RUNAWAY | S. SALVATORE

eight

Heavy tears streamed down her face as she frantically ran around the room, fumbling as she gathered the few belongings she had left in the younger Salvatore's bedroom.

She stuffed the final shirt into her duffel bag and swiped her manicured fingers under her eyes.

"Gen?" Stefan's groggy morning voice called from the bed. "What're you doing?"

"I – I have to go," she fumbled for words, wild eyes searching around the room for her phone.

"Go? Go where?" He got up, slipping a shirt over his head as he did. "What are you talking about?"

"They're coming for me. I have to leave before they find me." Genevieve grabbed her cell from the nightstand, tears blurring her vision. "I'm sorry."

"Who's coming for you? You're talking like a crazy person," Stefan gripped her by the shoulders firmly to stop her from moving. "Gen, Gen, you need to calm down."

"Calm down?" She snapped, blue eyes blazing with anger. "He's going to kill me and you're telling me to calm down?!"

"Genevieve, please, just talk to me. Tell me what's going on so I can help you."

"I can't. Not here," a manicured hand waved around in the air. She seemed both nervous and scared – paranoid.

"So let's go somewhere. Just us, okay?"

"Okay."

Stefan gently grabbed her hand and lead her towards his car. The small clock on the dash read 12:27am but the earliness of the morning didn't seem to bother him as they drove through the empty streets of Mystic Falls.

After driving for what seemed like an eternity but in reality had only been a half hour, Stefan stopped the car. The pair got out, Genevieve's eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"What are we doing here?" She questioned, her voice no longer shaking like it had been.

"This is where I come whenever I need to clear my head. I thought it might help. Come on," he outstretched a hand for her to take as he lead them through the familiar forest.

"Promise you won't think of me any differently when I'm done explaining?"

"I promise."

"I don't know where to start," Genevieve let out a nervous laugh and used her free hand to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. "My name is Genevieve Mikaelson, I'm an original vampire and my family wants me dead. Or daggered in a coffin. Whichever is easiest."

"Wait, you're a Mikaelson?" The younger Salvatore stopped walking, pure shock on his face.

"Yeah. Or I was, until they, like, disowned me," she frowned.

"Why would they do that?"

"About a hundred years ago we were living in New Orleans; it was the first time in almost a thousand years where we could finally be a family again. We were all so happy." Her bright eyes had glossed over slightly as if she were remembering the happier times. "And then our father showed up and somehow I ended up being blamed. Nik wanted to kill me but Elijah managed to calm him down a little. That didn't seem to stop him from wanting me to pay. He was going to dagger me but I ran away. And I've been running ever since."

"Did you do it?"

"Of course not! I love my family, always have, always will. I'd rather die a thousand times over than betray them."

"Then why'd you run? Surely they would have been willing to listen," Stefan furrowed his brow as they continued to walk through the forest.

"I was scared, I guess. I've only ever been daggered once and it wasn't by Nik. It was absolute torture. I didn't want to experience again," she shrugged.

"Why don't you just stop running?"

"I made the whole situation worse by running. I think they all assume I actually did because I ran. It's too late to stop now."

"Klaus and I, we were friends once, maybe I can talk to him for you, get him to – "

"No. This is my mess. It's safer for you to just stay out of it," Genevieve cut him off. "I'm sorry."

The words fell from her lips slowly and softly, and then she was gone.