𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 | 𝐭𝐯𝐝

59

hi, my lovelies. I'm sorry for late updates but good news; I'm gonna start up anti-depressants. i wanna feel happiness again and I'm finally going to be able to. anyway, here's a short (filler but cute) chapter until I'm finally able to have downtime again

-

6:34 in the morning. Stefan decided to wake me at 6:34 in the fucking morning. All I wanted to do was sleep, but no. "Sundance I have a question."

He had turned on all my lights and sat right on my legs until I woke up. I forced him to turn off the lights and he crawled next to bed with me and began talking, which leads us to where we were now.

"You need to turn it on, Sundance." He stated lowly. "What? Are you crazy?" I stammered in reply. I know I've been acting emotional, but why? Why should I completely breakthrough? "No. You are though. I've been thinking...Sundance, you're killing people and pushing your own sister away. You are spiteful towards Damon and me for no reason and won't let anyone help you. You're taking innocent lives and feeling no remorse about it. Isn't that tiring? I'm starting to actually miss the Sundance who'd do anything to be around Elena. I miss the one who'd stick with me like glue and scold Damon for his ways. You're not this. You aren't this bold and you'd never kill anyone. You aren't this...mask. Take it off. Take off this mask." He pushed. "I can't," I whispered.

I'd feel bad about the murders and how I kissed Stefan. I'd feel bad about how I pushed Damon away. I'd cry. I'd be worn out and probably end it all.

"You need to. Please." He begged. "I'll do it when you do it. I know you aren't back either." I pointed out. I held out a pinky and he hesitantly took his pinky and wrapped it around my own. "Deal." He whispered.

Our fingers stayed intertwined. Oh how I miss traveling with Stefan. I miss us being a power couple--of friends. He wanted to protect me. He wanted to be there. He doesn't want that anymore. He doesn't want us anymore.

I need to stop wallowing in self pity and actually act like my emotions are off. I need my door to be fixed and to keep it shut for as long as possible because at the end of the day it's going to be me that gets hurt and no one will be there to save me.

"Can I go back to sleep now?" I asked, clearing my voice. He chuckled and nodded, but didn't bother moving. I slunk deeper into my blankets and fluttered my eyes at Stefan, who watched me as I did so. "You gonna stare, pretty boy, or are you going to sleep too?" I questioned. He pulled the comforter up, which covered my face. I huffed and adjusted myself, then closed my eyes and began drifting off again.

-

I sat up first at the sound of a door opening. It was creaky and obnoxious, sending a shiver down my spine. I looked at my clock. It was 12:57. I turned next to me and saw a sleepy Stefan. His hair was ruffled and he was holding a pillow in his grasp. He wore nothing but sweatpants, which made him even hotter.

Right, the door.

"Stefan?" Elena called. My mouth went dry and I grabbed Stefan's arm and shook him aggressively. "Hm? What?" He grumbled, his voice raspy. "Elena's here," I informed. This would look bad if she walked in. Really bad. I sped downstairs and faced her. She was wandering around the parlor. "Where's Stefan?" Elena asked, crossing her arms. Her hair was flat ironed and resting on her collarbones. She was dressed in her usual tank top with a pink cover-up and low waisted blue jeans. I remember wanting to have that confidence to walk around in low waisted jeans, but now I'm quite glad I don't look like a grandma.

"He isn't my responsibility. I don't know." I scoffed. That was a total lie but she doesn't need to know that. "Stop being such a dramatic-- Just tell me where he is." She warned. "Upstairs. He'll be down any minute." I answered. I walked back upstairs and brushed my teeth and let my hair down from my bun. I looked at my pale skin and freckles and frowned slightly before sitting in the sink beside the one I previously used. I continued to do my makeup and listen to a bit of Frank Sinatra before the door opened slowly and Elena peeked in. Her face fell. She was sneaking around. "Can I help you?" I snapped. She shook her head. "What do you want, Elena?" I asked lowly, screwing my mascara shut. "I, uh, I don't know. I'm gonna go." She scurried out. What was she doing?