Hoppla! Dieses Bild entspricht nicht unseren inhaltlichen Richtlinien. Um mit dem Veröffentlichen fortfahren zu können, entferne es bitte oder lade ein anderes Bild hoch.
i skipped "the ties that bind" this is "bringing out the dead" — unedited
While Damon was out, in the middle of a field, "getting tea with an old friend," Foster actually was getting tea in the Mystic Grill. The steam was captivating as it rose into the air, Foster couldn't look away. Her thoughts were all over the place. Damon meeting with Elijah, Stefan leading the Bennett mother and daughter duo to unlock a magic coffin, and Elena was the prime suspect in the murder investigation of Brian Walters. Foster just needed a breath, but every time she had a moment to herself, her thoughts drifted to Rebekah — Rebekah who crumbled into Foster's arm, knowing she would be caught. Rebekah who was golden the next morning, bathed in sunlight and so beautiful. Rebekah who was gray and daggered in a coffin. Foster rarely let herself remember the twenties, but when she did, it was so vivid.
The steam rising smelled of lavender, and Rebekah smelled of lavender, sometimes rose. Foster felt a pressure behind her eyes and closed them. She always ended up crying when Rebekah entered her mind, and the tears would turn to anger when she remembered how Elena daggered Rebekah. Foster shook her head, she wasn't angry at Elena. She understood why the doppelgänger did it, but she was missing Rebekah and her heart blamed Elena for taking her away.
Foster sighed, stirring her tea before taking a sip. It was a nice morning, the bar was almost empty aside from a few people. Foster watched an elderly couple order breakfast. The old man reached over and held his wife's hand, and the pressure returned. She'd never grow old. She was 164 years old and she'd never have a wrinkle or crows feet. People would get Botox to prevent such things, but Foster wanted them. The old woman smiled at her husband, her thumb rubbing the back of his hand. Foster noticed the woman's ring, still shining and she looked down at her own, the one Katherine had given her. Without it, she couldn't even sit where she was, right by a window, the sun warming her. Foster looked back at the couple, who had just received their food, the man must've had something on his face because his wife was leaned over wiping it, her eyes filled with fondness.
Foster thought about Rebekah again and wanted to cry.
Foster's phone chimed in her jacket pocket again. Two hours was all she wanted to herself so she ignored it, however, she couldn't ignore when someone cleared their throat beside her. Foster sighed before peering up at the male. "Hello, Elijah," she greeted.
"May I sit?" Foster nodded and he did. A moment later, a coffee was placed in front of him. "How are you, Foster?"
"I'm well." She noticed his lips twitch, this was the first time he didn't have to correct her. But then he gave her a look that said he guessed otherwise. "I am! I mean, I'm missing Rebekah and everything is bad, but that's the usual. I haven't seen Klaus either, not for a while, but he's angry at me."
