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Stefan had been reluctant to let Reagan in at first.
Who wouldn't be? After the incubus had ran off without a word, killing multiple people in his wake.
And despite Reagan's bloodshot eyes and sad smile, the youngest Salvatore didn't know what to think.
"You look sad," Stefan decided on saying quietly.
"I look sad," Reagan echoed with a bitter laugh as he looked to the floor. The demon could taste tears on his cheeks and from the looks of it you would think he was drunk.
Reagan let out another laugh as he looked up to meet Stefan's eyes.
"I supposed I've made something of a mess," he sniffled, shaking his head. "Something of a mess," he repeated as he paced the room. "Here. I didn't mean to- well," Reagan laughed once again. "That's a lie. I did mean to, but not because I wanted to."
Stefan was quiet for a moment, watching the incubus with a frown.
"What's wrong with you?" The vampire whispered.
"I'm sick," Reagan coughed out as he forced a smile.
It was one of those smiles that made someone sick to their stomach. Because it wasn't real and it was full of pain and accompanied by tears and red eyes. The expression on Reagan's face was nothing short of sickening as he let out another laugh.
"I'm really sick. And I hurt people."
"Yeah, you do," Stefan nodded with a scowl. "I don't know why I thought it could be different-"
"Don't you see I'm trying!" Reagan shouted suddenly. "I was trying for you, and it sucked. It's not who I am, it's not who I have ever been, Stefan. It sucks."
"If you can't change I don't know what the hell you're doing here," the brunet shook his head.
"You're a killer too, you know." Reagan shoved his hands into Stefan's chest. "You're a killer too."
"But I'm trying," Stefan shouted back. "You aren't."
"You think that little of me?" Reagan scoffed as he stepped back from Stefan. "Fine," he hissed our bitterly. "Fine, I don't care. I don't care about anything."
"Then why don't you leave? Leave Mystic Falls, and don't come back."
"I have stained my hands with blood for centuries," Reagan was yelling now. He looked like a mad man, his cheeks wet with tears as he gave a psychotic type of grin. "And I did not spend all that time drenched in blood just for some stupid vampire to make me regret it."
Stefan was quiet for a moment as Reagan pulled at his hair.
"I care about you."
"So do a thousand different humans I don't care enough to learn the names of," the demon hissed. "You aren't special."
"You're so mean," Stefan glared as a scoff escaped his lips. "You're awful to anyone who tries to get close to you and then you try to play the victim. What is wrong with you?"
A laugh escaped Reagan as he looked up, taking a deep breath.
"It's too much," the whisper fell past Reagan's lips almost too quietly to be heard.
In fact, it was the first time Stefan had ever heard Reagan sound weak.
"It's too much," he repeated. "The weight of what I've done all those years," a shudder escaped the demon. "It's crushing me. And I've never felt this before."
"It's called guilt," Stefan frowned softly as he looked at Reagan.
"Make it go away," the black haired boy looked to Stefan with wide eyes. "Please, make it go away it hurts."
"I can't," the Salvatore shook his head sadly. "It won't."
"Never?"
"You learn to make room for it."
"I've been the way I've been for centuries," Reagan looked to Stefan tiredly. "I don't think I can change."
The vampire moved closer to the incubus, resting his hands on the demon's shoulders.
"That's all right." Stefan pulled him into a hug, holding up Reagan's weight as the blue eyed demon leaned into him.
"I'm sorry," Reagan sniffled as he clutched onto Stefan. "Please don't leave me, I'm sorry."
"I won't leave," Stefan whispered.
"Promise?"
"I promise," Stefan whispered as he hugged Reagan tighter.
"Can we go to bed?" Reagan mumbled.
Stefan watched him with soft green eyes, running a hand over his cheek softly.
"Of course."
And the two went and slept in Stefan's bed as if the past few days hadn't even existed.
However, there was the problem. The problem that lies in the secret words shared between the two.
The fact if the matter was, no matter how he hated to admit it. Stefan Salvatore had broke many promises in his long life.
And there was no guarantee he wouldn't do so once again.
