SIDE CHARACTER [ 1 ]| THE ORIGINALS & LEGACIES

E I G H T E E N

When I went back to my room, Roman was sitting on my bed, still in the bloodied shirt. I went to my drawer and pulled out an oversized hoodie I had, and tossed it at him.

"Isn't it usually the guy supplying the girl with clothes?" he joked, and I shook my head at him, laughing.

"Just put it on."

He nodded, and slipped the gray shirt off to put on the hoodie. I looked away when he did so, blushing.

"C'mon, you're a thousand year vampire, I think you can handle a little ab action," he teased, and I turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

"'Ab action', eh?" I laughed, and I walked over to him.

We both sat under the covers on my bed, one of his arms around my shoulders. I put my head on his shoulder, and whispered, "You should probably go."

"Yeah," he nodded, but didn't move. "Yeah."

From the side of me, I grabbed Lorelle's journal. It was the pre-pregnancy entries, and almost all of the pages were full of her and Elijah. I flipped through the pages, seeing her handwriting and the things she had to say about my father when they were together.

I thought about how hard talking about everything was, but how I didn't even cry. Tears started to form in my eyes as I remembered the amount of people I had hurt or killed through out the years to survive or to get around. The people I manipulated, the way I treated Stefan. After bolting, I had gone back to find him and since I was an original, I could compel other vampires. 

I had compelled him to forget all about me, just to ease him pain. I took the memories of me away from him.

Maybe that was for the best though, because soon after he went back to Mystic Falls. He was no longer a ripper, and up until the end, he led a life trying to be the hero.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Just thinking about all the bad things I've done," I responded. "And I didn't go see you because of something bad you did, when we aren't so different."

"You sound like Hope," he said, and I figured that their conversation must've gone a little bit like this. It made sense since Hope triggered her curse, which meant the guilt of killing someone must have been killing her. "And I'll tell you the same thing I told her: you can never be anything like me, okay? You're good, Lilah."

I shook my head, tears starting to fall.

"You are," he reassured me, rubbing my arm trying to soothe me. "And you didn't deserve any of the stuff you went through. I know you have probably done things you find unforgivable, but the things you did don't define who you are. Which is exactly why you love your family despite what they've done, which is why everyone still loves you, and they'll love you the same after you tell them the truth, okay?"

As I kept crying, he put his chin on my head.

"I just... I just wish I could fix it," he told me.

I just kept crying, "It's going to be okay. Okay?"

I looked at him, and he got close to me, whispering, "It's going to be okay. I promise."

I nodded and put my head back on his shoulder, and he moved so that his cheek was pressed to my head.

"Can you stay the night?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he whispered, tightening his grip on me. "I'm not going anywhere, tonight."

--

The next morning, I walked into Rousseau's to see Marcel pouring himself a glass.

"It's a little early to be drinking, don't you think?" I asked, sitting down in a seat next to him.