to startle her.

Her eyes open then, not fully at first, but when they do, and meet mine. That's when something deep inside me settles. She smiles, a lazy, sleepy thing that makes my chest tighten, and shifts closer without thinking about it.

"You're staring," she murmurs against my shoulder as she drapes herself over me with effortless grace.

"I'm allowed," I reply quietly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before letting my fingers trail down again to trace along her jawline, the same way I did last night after we stopped pretending we could keep our hands off each other. 

"You were beautiful last night," I say quietly, not seductive or teasing, but honest, as if saying it softly makes it more real than shouting to the stars ever could.

She lifts an eyebrow but doesn't turn red, not anymore, and that makes me smile a little wider because we're past pretending now, past games, past fear standing between us.

"I wasn't alone," she whispers back, shifting closer until our chests nearly touch, one heartbeat syncing with another under silk-scented air and dawn light spilling over everything we left broken before this moment arrived.

It feels even more sacred than before because there's no shadow left hiding what we are, or how much I love this woman beside me who survived and fought for her life, while at the same time saving mine.

I pull her closer, wrapping my arm like a warm weight around her waist. She presses her hand over his chest, my heartbeat slow and steady against her palm. For a moment, we stay like this, wrapped in the quiet of early light and the sound of our own breathing.

"We should probably get up," she murmurs, even though neither of us moves to break the moment.

"Why?" I ask, the softest smile shaping my lips. "We have all day."

My fingers trail lazy circles along her bare shoulder, my voice humming into her ear like honey poured over sunlight.

"Why rush it?" I murmur. "We've spent 2 years running from this."

Lauren lets out a soft sigh, tilting her head just enough to meet my gaze. Her eyes, dark and endless, are full of something quiet but powerful. Not just love, but recognition.

I saw every version of her in those few seconds, the strong one, the broken one, the woman who fought her way back to life, and I love them all equally.

She shifts slightly, pressing a slow kiss to the center of my chest, right where my heart beats steadily beneath skin.

"I like waking up like this," she whispers. "Like I'm not dreaming."