Promise You Won't Fall In Love With Me

Chapter 23

Stefan was sitting on the floor in front of his father's office, twirling a piece of paper in his left arm, since his right one was still in the plaster. The doctor said his arm is almost healed, and that the plaster should come off before the graduation. But it kept him from playing football, and no one was too glad about that fact. Not his father, not the coach, not the playmates, not even him. He missed it. He knew he doesn't want to do it for the rest of his life, but that did not mean he hated playing football. He wanted to make a hobby out of it, not a career.

It's been almost a month since he's been out of the hospital. His injuries, except his hand, healed pretty quickly, so they had let him go home before it was planned. His mom was hovering over him all the time, worried, asking him does he need anything. There was a year supply of Oreos in his bedroom. Then Damon told her Stefan could use some privacy, and her frequent visits to his bedroom became not so frequent. Things between him and Damon were still not completely clear, and Stefan doubted they ever will be. They will never have the same relationship they had before, and maybe they were not supposed to. Maybe they were supposed to rebuild their relationship from nothing, the memory of who they were being only that, a memory. Stefan knew neither him or Damon will ever forget all of the stuff they said and did to each other over the years, Damon's actions being far worse than few of Stefan's punches and mean words, but in the end of the day, they were brothers, and no matter what, they never stopped caring about each other. And Damon would usually show his love through small gestures, and you had to have a pretty good eye to catch them. So Stefan kept his eyes wide open, since he was a child, out of the fear he will miss his brother telling him he loves him in his own way. And from the early years of his life, it seemed that is what Stefan cared about the most, love and recognition of his older brother.

Rebekah stopped playing worried little friend as soon as Stefan got out from the hospital, which Stefan did not mind, since worry was a bad look on her. Plus, her acting all caring and loving scared him a little. But Elena continued acting the same. She was even worse than his mom. Stefan always thought Elena grew up a little too early, which she admitted herself. She hated the age they are in at the moment. She wished she could skip to the time when she's ready to have a career and a family. She wished that since she reached the age when they stopped calling her a child, and started calling her a semi-adult. She also had a feeling like she's stuck in these teen years since forever, but being with Stefan made that easier. Waking up next to him, and going to sleep next to him, making them breakfast and similar stuff made her feel like they're older than they actually are, and like their relationship is more serious than what other people in their school have. Even though sometimes she was as smothering as his mom was, with her, he did not mind. Because with Elena, it was different. He could get lost in her. He could surf on the waves of her worry and caution. He found it adorable how careful she always was around him, afraid she will hurt him. She had changed a lot since he had met her. She freed herself in more ways than one. But the important things, little things that make her special, things he fell in love with, still stuck with her, and probably will for the rest of her life.

He hasn't talked to his father since the day he basically blamed him for the injury. He had seen him around the house few times, but he would always be buried in work, or at least he pretended to be. His mom told him his father is feeling so bad because of what he said, and Stefan knew if he doesn't come to him, this gap between them will never be fixed. Because his father was too proud to admit he's wrong, to admit that he has made a mistake, even if it was tearing him apart.

He finally stood on his own two feet and walked into his father's office. He was sitting behind his desk. He was always sitting behind his desk. Stefan could remember when he was a child, desperate of his father's affection, bringing him building blocks, coloring sheets, footballs, report cards, anything he could think of in order for his father to notice him. Sometimes he would raise his head up from the stack of papers to smile at him, but sometimes, he would not even notice his son entering the room. By that time, he was looking at his father in awe, and most of all, he felt a certain fear and respect for the man, more than he felt love and closeness a child feels towards his parents. He knew nothing about his father, except that he has to listen to him, and to nod his head at his requests like he doesn't even understand what's going on.