Love is a word the encompasses so many emotions. There's joy, happiness, exuberance, all so commonly connotated with love. Yet, there's the other side. There's the hate, the torment, the fear, the jealousy, the sadness. The list so much longer than the other. Making one ask, why love in the first place? People spit it out as if it means nothing. Most don't mean it, others use it too easily.
Stefan in his centuries of living had definitely felt what most call love. He had fallen and had his heart broken too many times to count. Yet, what he had felt, never came to his standards. What he felt was other people's definition of love- not his own. He had said I love you so carelessly before and over the years, he said it less and less to the point where he no longer wanted to speak those words at all.
His soul was no better than shattered. His love had died. All that was left was an empty shell of a man. In other terms, a vampire. He had become what he was. He had accepted it. Yet, why did he still refuse to drink blood? Why was he still hanging onto that thread of humanity when it was clear that he had no ounce of emotion left in him.
Unless he did. He had those emotions hidden behind his walls and although no one saw it, it was there. They were there. He built those walls to protect his heart- a heart that could no longer take the damage but it was there. Although not beating, his heart was there- his essence was there.
Only love could fix his broken heart. Ironic, seeing as that was what broke it in the first place.
It wasn't as if Stefan would ever find it, anyway. His hatred towards himself was all too strong. His thoughts were vindictive, self-hating, aimed at his already damaged heart. It no longer took someone else to break his heart- only himself.
The only thing that stopped his death was his selfishness. He was surely old enough to die. He had lived long enough. But, a fear of death held him back. But, a fear of life pushed him forward. He was stuck in a paradox. He hated both life and death. There was no in between. He was simply a hater of nature itself.
Stefan found himself staring at a wall again, tracing the patterns of the floral wallpaper on the wall behind his bed, a soothing repetitiveness that at least caused some of his thoughts to retreat. He found himself blankly reaching for his diary and pen before he even had time to comprehend was his muscles were doing.
He stared down at it apprehensively. This must have been his fiftieth journal and one of the thousands of entries so why did it feel so impossibly important? It wasn't as if it mattered if someone read them, plenty had- his dignity, his pride, had faded long ago. So why now was he afraid of the consequences of what he wrote in this diary? Stefan's pen hit the paper and immediately he was beginning to scrawl on the page in that messy handwriting of his- anciently neat but nowadays nothing more than ink spilt on the page.
For once in my life, I think I'm utterly and truly alone. Once, I had hope but it seems that has now diminished too. Once, I believed that maybe Katherine would return. Later, Damon. And most recently, Elena. Now, I feel they are all gone. It's just me, now. And I'm still waiting for me to return. I'm no longer who I once was. I'm a shell of a man. Vampirism had once led my guilt. Now, it's just myself.
No one needs me. I'm pointless. Yet, I'm still too afraid to die. After centuries of living, I still can't give that up.
I can't stand it. I've never coped with loneliness yet I've had to my entire life. But why is it hitting me so hard now? I had gone through life before with a smile, a hope for something better to come. Now all I find myself doing is withholding tears. I've been left with a broken heart that no one can fix. The one person I hold any emotion for is the one person I can't have. Such a cliche.
I want to flip the switch. I want to turn it off. I want to get rid of the guilt...but I'm too afraid to do that too. I will only fail them more. If I have any chance at redemption, I must live with the guilt. It still seems so tempting, though.
I should just disappear. Become invisible. No one has ever cared for a rogue vampire. I could join them...because I'm done with trying.
I'm done with everything.
Stefan stamped his pen onto the page, finishing it with a large splodge of ink that was meant to resemble a full stop before he slammed his diary shut, the dust particles choking him as they clouded his vision. He coughed loudly and stumbled off his chair, groaning. That had been on the shelf for too long.
Stefan ignored the small pain and dragged himself back down the stairs and into the outside world. The sun was rising, painting a variety of colour across the horizon. All Stefan could think of was how painful the sun was. How had he managed to stay in his room until morning? He didn't get a wink of sleep. He must have looked a mess.
He leant back into the pillar just outside the front door and watched the sky as the sun rose, still wincing but managing to see a small ounce of beauty in it- calming him down minimally. He pushed himself off the wall and grumbled on his way to the car, making his way to The Grill for a nice, early-morning drink. Something at least to distract him from his miserable life.
He drove, still slightly tipsy from the night before and the lack of sleep, but managed to get to The Grill rather easily, pacing into the building and straight to the bar- ignoring everything and everyone. Including Elena and Damon who were both sitting there with a glass of water, their friends sitting opposite in the booth all too close to the bar.
Stefan still hadn't noticed them when he called to some barman he had never seen before for a glass of bourbon. Why he hadn't just done this at home, he didn't know. The barman raised an eyebrow at him but Stefan shook him off impatiently and waited for his drink. It arrived quickly seeing as no one else was drinking at this time in the morning- Stefan couldn't comprehend why the bar was even open but he didn't complain as he began to sip from the glass, hastily getting through his drink and calling for another one.
Stefan turned, finally feeling eyes glued to his back and smiled at his 'friends' before taking another swig. None dared talk to him or approach him even as he called for another one. Except Damon whose eyes, on his third glass, shot up to his, meeting him in a match of wills- daring him to have another. Something in Stefan's chest squeezed but he ignored the feeling and ordered another, and another, and another.
He didn't want to care so he wouldn't.
word count: 1082
edit 1 - 07.05.17 - new word count - 1238
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Denial ✘ Stamon ✘ Defan
Fanfiction''i love you... ...no you don't,, Stefan and Damon have suppressed their feelings for each other for too long, They don't realise that love is a funny thing, lines are blurred together and it's hard to tell one from the other. But, for Damon and Ste...
