We'll Always Have Summer | Stefan Salvatore

Chapter Ten

1993 — Mystic Falls, Virginia

   Florence knew the woods of Mystic Falls as if it were a swimming pool. It wasn't because her father enjoyed the outdoors and hiked the Mystic Falls trails when she was a child, but because she used to sneak into them with her friends. To her, the woods knew more of Florence Louisa Gilbert than her own family. The woods knew more secrets than any other person, and they probably knew the youngest Gilbert girl better than anyone.

   "How did you get that cast on your hand?" Cher asked, loudly, pointing down to Florence's hand with her chin. She didn't have to worry about being loud, for the woods only had ears but not mouths. 

   "It's a compression," Florence corrected. She raised her hand and took a look at the tight bandaging her brother had wrapped around it in the morning. "Grayson said that it would stop it from hurting and swelling."

   "I didn't ask what it is, I asked how."

   "Oh, I, uh..." Three people; three lies. "Mom closed the back door on my hand this morning. She was scared she broke it, so she called Grayson and he fixed me right up."

   To Stefan, she said that Cher had closed the car door on her hand. To Grayson, she said she hit it on the bottom of the pool when she dived. To Cher, that her mother accidentally slammed the back door on it. She wondered how many more lies could she say about a fractured hand, just as she wondered how the hell could a seventeen year-old boy do that kind of damage. Every time she thought of that, she would glance down at her hand and think back to The Granada Theatre. And every time she did that, she would think back at the brother with the bluest-blue gem for eyes.

   She noted that both brothers were severely different, both in looks and in the way they made her feel. While Stefan made her feel all warm and giddy and as if her chest would burst open and butterflies would fly from where her heart was, his brother made her feel as if she would throw up. Damon made her feel dangerous, even when he was just standing in front of her doing nothing. She only met him one time, but she wanted to know why did he have such a bad effect on her.

   After her small and loquacious Cher spilling secrets she had kept in her chest ever since she found out she liked both girls and boys, Florence Gilbert decided to go to the Salvatore boarding house. She didn't know why, but she felt the need to see if Stefan was there, if his brother was there. There was something about the eldest Salvatore that made her feel queasy, as if she was falling and had no parachute. 

   Down curved roads with springing trees, their branches appearing like curtains that covered her from the harsh sun. There was a breeze as she moved carefully down the road. As dangerous as it was, she sometimes closed her eyes and let the breeze caress her face, let the sunshine between the leaves warm her up. The sun, all of summer, made her feel giddy. The leaves, all of summer, reminded her of Stefan Salvatore. 

   The Salvatore Boarding House was one of the creepiest places in Mystic Falls, but it held a certain charm to it. Made in 1914, it had lost a bit of its woody smell. One could still smell the wood, but only if they focused on that single scent. Other than that, the house smelt ordinary, like the food Gale and Zach made, or the flowers that decorated almost every inch of the house, or the faint scent of cologne that wafted in certain places. 

   Florence stopped in front of the house and stared high at it, regretting her decision for a couple of seconds. She took a deep breath, kicked the stand of her bike, and slowly walked to the front door. Three careful knocks rasped against the wooden doors, her knuckles slightly hurting. She inhaled deeply, and slowly exhaled as her eyes scanned the door. There were numerous times that she had seen the door, but at that moment she could feel her her nerves swimming inside her.